It's All Over

As my COS (close of service) date approaches I've been thinking a lot about what I want my final blog to sound like. I had this idea that it would be some beautiful last post on all the things I got out of Ethiopia, the lessons I had learned, the people and the experiences that would stay with me forever. But as I arrive into my final days in Butajira I'm at a loss of words and instead of words I'm filled with immense sadness and anxiety. My mind is blank. I don't know what to say because I can't believe this is over. I can't believe I'm actually leaving Ethiopia. I never really thought this day would be here. Reaching COS always seemed so exciting, but now that I've actually arrived at this point, just a handful of days away from it, I'm so incredibly sad. Don't get me wrong, reaching COS is definitely exciting. More than anything I'm so proud of myself for having lived here for 2 years. But now that I'm actually packing up my house and realizing that this all of this is real, that excitement is turning into anxiety. As I go around fulfilling my daily tasks the voice in my head reminds me "this is the last time you'll ever walk to school," "only 5 more mornings, 4 more mornings, 3 more mornings … of going across the street to the suuk for fresh bread," or "this was your last bayenet at Mamush" and when once I had thought I would be looking forward to those countdowns, now that they're here I'm scared. I'm scared of not having this routine anymore. This routine that has become my daily comfort, my life. I'm scared of the coming days when I will have to say goodbye to my host family. To my neighbors and friends. How do you say goodbye to people you will probably never see again? How do you say goodbye to a life that will seize to exist after 5 days?

I'm going to do my best to make this the final farewell I had envisioned.

These last 2 years have been the hardest of my 24. That being said they have also been the most rewarding. I cannot imagine my life today if I had never joined the Peace Corps. I remember first coming upon the Peace Corps at a career fair at UT. I was immediately drawn to serving. I had always wanted to go to Africa, but not as a tourist. I wanted to live in Africa and truly experience how that part of the world lives. For a while I had been doing some research on options I had for going across the Atlantic. 3 months after that career fair I sent my application to the Peace Corps and 9 months later I received my invitation to serve in Ethiopia. I remember opening that email and crying. I was so happy and proud. I had actually been accepted into the Peace Corps. 2 years later I can't believe this part of my life is over.

What's the biggest, most important thing I've learned after 2 years? Looking back on the work I did and the people I met, all the wonderful and horrible experiences I went through, the relationships I formed are what will stay with me.

"Peace requires the simple but powerful recognition that what we have in common as human beings is more important and crucial than what divides us" - Sargent Shriver

I couldn't agree more and this quote couldn't be more true that what I've learned in Ethiopia. Missing America and my friends and family, I learned how important culture was and how hard it was to be away from it early on into my service. But Ethiopia has taught me that no matter how different our cultures, backgrounds, and histories make us, at the end of the day we are all human. I was able to connect on a powerful, emotional level with several Ethiopians. I consider that my biggest success. I made a family here. The relationship I have with my best friend here is the same as the friendships I have back home. We have gotten past our differences as American and Ethiopian and used that to learn more about one another and become closer. A couple of days ago she came over my house and we had a 2 hour conversation, just as I would with my American friends back home. When I go have lunch with my host family I feel at home. I'm so comfortable. My Ethiopian mother kisses me and hugs me as my own Mom does. When I told her my COS date she told me she wanted me to come back to Ethiopia when I start having children so she can meet them. A couple of months ago my host father gave me some advice on finding the "ideal" partner in life. Even though I disagreed with just about everything he was saying, I felt extremely loved. He was talking to me like a father talks to his daughter. He was giving me this advice because he truly cares about me. This last week my school held a coffee ceremony for me. The director of my school (the closest person I have been to in the work place) was in Hawassa taking some summer courses at the college so I didn't expect to see him, however the teachers called him to tell him they were having a goodbye ceremony for me and he surprised me by showing up. So after reminding myself of all these beautiful moments and so many more in my service, how could I ever leave without thinking I wasn't successful? I was able to really connect with people from completely different backgrounds and histories than me. I find that truly beautiful.

So how do I say goodbye to this life?

By taking all those memories with me, into the next chapter of my life. I just hope the next 2 years are as exciting as these last 2. I'm going to remember the wonderful people that I met, the relationships and bonds I formed. I will never forget this country. Ethiopia will forever be close to my heart. 

Camp GLOW, Wondo Genet 2015

I just arrived back from camp GLOW (Guys & Girls Leading Our World) in Wondo Genet. Wondo Genet is about 30 minutes outside of Hawassa. Volunteers set up these summer camps for students in several Peace Corps countries. The camps we put together in Ethiopia are regional. Our camp in the South was made up of 15 PCVs, 10 Ethiopian counterparts and 30 high school students. Since I don't work with the high school in my town I brought my host sister Etsub and my landlord's son Kirubel. I was really happy I brought them. They've both been an important part of my service so it was wonderful getting to spend this quality time with them. Inviting them to camp was also a way for me to show them how much I appreciate the help they've given me while I've been here.

We left Butajira Monday morning and headed to Hawassa where a bus awaited all the camp members to take us to the agriculture campus in Wondo Genet where our camp was held. We took over 2 rooms for our sessions. The sleeping arrangement was dorm style. There were 6 bunks in each room and shared bathrooms for everyone. The bathrooms were pretty awful, but after living here 2 years it's funny the things that become normal and the things that you don't mind so much (such as half rusted doors to holes in the ground you're forced to go to the bathroom in and horrific smells). I wasn't thrilled having to sleep 6 to a room but it actually turned out to be kind of fun. We slept in sleeping bags on pretty uncomfortable and old pillows. It was only 4 nights though and I got to spend that time getting to know volunteers from other groups and of course spending the nights with my favorite G9s.

Camp went from 7am to 10pm for 3 days. Camp sessions were focused on gender equality, sexual health, leadership, and goal-setting. I led the session on goal-setting and was happy with the overall flow of it. The students put effort into the activity I asked them to do and seemed happy with it. 

For our last night at camp we had a candlelight ceremony. We were all standing around the bonfire, each one of us holding a candle. We each went around and said what our favorite part of camp was. One of my favorite parts, and something I also saw at the AGE Summit, was the difference in the students from day one to the last day. In the beginning none of them know each other. They come from all different towns throughout SNNPR. They are quiet and unsure of themselves. By the end of camp though they were all active and had made friends. Some of them cried during the candlelit ceremony and it was hard for them to say goodbye. One of the prizes they received was a notebook from the States. They started using them to write notes to one another to remember one another by. The whole things was pretty cute. Students kept coming up to me asking me to write them a personal note in their books. Personally, I loved getting to spend this last time with the students I brought, but Etsub and Kirubel aren't just students I took to camp. They are my brother and sister. So being with them during camp, seeing them excited to make friends, was a perfect last memory to leave Ethiopia with. Getting to spend time with my fellow PCVs was also wonderful. There are some truly amazing people in the PC. And the great thing about camp is we come together from different groups (G7 - G12) and work together to put on this camp for our kids.

I have 2 weeks left in Ethiopia but it has yet to feel like I'm leaving. Before we headed back to Butajira we stopped in Hawassa for some juice. As I started hugging all the PCVs before heading to the bus station I realized this was the last time I would see any of these people and the last time I would ever be sitting in this café, my favorite  in Hawassa. It was really sad saying goodbye and walking away as all these PCVs were  still there. I finally realized that I was going home and this community that exists among PCVs I will never have again. There's a shared bond between PCVs. We're all very different and we may not always get along, but we have a shared experience that we don't need to explain to one another. We understand each other and I'm starting to understand that this part of my life is almost over and I'm about to leave this beautiful community. As I start to go through my things, cleaning my house, and packing my luggage, I'm getting nervous about saying goodbye to the friends and family I've made in Ethiopia and I'm getting emotional about leaving my house and the home I have created.

Lalibela

Ben Abeba restaurant

After getting through all of my medical appointments with the Peace Corps doctors, another PCV and I traveled to Lalibela, located in the north in the Amhara region. Lalibela is famous for its rock-hewn churches. We had contemplated busing up to the town, but on learning that the trip took 2 days we decided to splurge a bit and fly. As residents we get local prices on Ethiopian airline flights. It's still expensive on our meager Peace Corps salaries, but it's much better than the rate foreigners get.

Lalibela is a small town nestled high in the mountains of Lasta, at an altitude of 2,630m. This was the first time I had ever been north of Addis. The scenery looked completely different than what I was used to in the south. Down here it's very green. I'm in a valley and even though I'm also surrounded by mountains, those mountains are covered with trees and nature. So when I saw the mountains of Lalibela they looked very different than what I am used to. It's so dry in the north. It was still beautiful of course, but it wasn't what I was expecting. A top tourist destination for Ethiopia, the town of Lalibela itself is surprisingly small.

Ben Abeba restaurant. It's not very clear with
all the clouds, but hopefully you get an idea
of it.

On arriving into town and checking into our hotel (located next to a brothel I might add, not an unlikely situation as PCVs who need to keep a tight budget), we headed to the tourist office to pay for our tickets to visit the churches the following day. We decided to have dinner at a highly recommended restaurant, Ben Abeba. The architecture of this restaurant was really cool. I don't quite know how to describe the building so I've added a picture. We were literally on the top of a mountain, overlooking the valley far below. It was really, really cool and we ended up going back for breakfast the next day and for dinner again. The area was just too peaceful and as PCVs, a little peace and quiet goes a long way after constantly being the center of attention. Sometimes you just want to eat a meal without everyone staring at you and talking about you.

Another view from Ben Abeba.

The view from Ben Abeba restaurant

The next day we visited the churches. I remember learning about these churches in one of my religious studies classes back at UT. The Lalibela churches are carved below ground level and are ringed by trenches and courtyards. The sides are cut into with stone graves and hermit cells and connected together in a maze of tunnels and passages. At one of the churches we were able to see inside one of these graves. Each church has its own unique shape. As they were 800 years ago, these churches continue to be an active shrine for the people of Lalibela. We saw people covered in white (in the Ethiopian Orthodox religion, men and women wrap themselves in a white cloth know as a netella, or the thicker one known as a gabi, when they go to church) going in and out of these churches. We visited many churches, but the most majestic one was Bet Giyorgis. This church is isolated while the others are clustered together in two groups. Bet Giyorgis is excavated below ground and is almost 15m deep. It's pretty incredible. This church is also carved in the shape of a symmetrical cruciform tower. All in all I'm so glad I had the opportunity to visit Lalibela. It was great getting to see another part of the country and learn more about its religious history. 

Bet Giyorgis

Bet Giyorgis

One of the other churches we visited

One of the many trenches around the churches

Close of Service (COS) Conference

I just arrived back to site after about three weeks away. A good chunk of that time was spent at my group's (G9) COS conference and then in Addis Ababa to complete medical clearance. COS conference is probably the one conference that volunteers dream about since the day they arrive in country. It always seemed so far away, like I would never be able to reach it. But I did. It came and went. Arriving at this conference means you completed your 2 years. Of course you have a couple months left afterwards to finish your service, but once you've arrived at this point you know you did it. You feel like you've accomplished something. I think it was a pretty proud moment for all of us in G9.

We all arrived in Addis on Sunday May 31st, and began the conference the following day. I was able to meet up with people I hadn't seen since last September. We don't often get to see one another and when I do see another volunteer it's usually someone from my region. After a half day of sessions the bus arrived and took us down to Lake Langano, about 4 hours south of Addis. Peace Corps really did well for this conference. They put us up in a beautiful resort. We were 4 PCVs to a bungalow. There was a pool and a wide outdoor area for us to make a campfire at night. The lake was gorgeous. We had some wonderful weather and of course the food was delicious. Also I'm pretty sure we were the only ones staying at the resort seeing as how Ethiopia is getting into low season so we pretty much had the place to ourselves.

The next 2 days were spent basically celebrating us. Everyone was in a great mood.  It was wonderful and beautiful and there were tears. To put in simple terms, it was bittersweet. The sweetness comes because we're happy to have made it 2 years. 2 years that were not easy. We've been pushed in more ways than one. We've had to deal with things we would never encounter back home and we made it out. The end is in site for all of us now and we're ready to be home. Though at the same time it's bitter. This life that we've created for ourselves in our individual sites is over. Being a part of our Peace Corps community is over. And no matter how much we may complain about it sometimes it's going to be hard to leave that environment. This has become our home. So yeah, there were quite a few tears. We've also been able to see the changes in one another over the past 2 years. We're not really different than we were. We're still us, but I think a lot of us have grown and matured. If anything we're all stronger, braver, and more confident. Since our conference I'd been trying to figure out how to explain the change I feel in myself because I don't think that change will be so apparent when I go home.  I mean, I'm still me. But as another PCV put it, we've gotten rid of a lot of bullshit in our lives. Any crap we were carrying around we've learned to let go. The drama, the bullshit, the pettiness, it's all a waste of energy. I think we've realized what's most important in life.  I've learned to follow my instincts and to trust myself. I want to surround myself with people who make me happy, who make me feel good, who help me grow and learn. I've learned to focus on the positive relationships in my life and get rid of the negative ones. And PC has allowed us to realize the kind of people we want to be. Where we want to go. Even if we may not know exactly what that is or what that future looks like, we have a better idea of the kind of people we want to become.

By best friends in Ethiopia, Delia and Jaynice.

Moving on from that, the conference wasn't just one big party as it might seem. We also had sessions, but these felt less intense than what we've been used to since arriving in Ethiopia. We went over some of our accomplishments in the last 2 years and then discussed our options and the opportunities we have after our service is over. I was kind of nervous about getting to COS conference and hearing that everyone knew what they would be doing when they stepped foot in the States. Contrary to what I had imagined, the majority of us are in the same boat. Most of us don't know what we're doing next and are going home to live with our parents. Even though it is nice to have a plan, I think Peace Corps has taught me not to worry so much about what's next and to focus on the present. I should focus on the things I can control and then take the opportunities as they come along. Because when you have it all figured out and planned for the next several years you might miss out on some great opportunities. One of my favorite professors at UT once gave me similar advice. I've followed it and it's worked thus far. I'm trying to remember that and keep an open mind about what's next for me. It's a bit scary not knowing what's on the other side. All I know right now is I want to go home and spend time with my family and friends. I don't want to jump into a job right away. And if I'm being honest I don't think I'm ready for that. I'm going to need some time to reintegrate and readjust to life in America and put meaning into my time into Ethiopia. 

Remembering Papy

Two years ago today, June 22nd 2013, my grandfather passed away. It was the first time I had ever dealt with the death of a loved one. It also came a week before I was to leave for Ethiopia. I still hadn't completely moved out of my apartment, I hadn't bought everything on my list, I had yet to start packing and say my goodbyes, and then my father called me to tell me Papy had passed away. Death never comes at a good time, and this felt like the worst time.

As my grandparents started getting older and they befell to various illnesses I had always told myself that if anything happened, if life suddenly stopped for them, I would make it back to France. And then Papy died and it was impossible for me to go to the funeral. I felt tremendous guilt and hatred at myself. I felt like a liar. I was so lost and questioned if going to Ethiopia was right at the moment. I know for my parents and my sister this was such a difficult time. My parents were trying to mentally prepare for my departure when Papy left and my sister was in France standing with my family being the amazing support that none of us could be from so far away. That last week was terrible. Since having accepted my invitation to serve in Ethiopia I had been imagining what my last week would be in America. I had all these ideas and plans on what I would do, what I would eat, who I would see. Most of that didn't happen. There was so much to do in so little time. I remember saying goodbye to my friends, but I was in a kind of haze because deep down I was only thinking about Papy and the fact that I would never get to see him again. I felt such enormous guilt at not being close to my grandmother, my dad, and my aunt to support them and be there for them during this difficult time. Ethiopia was the last place I wanted to be and I left for Ethiopia without having grieved for Papy's death.

Somehow I made it here though. I remember talking to one of my close friends during that last week. I didn't know if I should still leave for the Peace Corps. She said something to me that I never forgot. Yes his passing was awful and sad, but now he would get to see me in Ethiopia. He would follow me on my journey and he would be watching me.  He would be looking down on me and would see me do all the things I was going to accomplish in Ethiopia and he would be proud.

That stayed with me and helped me get on that plane. I remember thinking about Papy throughout my entire pre-service training. It was hard because I had to deal with his death in bits and pieces. We were so busy during our 3 months of training I didn't have time to think about it. I remember sessions when he would suddenly appear in my mind and I would want to cry, but I immediately had to shut it off because I was in the middle of a session. We had technical sessions and hours of language classes and cultural integration with our host families and so much more that we had to give 100% to all the time. I never got to fully grieve until after our training and I had been at site for a few weeks. I don't think I completely forgave myself for not being present at his funeral for months. But throughout it all I always remembered what my friend said, Papy would get to see me on my journey.

There is one place in Butajira that I always associate with my grandfather because it was the one place during our training that I got a few minutes of peace and quiet. And each time I was alone he would appear in my mind. It's the gorge in kebele 01 where my host family lived. It's an enormous gorge, a perfect example of Ethiopia's rift valley. And it's so beautiful and gorgeous and immense. Each time I see it I remember sitting at the very top, looking down, and thinking of my grandfather. I was so sad than. But I go to the gorge now and I don't see it as a place of sorrow. It's a place of serenity and peacefulness and a reminder to me that no matter how tough a situation seems and impossible to get through, it does get better. Papy left his mark on Ethiopia, at the gorge.

Thinking about Papy's life and replaying the stories in my mind that family members had told me of his life helped me get through his passing and helped me serve in Ethiopia. The things he had done and the things he had been through at such a young age. The bravery he showed and his humbleness. The courage he had to always stand for what he knew was right. Because I remember thinking that if he could do all that he had done in his life, the least I could do was live in Ethiopia for 2 years. His strength helped me be a stronger person. My Papy is someone to remember.

As I arrive at my 2 year mark I look back at that time before I left and remember all the pain and anguish in our family. Then I look at how we all got through it, how our family came together. From separate continents we supported and loved each other. We cried together. I learned that no matter how much I may argue with my family sometimes, during the tough stuff we are one and we are there for each other.

Because my grandfather left us right before I came to Ethiopia he will always be in some way a part of my experience here. He was part of my process here, of my journey. He helped me get through all the good and the bad. In turn Ethiopia allowed me to grieve and deal with his death. I think it took a few months, but I never forgot him throughout all of this. I made it to the end. Papy was there with me at the beginning and he is here with me today.   

Je t'aime Papy

A Success Story

My group's COS conference is coming up next week. We've got a bunch of paperwork to fill out and things to do before our first session. For one of our assignments Peace Corps wants us to write a success story from our service. This can be anything from work to community integration. I chose a story from school and I thought I would share on my blog. 

Enjoy!

From Butajira Ethiopia

A Peace Corps success story

Helena Chevallier, G9 education 2013-2015

One of my fondest memories from my Peace Corps service has been the progress I have made with my grades 5 & 6 English club. This club was by far the most unorganized, in terms of logistics. My first year I had tried to get this club started but was having a difficult time getting the English teacher to help me. I tried again my second year but it was the same situation.

When I started getting random students from grades 5 and 6 coming to my classroom during their free time I took the initiative and told those students about English club. I thought, “To hell with it. If the teachers aren’t going to help, I’m just going to do it myself.” I explained to the students when they should come back and on what days. These students are not formerly registered, like the ones for my grades 7 & 8 club. (I had a teacher to help me facilitate that one in the beginning of the school year making it “organized”). Even though this club (grades 5 & 6) was much less organized, it had been the highlight of each week. I had the same eight students that came week in and week out. They were always so eager and excited for club. Much more than the club I run for the older students. These younger students were always on time and ready to go. When I first started my service I would have thought having only eight students was a huge failure. Over time though I’ve learned that it’s not the numbers that matter. I had eight students that loved my club and that was enough.

I'm not going to lie. I definitely had days when I felt unmotivated and really uninterested in doing club. Dreading the walk, I somehow always made my way to the school though. Whenever I started sessions with this club in particular my mood always lifted. These eight students were always able to turn a bad day upside down. So why do I consider this group of students to be my “success”? It’s hard to explain, but I’m going to try.

The English level of most of these students is quite low and with my limited Amharic skills it could be quite difficult sometimes, but they were always so patient. And that in turn allowed me to be patient. They really did their best to listen to what I said and we learned to all work together so that everyone understood their tasks. In my last couple of months I gave them activities where they had to be more creative. With the language barrier this was not a simple task. But I took my time explaining the lessons and activities to them. When I would first give them a task that they were not used to they would look at me like I was crazy and they had no idea what I was asking them to do.

I've thought of this a lot and I think it's because the things I asked them to do, no one had ever asked of them before. For example, on one of our last meetings I had them imagine their lives after 10 years. I asked them specific questions about what they saw for their futures and asked them to draw the life they saw for themselves. To understand this concept I really had to break it down and go through this one step at a time. But as I saw them process their assignment and what I was telling them to do, I could tell this was something they had never thought of before. And when it finally clicked in their minds, what it was that I wanted them to do, they got to it immediately and came up with some great drawings. Seeing that "aha" moment on their faces is what did it for me. They were so excited to use the markers, make their drawings, and then describe it to the class. They were so happy. That's what made this club so successful for me. In the beginning they were very unsure of me. Over the months we had together though, they became much more comfortable. All of them always came to our meetings on time and ready to go, no matter how much they didn’t understand or how long it took them to understand. That never stopped them from coming to our sessions.

I allowed and gave the students the time they needed to understand and I was patient with them. I let them think about what I was saying and made sure they were always all on the same page and in the end I realized the students really appreciated that. If they didn’t they wouldn’t have kept coming. I don’t think they are often given that one on one attention. Not like what I give them. That’s what made this club difficult at first. They didn’t understand what I was doing. I spent time with them individually and if they didn’t understand I didn’t let them shrug it off. I sat with them at their level and made sure they got it. I think they appreciated that and that’s what made this club so successful. Seeing them happy made me so happy. They just wanted to spend time with me and learn with me.

These students showed me that if you give kids the little push and attention that they need, they can do so much with it. They will always be an important part of my time in Ethiopia and the memories I made with them will stay with me forever. 

Self-motivation

As my time in Ethiopia dwindles down, I've been taking a closer look at my service thus far. I was with a friend this past week and due to the events that took place, or should I say lack of events, I came to realize that as PCVs we are constantly having to motivate ourselves and a big chunk of my service has been me motivating myself. Let me explain.

Self motivation as a PCV is constant. How did I come to think about this profoundly? Well this week, my friend and I were all set to get some work done. As COS (Close of Service) approaches most of us are thinking about our next step. It may be graduate school, applying to jobs, working on our resumes/CVs, reaching out to connections back home, etc. Safe to say I have plenty I should be doing. I didn't have any programs scheduled at my school on that particular day, so the two of us were all set to go down to the hotel and get some work done with the hotel's wifi. It was extremely hot, but we faced the heat. Of course the internet wasn't working. With sweat starting to come down my face, we tried the other places in town. Four places later, nothing was working. We then said we'd go ahead and do some errands. I had to go to the post office. It was 2:30pm and closed. I couldn't tell you why. I guess an extra long lunch break? Then we had to go to the bank. The network was down so we couldn't get our money. We thought we'd stop to get a bite to eat. We were craving inkulal siga (scrambled eggs with meat on injera). They didn't have what we wanted so we just went next door and had some avocado juice. Pretty delicious too but it wasn't what we set out wanting. All this is to point out that throughout my service, just because I wake up in the morning all set and ready with a list of tasks to accomplish, no matter how simple the task, such as going to the bank to withdraw funds, there's a good chance I won't get through those tasks. You just have to know that going in. PCVs have to be incredibly flexible. If not we are setting ourselves up to endless disappointments and frustrations.

It gets hard having to always motivate yourself. No one is pushing you. You have to do it all on your own. For the most minute things too, such as going to the post office. On that day when we set out to the hotel, we came back after a two hour excursion with nothing to show for it. I wanted to work. I wanted to get some concrete research done, but because of forces out of my control I couldn't. It can get pretty discouraging because this isn't something that happens once in a while. This happens ALL THE TIME. I've had to learn to be unbelievably patient because nothing ever turns out the way you hope. There's only so much you can do. I can't make the internet work. I was ready to do job research but then I couldn't. So then what's left to do but go home and read a book. You can easily get discouraged. You have to continue to self-motivate. Every day. It's so easy to feel defeated. All this to show that as a PCV you set out to accomplish certain tasks, yet there's a good chance none of it will get done. That's why when something good does happen, when you get a success, no matter how small, you really have to hold on to it and celebrate it.

In the beginning I think I was easily discouraged and frustrated by this. But as the months have gone, I've become pretty flexible and patient and when things don't go the way I planned I just try again the following day and occupy my day by doing something else. It's hard, but I think all of us are learning how to work in all kinds of environments.