Celebrating Easter... Ethiopian Style

One of the things I loved about the first few months in Ethiopia was that everything was new and exciting. Every day something happened that made me go “Wow, this is my life,” or “That’s very different from how things are done in the US.” I’m used to comparing my life here to back there, and the differences are enormous. But after awhile, things that still blow people’s minds back home seem more common place and normal here. Seeing goats, donkeys, cattle, and chickens around my neighborhood is “normal”, not having power, network, or water for days is “normal”, having 70 kids in a classroom meant for 30 is “normal”. Although it might be all new and exciting to people back home, for me I am finally settling into a life with all its quirks. The great thing about holidays is that it is new for me too. Every holiday and celebration over here is that shiny new thing again that I get to experience for the first time.

Every holiday that is celebrated is talked about for days and weeks, preparations are made, and tales are told about them. What I have noticed though is that so far none of the holidays have risen to my expectations. Maybe it’s because I compare them to how I celebrated in the US, maybe it’s because they were built up by people so much, or maybe it’s because I am just expecting to have earth shattering memories. Whatever the reason though, I have experienced nothing but calm holidays with my land family that consist of me watching TV, eating (and occasionally drinking sewa), and then reading in my room. Don’t get me wrong, those are great days and give me some calm in my sometimes (actually always) weird life. But, I have been hoping for something more.

Fasika or Easter is celebrated a week behind the rest of the world. As you may know, Ethiopia is a week behind the rest of the world in their calendar. Their new year is our September 11 and they have 11 months of 30 days plus 1 month of 6 days (they are also 7-8 years behind us and are currently in 2007). I don’t quite understand; it’s just something I have accepted.

This being so, last weekend was Palm Sunday and Friday was Good Friday. They celebrated both much like the US. Palm Sunday was full of palms being waved by children around town after church in the morning. Another similarity being the US and here is that many children don’t come to school before holidays. Although it’s a less persistent problem in the US, children do miss school for family travel. Here, it’s common knowledge that you probably won’t have class the few days before and after holidays. I had about ½ of my classes on Thursday (about 30 students), which was more than most of my fellow Volunteers. Some Volunteers showed up to locked schools or combined classes. According to teachers and other locals, many students will not come Monday or even Tuesday of next week. Many travel to see their families in villages and other cities, and because of transportation here, it takes a much longer period of time than hopping in a car or on a plane like in the US. Forget the fact that our spring semester is already cut painfully short due to model exams and national exams—that’s a whole other issue.

I learned a couple of things on Good Friday: My compound has like 5 other parts I didn’t know existed, when getting your hair done in Ethiopia expect an all day outing, whoever says beauty isn’t pain has obviously never gotten Tigray hair bumps, it is possible to get an Ethiopian hair style even with “firenji soft” hair, when I’m having sugar withdrawals I crave things like Dr. Pepper and Capri Suns, and it is possible to spend 50 phone birr in 1 day texting Ally, Natanya, Jessie, and Kacey.

I was told by my land family Thursday night that I was to clean my room for Fasika. Now, this is a great idea (it hadn’t been cleaned in a long time), but I did feel a bit like a 15 year old living at home again. I was thinking in my head “no one is going to be coming into my room and I’m an adult,” but all I could say was “Ishi”. I was also told I would be getting my hair done, although I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. Sure enough, Friday morning I had a knock on my door from my land niece. We went with another lady from my compound (who is actually a math teacher at my school) to a salon to get our hair done. The one regret I have from the day: not bringing my book to read.

We went to a salon that was more like a room in a compound with about 20 women all stuffed inside. Fasika is a huge holiday here because it ends a 55-day fast of no meat or dairy, so everyone goes all out. We waited for awhile but my land niece decided it would take too long so we went to another salon that was in an apartment building, but much cleaner and more open. Mahlet (my land niece who is about 20) got her hair done first and then I got mine done. It hurt a lot, because they braid in bumps of yarn that are wound up. My hair is softer than they are used to, and it doesn’t hold like theirs does. Somehow the woman doing my hair managed to braid them in anyways. I actually don’t look as ridiculous as I thought I would.

We waited for Leteesh (the math teacher) to get bumps in hers, and then we met my landlady who went to get hers done after ours. I only got the bumps/braids and they left the back of my hair. The other women had fake curls basically sewn into their hair. My hair is brown and they have no fake hair that matches my color. We finally made it home at 2pm (we left my house around 8:30am). It was then time for some “spring cleaning” where I managed to organize, throw away, and stack most of my belongings. I don’t know where all of this stuff came from—I have more than when I came to country. Everything seems to multiply.

I am grateful to have had my Good Friday experience, even though it was exhausting. My friends around the country were invited to church services and I was bummed to hear that, because I hadn’t been invited to any thing. But then I had an all day affair with my land family (complete with food, buna, and sewa that evening), where as my friends who had been invited to things were never told details or were almost forgotten. I feel awful for them, but we are getting used to being left out of the loop or people just assuming we know what is going on (like the fact you aren’t allowed to eat before going to church, or that no one eats until 5pm on Good Friday). It’s one of those “normals” we are beginning to feel.

Saturday was less of an adventure, because there was no significance to the day. It was much like a “normal” day, with one exception. Because of the breaking of the 55-day fast, everyone (and I mean everyone) was buying chickens, goats, and occasionally cows to take home to slaughter for Easter. I didn’t even venture to actual market, but walking from my house to meet friends for lunch on the main road, I walked past probably 100 goats being walked like dogs by their perspective “owners” in all different directions, chickens were being carried by the legs, and I even saw a few cows being herded. I am used to seeing animals like this, especially on market day. But the extent and number of animals I saw surprised me. It reminded me that Easter was in fact the next day. I was then reminded of this again when I arrived back to my compound to a goat tied to a tree outside my room, bleating and hoping that I would cut it free instead of keep it tied up (sorry buddy, no can do!)

As I have experienced with everything else, but especially holidays over here, no Peace Corps experiences are the same. My friends in small towns tend to get more invites, they venture out of their houses, and they eat a lot of food on holidays. I was hoping Fasika would be different for me this time. That I would go to different houses, eat 10 meals, and have lots of visitors. It seemed that’s how it would go leading up to the day. But sadly, my day was a pretty calm one. I mean, I enjoy calm and knowing what is going on. But there is something to be said for a completely new experience, which Fasika wasn’t for me.

I fell asleep Saturday night around 10pm to the sounds of the church, animals, and my land family cooking. I woke up around 2am for the bathroom and heard the churches and animals still (I’m used to the churches and animals, but not to this volume). I then woke up around 6am (thank you natural alarm clock), and decided to get dressed and ready. I had no idea what my land family’s plan was for the day and didn’t want to be the odd one out. So I got dressed, put on make up (well foundation, blush, and mascara) for the first time since swear in, and plucked my eyebrows. As soon as I opened my door and window my land family invited me in for food.

My first round of doro wat (chicken) was done by 8am followed by my first round of sewa and buna. I was the only one in a traditional dress- my land family were all wearing their “regular clothes”. One of my land ladies Almetu changed into her traditional dress to go somewhere, and I luckily got pictures with her. She showed me how to wear my nutella (the traditional scarf). I wanted pictures with my entire land family, but my landlady never changed into a traditional dress, and my land niece changed but left promptly after.

I had another round of food at around 1:30, but the rest of the day was spent relaxing, watching TV/listening to music, and napping. You could tell they were all exhausted from the past week. I napped a little as well, although my time was taken up by reading “Anna Karenina”. I started it a few weeks ago, and pushed through almost half to finish it! I missed the sheep being slaughtered again, which was fine with me. I always know when they are going to kill it, because guys come in with overalls and knives. I have managed to avoid actually watching a sheep slaughter, and I would like to keep it that way.

I am currently sitting in my room at 7pm on Easter after having changed out of my traditional dress. Although it was a big hit with my land family and the compound neighbors that came by, I sadly didn’t have an opportunity to show it off to anyone else. Both my land lady and counter part want me to wear it to school tomorrow, so I guess I will be “habasha” in the class tomorrow, although like I stated earlier in this post, I won’t have many students. I am not sure if I will be invited in for more food or festivities. Things look like they are winded down- although the meat remains uncooked.

The interesting thing about holidays over here is they are all celebrated the same. No matter what they are celebrating, no matter how your site celebrates it, they are all full of food, drink, and TV. I sometimes wonder how they can handle doing the same thing every holiday, until I looked at how we celebrate holidays in the US and I realized we do the same thing. Yes, we have a variety of foods that they don’t have, but we celebrate holidays with food, drink, and TV as well.

I was a little upset that not “more things happened” on this holiday. I have friends who almost die from doro wat overload, have blisters from walking to so many houses, or don’t get home until after dark. I had none of that. But as my friend Jessie so amazingly pointed out: “Nothing happened? You got your hair braided, a beautiful dress, ate good food, finished book, took nap, avoided hill of death! Lots happened.” Sometimes I get into my head what experiences can and should be, without remembering that every experience is different, new, and amazing in its own way.

Welcome to my life. It includes drinking alcoholic drinks at 8:30am, taking a nap with an 800 page book in an Ethiopian living room, getting compliments when walking into a room with a traditional dress on and hair done, and spending time with a land family that has turned into a surrogate family over here. Happy Easter/Sibuk Fasika. One down. One more to go.