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