Crater Lake

Yesterday, I went on a little excursion with some Volunteers that were in town for the day. They asked me if I wanted to come along with them to visit Crater Lake, which is just a few kilometers outside of Butajira. I had heard volunteers before say that going out to the lake was worth it so I though why not? It will be nice to get out of Butajira for a couple hours and see something different.

            We took a 10 minute ride on a bajaj (little blue taxi) to get to the lake. At first when we told the driver to take us to the lake he had no idea what we were talking about and explained that there was no lake. After some more explanation on our part he understood where we wanted to go. I think he was confused because of how far out it was. Once out of Butajira the scenery is very rural. There are no cement houses or gates to the compounds. The only homes in site were traditional mud huts and mud homes surrounded by fields of corn, teff, and a beautiful mountainside. When the drivers dropped us off we soon encountered trouble. Being ferengi (foreigner), the drivers tried to charge us triple the normal price. We were arguing for a few minutes and the argument soon escalated. This was the first time I had ever been in such an ordeal so as it was all happening I just stood in shock. My Amharic isn’t at a level yet where I feel comfortable arguing with locals. I had no idea what to do since the men got angrier and angrier. Before we knew it children had come to surround us and watch. The drivers even stopped a man riding on his motorcycle as he drove by to explain to us that the price they were charging was correct. The men started shouting and voices of the children surrounding us yelling, “Money money money, give me money” was very overwhelming. I started to think that maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea for me to tag along and I wasn’t sure how we were going to get out of this situation. Finally, we gave them a little more money than we ought and just walked away. The men were still shouting since they thought we should have given them more, but as we walked away they eventually left us alone. What a great start to the afternoon.

            As we started the walk up the hill to the lake all five of us were still in shock and didn’t know what to think. The girls did let me know that this has happened to them before and in such cases you just have to give them the money or if they don’t take it leave it on the seat and walk away. 

            Since the lake is in a crater formed thousands of years ago you have to walk up a hill to get to it. As we started walking up I stopped and took a minute to take in the landscape. It was a little past 3 pm at this point and the sunlight was perfect. There were some clouds in the sky and a cool breeze so the temperature felt great. In the distance I could see the magnificent highlands. What made the scenery even more perfect were the rays of sunlight getting through the clouds and casting shadows all along the mountains. It was beautiful and the words I have written and pictures I have posted cannot do what I saw and felt justice. As we arrived at the top of the hill I was left speechless at the sight of the lake. It was deep into the crater so we couldn’t reach the lake, but the water was a beautiful deep blue. At this height we could see past the lake and for miles out. The valley beyond the crater was gorgeous. Since we have been out of the rainy season for just a couple weeks now, everything is still green and lush. Between the different shades of green from the trees and grass, the perfect blue sky, the yellow fields of teff, and more mountains and lakes in the distances the scenery was spectacular. There were also mud homes dispersed in the valley and along the hills with herds of cattle roaming and eating grass.

            At one point I thought how amazing it would be to wake up every morning with this lake and the view, but then I looked more closely at the children and the few homes around me and saw that this is rural Ethiopia, where children are malnourished and families do not have enough to eat. How can so many people be suffering in such a beautiful place? Thus far I have mostly been in cities of Ethiopia and though I have seen homeless people, this may have been one of the first times that I got to see what life is like in the really rural areas. Even though there were power lines going through the valley, the traditional houses that we passed along the hill did not have electricity or running water. You could see the malnourishment of the children who walked alongside us. The patches of white/gray in their fading hair showed me this. Some of them only had shirts on and were running around in their bare bottoms. One young boy, Jamal, who acted as an informal tour guide was covered in mud and dust and had no shoes, but that did not stop his excitement at showing us around the lake and guiding us to the cave we were told we had to see.    

            We had been told that there was a man who lived in a cave that we had to go see. None of us knew what to expect, but our curiosity led us to follow Jamal. We walked around the lake and further up into the hills. At one point I thought maybe he hadn’t understood where we wanted to go because the walk seemed to take forever. After walking up the final hill though we reached a gorge where what lay below was invisible with the trees and bushes that covered it. We followed Jamal down into the gorge along a path. The scenery changed completely and it now felt like we were in a jungle. Barely any sunlight could get past the trees and the air felt very moist. The path led straight into the cave. What we found inside were three elderly men and three elderly women, each sitting with their respective gender at opposite sides of the caves. There was grass laid out in the cave. We asked if we could come in. We took off our shoes and walked inside where we sat together and introduced ourselves. They were drinking bunna (coffee) out of small, wooden goblets and chewing chat. (Chat is a mildly stimulating green leaf that you chew for several hours. It is very popular in Ethiopia but the leaf is illegal in the United States). Chat ceremony is usually a social thing. People gather in a room, grab a few branches, and pick the leaves off one by one and chew them. So we had walked into the cave during a bunna/chat ceremony.

We didn’t stay long as night falls early here. We took the dirt road back to Crater Lake, first walking through a field of corn and flowers and then down a rocky hill. We got to see the sun beginning to set and catch one last look at the scenery. Foreigners often have a misconception of Ethiopia as a very hot, desert like environment. Though this is true for some parts of Ethiopia, a huge part of the country is covered by lush greenery and huge mountains. I was so happy to get to see this part of Ethiopia more closely. Even though Butajira is situated in a valley surrounded by mountains, it is still a good sized town and I don’t get to see the rural areas unless I step out of the city center.

How did we get home? There are mini buses that pass along the main road all the time, so when we reached the road we flagged down a bus and hopped in. It cost each of us 5 birr to get home, four times cheaper than what the bajaj drivers had tried to charge us! 

Learning to slow down

So you might wonder what I have been doing with my days since training has been over and what kind of work I have been doing. To be honest, I haven’t done much. The Peace Corps approach to development is people centered. It is a bottoms-up approach that starts at the grassroots level. It’s a participatory and inclusive approach that allows for different parts of the community to be involved. In order to achieve that, Peace Corps strongly believes that within Ethiopia at least, it is important to develop personal relationships before professional ones. Showing your face around town and just going to your school to chat with the teachers is enough. People need to get to know you and you need to get to know them. Getting started here has meant going slow and taking time to get the lay of Butajira. What’s most important right now is to develop relationships with my English teachers at Mekicho and the staff at the education office.

            To get some idea of the importance of personal relationships, let me take you through a simple Ethiopian greeting. “Tena istilin, dahnah adark, seulam nah, igzabierh istilin, seulam nah, dahnah, dahna nan.” These greetings could go on forever. It’s not a simple hello or good morning like I am used to back in the States. No. Here when you greet someone, you greet them in at least five different ways. And what I just wrote up is just for the morning. There are also separate afternoon greetings and night ones. Ethiopians take time to make sure the person they are greeting is doing well, also asking about their family and making sure their life is okay in general. As Americans we tend to have a million things to do every day and often don’t have the time or we don’t take the time to really ask about how the people we are greeting are doing. In Ethiopia when people greet me I can tell that they actually really do want to know how my life is going, it is not just a formality or something you do to be polite. And if I don’t respond to these greetings in the same way, I’m being culturally insensitive. So I am having to learn to take the time to ask everyone that I meet how they are doing and trying to remember all the Amharic greetings.

I am also learning to slow down. In America, we are constantly running around trying to do as much as we can, forgetting to do the simple things. Ethiopians have asked me what time I eat at in America and I tell them that depends on the day. I’ve had times where I’ve had to eat my lunch as I was walking to class or eat while driving to work. It wasn’t uncommon for me to eat just twice a day. When I was with my host family they never let me out of the house without sitting down and eating breakfast and drinking my tea. Trying to explain to them that not eating breakfast was no big deal and was customary back home was something that they couldn’t wrap their heads around.

            Learning to be patient and slow down when you are used to doing the complete opposite is a bit challenging. Changing your behavior is no simple task. When I first arrived to site after training, I started off with a list of goals that I had to accomplish every day. I’ve realized after just a month that a list of weekly goals is much more doable than daily ones. I’ve learned that it is common for me not to accomplish all I want to do in one day because according to Ethiopian time, I’m planning too much in one day. Life is much more laid back here and I am having to learn that if I don’t get something done that day, it’s no big deal, it will just get done the next day… or the day after.

            So what have I been doing? Well every morning I show my face at Mekicho Primary school. I’ve done some classroom observations. Part of my assignment here includes me getting a model classroom. The school director says I will get a classroom soon (but again you never know what soon means here). Once I get the classroom I have to turn it into a learning center and decorate it in a way that enhances learning. Most classrooms here are just dirt walls with old desks and overused chalkboard. With the model classroom I get to show teachers how they can use the room as a learning/teaching tool for their students. When my director gives me the classroom I will have plenty of work getting materials and probably go to school all day. For now though I just go in the morning. I come home for lunch and then in the afternoons I try to get stuff for my house which is still pretty empty. It’s funny though how much of a difference having a bed and some flooring can do. My house may not have much in it, but I get more and more comfortable every day. I’m learning that I can live with very few things. I’ve made it work. And most importantly I'm learning not to rush through everything all the time and to be patient.  

Ethiopian food

            Finally, a post about the food I’ve been eating. I love food. If I could just sit and eat all day I would. And I love Ethiopian food. I was first introduced to this type of cuisine last year on my study abroad trip to Uganda where there was an Ethiopian restaurant in town. I would want to eat Ethiopian food every single day. I’m pretty sure it got to be obnoxious for the people who had to deal with me that that was pretty much the only thing I ever wanted to eat, but it was really, really good. So when I found my Peace Corps service would be in Ethiopia, I knew I wouldn’t go hungry.

            The most important part of an Ethiopian meal is the injera. How to describe injera? It is kind of like a thin, spongy textured pancake that’s made with a grain called teff, grown in this part of the world. Ethiopians eat with their hands so you break off pieces of injera and use it to pick up the various Ethiopian dishes. The foods that are put on injera are called wots, or sauces. And my host family made the best Ethiopian food. Here are some of my favorites:

Shiro: I eat this almost every day because I love it and it’s really simple to make. Its main ingredient is shiro powder, or chickpea powder, which I’ve been told you can’t easily get in the States. Also important is the berbere powder that goes in it (sort of like a red pepper powder). This can’t be found in the States either so I will be bringing plenty back with me when my service is up.

Dinich wot: This has got to be my all-time favorite. I haven’t made it myself yet because to be honest, I’m too lazy to peel potatoes and the tables I ordered from the carpenter have yet to arrive so I’d rather not peel potatoes while sitting on the floor. But every time I go see my host family they make it for me. It’s just oil, onions, water, berbere powder and potatoes. But the wot tastes absolutely amazing with the berbere and my favorite part of this dish is getting to the end when my injera is completely soaked in the sauce. Some volunteers have complained that they don’t like the end of their meals because all they are left with is soggy injera but I couldn’t disagree more, the soggy injera soaked in all the wots is so so so good. Can you tell I like sauce? That may be the French in me speaking.  

Habasha gomen: This can be made with either spinach or collard greens. All you do is sautee some onions in oil. Then, cut up the spinach or collard greens into the smallest pieces you can get them into and add them to the pot. Let it cook for about 10 minutes and then throw it on your injera. This is often eaten with bread as well. Delicious!

Gomen: This is made with cabbage instead of spinach and is made in pretty much the same way as habasha gomen. Cut up carrots and potatoes are also added.

Keyser: Keysir are beats. Start by sautéing some onions in oil, then add the cut up beats and cook for 10 minutes. Served on injera of course.

Doro wot: This is probably Ethiopia’s favorite dish. Doro is chicken. I’m not exactly sure how the wot is made although I know Ethiopians put a lot of berbere in it, which makes any dish better. The wot is served with chunks of chicken (which is bought at the market on Friday and killed in the backyard once it arrives home) and hard boiled eggs. 

            I haven’t eaten much meat thus far so I cannot describe the meat dishes (except the doro wot). Meat is also expensive here so most people do not eat it often. Meat is common during the holidays. There is one dish that I have yet to try and I’m not sure if I will ever get the courage to try it. That is kitfo. Kitfo is most popular in this region, Gurage, so during the holidays everyone eats it and they all want me to eat it as well. Kitfo is raw meat and even though plenty of volunteers have said that they have enjoyed it I am too scared to try it. Also, I don’t know if my stomach can handle it just yet and I don’t want to have to deal with a parasite right now. Lucky for me I only have to worry about declining this dish during the holidays.

The Ethiopian Sun

When I found out Peace Corps was placing me in Ethiopia I was so excited because of the country’s proximity to the equator. I love the heat and the sun therefore I was thrilled that I would be living in a region where the sun is out 9 months out of the year. When I arrived in Ethiopia on July 3^rd however the rainy season had begun and it was cold. It was cloudy and grey every day, which made it even more difficult to go to training. And each time the rain pounded down on the tin roof all I wanted to do was stay in bed. So when the sun finally came out and revealed the beauty of Butajira I was more than happy.

            Well, now I understand why Ethiopians don’t seem to mind the rainy season too much. I actually miss the rain (I can’t believe I’m saying it). When the sun is out, it is HOT. I can hear Abigail mimicking and laughing at my whining, “It’s sooo hot.” And as I was walking home from school for lunch today, sweat dripping down my face and along my back, I asked why I had once loved the heat so much and why had I been looking forward to it? Probably because I lived in America and warm weather where I am from means swimming in cold, clear water, getting a lovely sun tan, driving in an  air conditioned car, or sitting in an air conditioned room, and drinking caramel frappucinos from Starbucks and cherry limeades from Sonic. In America, when it’s hot I can wear whatever I want. Shorts and a tank top with some flip flops. I can find ice anywhere. In Ethiopia, this is not the case. I don’t even have a fridge let alone a freezer. None of those things exist (well, you can buy a fridge here but my Peace Corps salary won’t allow for that just yet). When I am hot there is nowhere for me to escape since the sun directly faces my home in the middle of the afternoon. Ethiopia is also quite conservative. You can’t show your knees or your shoulders (well I could if I really wanted too but that’s not really the image I want to pull off while I’m here. I am trying to integrate), so I can kiss all of my tank tops goodbye, unless I wear them under my non-revealing tops.

All this to say that I get the feeling that I’m going to miss the seasons I am used to in America. It may be October but it sure doesn’t feel like it to me because all the sensations I associate with that time of year don’t exist here. Back home, I imagine the weather is getting cooler and the leaves are changing colors. People are eating pumpkin cheesecake and picking out pumpkins. I’m sure the Smokies look beautiful right now. It’s funny the things you miss when you don’t have them. I lived in Tennessee for 7 years and never appreciated the mountains. But I would love to go on a hike right now and notice all the beautiful colors or sit on the balcony at my parent’s cabin while the sun sets. Being here shows me all of the things I took for granted while I was home. Butajira is surrounded by mountains so I’m hoping I’ll be able to enjoy a beautiful hike soon and get to appreciate and enjoy where I am at today.

Finding Happiness

            I’m finding it difficult to describe how I’m feeling. I’m not sure how to put my emotions into words because I’ve never gone through anything like this before. Living in the middle of Ethiopia, on my own, surrounded by nothing that is familiar makes me speechless. There is not one day that I don’t question what I’m doing here or ask myself if I have the strength to do this. I’m finding it difficult to find what makes me happy. Every day when I wake up in the morning I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I want to stay in bed and not walk out my front gate. I roll around in my sheets for about 20 minutes before I actually have the strength to get up and face a new day. A day where I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen. Something is going to happen, something always happens whether it be good or bad. Something that is new and unfamiliar and scary. But every day I find a way to get up and go to work and when I get ready to go back to bed at night I get a feeling of relief and I can relax, for I’ve made it through another day. Even though each day gets easier and easier I continue to question my decision to be here. 

But then I think about my host family and I ask myself how could I leave tomorrow? I’ve told my community that I will be here for 2 years and I don’t think I could leave them. My host family has done so much for me just thinking about all the kindness they have brought my way brings tears to my eyes. I know I have only known them three months but I have no idea how I’m ever going to say goodbye to them when that time comes. I also see how excited the teachers at Mekicho get when I tell them my length of service. It is not often that foreigners stay as long as Peace Corps Volunteers. People here are used to seeing foreigners for a few weeks and then having them leave. Or Abigail, my landlord’s 10 year old daughter who gets so annoying when she comes into my house and touches absolutely everything that I own, yet she keeps me company and I’m so happy that she lives in my compound. She comes over after school and does her homework with me. How could I just get up and leave?

            What about the little boy that ran up to me this morning as I was walking to work and held my hand the entire way to school. In the little Amharic that I can speak I told him I was an English teacher (explaining that I’m actually a teacher trainer in Amharic is too difficult for me right now). He knows that I will be working at his school now so how would it look to just leave before I’m supposed to? I just wanted to hug that little first grader this morning for holding my hand and asking what my name was instead of screaming “ferengi” at me from across the road. You have to be careful about hugging kids because the minute you hug one of them you’ll have 100 kids behind him trying to get a hug out of you. I am expected to be here for 2 years and I owe it to all of these people to honor that promise.

            After reading one of my blog posts I had a friend from home send me a really uplifting message, a message that could not have been written at a better time. He reminded me to be myself, that people will get used to me, and to live in the moment. That when this whole experience is over I’ll be wishing I was back here. We often believe we will be happy in another place, doing something else, forgetting to be happy where we are in the present. When I was going through my last semester at UT I kept telling myself that this wasn't the place for me and I was ready for a change and that Peace Corps was that change. Now that I’m in Ethiopia I find myself thinking about all the good times I had with my friends and I’m picturing what my family is doing at this very moment wishing I was with them. We have to live in the present and be happy in the present because we will never get those moments back. We create our own happiness whether it be in America or in Ethiopia. So I’m going to keep going with this and try to find what makes me happy here. Baby sets. As they say in Amharic, “kas ba kas,” (little by little). 

On a more positive note

            I know my last blog post wasn’t the happiest one so I’m hoping this one will cheer people up about how my life is going. On top of writing my blog posts I’ve started journaling since arriving in Ethiopia. I’ve done this to make sure I don’t forget anything because time does go by fast and we tend to forget a lot of the small details. Also, I’ve found that writing helps me gather my thoughts and figure out how I’m really feeling which is helpful under these stressful situations Peace Corps is putting me through. Why am I telling you this? Well a lot of my blog posts stem from my journal entries and here’s a bit of what I started to write about tonight;

            To say that the last couple weeks have been hard is an understatement. I’ve probably had some of the most difficult days of my life. I’ve been asking myself why I decided to do this in the first place. Why did I ever want to travel halfway across the world and live in a poor country for 2 years away from all the people that I love? Through journaling I was able to answer this heavy question.

            This week I started working… well sort of. The concept of time here is a lot different so I basically just visited my school and met with the teachers and had a lot of informal conversations. But for any of you who think this is nothing you must understand the value of relationships here. To Ethiopians, relationships are everything and you can’t just start a professional one without getting to know these people on a personal level. So I’m trying to develop friendships with the teachers at my school if I ever want to get any real work done in the future and be respected. So to get to the point, here’s what I was journaling about. This morning I found myself in the teacher’s lounge talking to 3 teachers about my life and theirs’, just small talk. They asked me what kind of education I had received. When I told them I had a bachelor’s degree in global politics and economics they all smiled and laughed and said, “Oh good, then you will be an ambassador or a diplomat one day,” and I smiled back and said, “maybe I’ll be the ambassador to Ethiopia” and everyone laughed. (Honestly I haven’t really thought that far, I’m just trying to get through the next 2 years). That then led to us talking about war and peace. I won’t bore you with all the details, but basically they explained that war is not the answer. Instead, people should talk and discuss their problems. And that’s when I responded, “Exactly, just like what we are doing here. Talking together amongst different cultures and working together.” And they all smiled and agreed.  

            So as I was writing down this little exchange in my journal tonight, I was reminded of why I’m here and why I decided to join the Peace Corps in the first place. I do want to try and make this world a better place (I know how cheesy that sounds but it’s the truth). And the Peace Corps way of doing this, by building relationships with people and working with them to find sustainable solutions and helping to understand different cultures, is something that I believe in. I wouldn’t have been reminded of my purpose here unless I’d written down my thoughts and the emotions I felt today while talking to those teachers, so I’m going to keep journaling and keep all of you updated back home. Yes, I’m still having some pretty bad moments, my house doesn’t feel like home yet, and I still haven’t established a routine, but it’s the conversations and the exchanges that I have with people that change my mood and bring me those positive memories that I can write about (unless people call me Money, then I have a problem). 

First week alone in Butajira

Up to this point I feel like my blog reflects a pretty positive image of my experience. Not that I have been lying in my past posts, but I have definitely left out many of my negative moments. I think we tend to romanticize Peace Corps life when really it’s far from it. As our director and the rest of Peace Corps has reiterated to us several times, “Peace Corps is the toughest job we’ll ever love”. Well at this point I don’t love it to be perfectly honest. I’ve been in my house in Butajira for a week now. I’m all alone and my house is practically empty. The only thing I’ve managed to buy is bed and a stove, which only works when the power is on, obviously, and the power has been going out every day for at least a couple hours which I do not understand why since the rainy season is practically over. I have peanut butter and bread at all times just in case I get ready to cook and the power goes out.

I have a shint bet and a shower room which are outside of course. I finally got used to the shint bet at my host family’s compound and now I have to get used to a whole new one (not all shint bets are the same). Several people live on my compound. There is my landlord and her family (she has 2 young kids and they’ve kept me company which is nice). There are also 3 other people that rent rooms from the landlord. My house is at the very end of the compound. In the middle of the compound there is the water faucet. Unfortunately we don’t have water all day so whenever there is water I have to fill up my bucket. (At my host family’s house we had water all the time so I never faced this issue). I’ve never had to think about my water usage because I’ve always had as much water as I could possibly want. Now I have to learn to ration it. Since there is no plumbing I don’t have a sink so what do I use? I’ve had to buy plastic buckets. Buckets are a Volunteer’s best friends. I’m lucky to have my water filter to use as a faucet. Since I have yet to buy a table (I need to do that next week), I have raised my water filter on my blue bucket (the same bucket that I store my water in). I have my orange bucket on the floor, this way when I use the water filter, the water falls straight into the bucket. I also use a bucket for washing dishes. I don’t know why I ever complained about washing dishes in the states. I hate washing my dishes here. It is such a process. Hopefully I’ll get faster at doing it. Even though I have much less water here then I did back in America I still have enough to shower, keep myself clean, wash my dishes, drink, and for cooking. Not having much water and still getting by makes me realize the ridiculous amount of water I used back home. But still, it takes a bit of time to get used to. A week sure isn’t long enough to get used to it.

All in all Peace Corps is hard. Living like this when you are used to having everything is difficult. Being in my house alone is the worst part though. Living with a host family was definitely not the best situation, however there were always people there and they helped me with whatever I needed. They also took care of everything for me so I never had to worry about having enough plastic buckets for all my daily chores. And my house does not feel like home at the moment. Right now it’s just 2 rooms with all my stuff laid out on the floor.

I’ve had to remind myself to step outside of my house everyday so I don’t become crazy or get depressed. However, this isn’t as simple as it sounds. I’ve met some really great people, but there is not one day that I walk outside and I don’t get some kind of harassment. This is enough to keep me locked in my house all day. Children seem to think I’m made of money. Every time I walk outside I have kids yelling, “Money, money, money.” I know it’s not entirely their fault. I can understand why they do this. This is the image they get of America from the films they watch and all the NGOs that come in and throw money at their country. The majority of Americans do have a lot more money than Ethiopians, but that doesn’t mean I have enough to hand out to everyone. And when I go back to America I won’t have any money. In fact I’m several thousand dollars in debt. But of course you can’t explain this to a 10 year old Ethiopian. Peace Corps does not give us a huge salary either. In fact, the budget of Peace Corps worldwide is equal to one day of the United States in Iraq. And that budget has to be split between the over 50 countries that Peace Corps is currently serving. So, “no kids, I have no money and that is not my name”. And if I were to give a kid on the street some money, then they would all expect it. And I have to live here for 2 years so I can’t start handing out birr (Ethiopian currency) to all of them. It’s not only the children that yell, “Money, money, money.” Yesterday I had an adult woman ask me for money. It wasn’t a homeless woman either. She asked me this right before stepping into her house. I’ve also seen adults smiling and laughing when kids call me money, so if the parents are not seeing a problem with this then it’s no surprise that they keep saying it. Some other things that I hear when I walk in town are “Ferengi, ferengi,” or “China, China, China.” Kids will also scream from across the street, “HELLO, HELLO, WHAT IS YOUR NAME?” This may seem harmless, but if you are screaming this at me from across the road I will not respond to you. You need to come up to me and ask me politely. Just because I’m American does not mean I’ve got some superhuman qualities. I’m a person just like them. Some would say I am lucky though, because I haven’t had anyone throw rocks at me yet. A lot of Volunteers experience this. I guess this is the whole point of Peace Corps though, to build relationships with people so they can understand you and you can understand them. It’s just that some days I can’t stand it. I just want to yell back at them to shut up. Of course I know that wouldn’t get me anywhere and only make the situation worse. Some days it doesn’t bother me, but if I’m having a bad day this kind of verbal harassment is enough to make me stay home. I can’t walk anywhere without people staring. The amount of attention I get is ridiculous. It’s frustrating to have everyone constantly watching you.

So there’s my rant. I apologize for the negative tone to this blog however this is something that all Volunteers face so I think it is important that people back home realize that we are not living a fun, exciting, adventure. We face struggles every day that go beyond having to use a shint bet. A lot of it is psychological, like the verbal harassment and the realization that we are living alone, in the middle of Ethiopia among people who speak a language that we are trying desperately to understand but still struggling with.