Teachers learn as well

I can’t believe I’m writing this blog after having been in Ethiopia for almost a year, and having completed my first year of teaching in my own classroom. There were many times throughout these past 12 months where I doubted I would reach this point. As the saying goes we are our own worst critics, and that has become more apparent to me here than ever before. PST was a challenge in adapting to a new country, culture, and environment. However, nothing could quite prepare me for what was to come.

The Peace Corps Education staff is absolutely incredible and helped us in any way they could, but my group G11 was the first in a new program model called PELLE, and as such we were the guinea pigs (and still are). We were being trained how to teach “Ethiopian style”, but even with extensive grammar lessons, sessions on large classroom management, and practice in classrooms with Ethiopian students, there is really no better classroom than the “real world”, which is what my fellow volunteers and I experienced as soon as we entered our school compounds the first week at site.

I have a background in education, and even though it is with younger children, I foolishly came in confidently, thinking that my education would help me in teaching. However, I quickly realized that pretty much every technique, every lesson, and every theory I learned in college and student teaching was not going to help me in this new foreign environment. Not only was I learning a new language and new culture outside of the school, but I was having to learn new ways to adapt to a different and tough teaching situation. Although I have come to realize that some of my background has been helpful, I still think I’m learning more about teaching and myself here than I ever did back home.

When I student taught I had a sometimes extremely difficult class. I was in a first grade class, and although I loved my students, we had some really low students and ones with behavior difficulties. I would go home and cry or text my mom that I needed a glass of wine. I thought all classes were that low academically having nothing to compare it to. I had an absolutely fabulous master teacher who taught me an incredible amount about planning, adaptation, control, and patience. We developed a team system with dealing with our more difficult kids and subjects. I came to care deeply for my students, and even the hardest ones stole a piece of my heart. I cried when I had to leave them at the end of the year. Although they would make me cry and want to pull my hair out, I never once questioned whether teaching was for me—because I would always get up in the morning excited to see those smiles, no matter what the day was like the day before. I never understood growing up how all my old teachers were able to remember me when I would come back to visit, even after years. I now understand it—your students become “your kids” and a part of you, no matter how hard they can be to handle and deal with.

My students during my student teaching year, and all my students I interacted with during the camps and after care programs I worked at throughout my years have all left impressions on me. I realized about 2 days in to my year that I was going to learn more from them than they would learn from me, and I was right. Although most lessons ended up about patience, unconditional love, and persistence, I also learned about caring for others, taking joy in everything, and finding lessons in unexpected places. I came to appreciate every small thing I gained from my first graders, those who were innocent and sometimes naïve in many aspects, and yet more of an expert than me in other parts.

But this blog is not about my precious (going to be 3^rd graders, WHAT?!) from Albuquerque, New Mexico. This is about the many lessons I learned from my larger, older, and louder, yet still “my kids” Ethiopian 9^th graders. I walked into my first of 3 sections that first day absolutely terrified. I was warned about class sizes, discipline problems, and academic ability. That first week was a fluke, as each day a few more students trickled in. I have not had a single day where all my students have showed up, and it took about 2 weeks to gain even a majority of my class. However, the behaviors I was told about quickly came to light, even with 20 students. I was close to calling my mom and dad after my first quiz where every student cheated off about 2 or 3 in the front row. I was in tears after checking the midterm to find only a few of my students out of the 210 I have on my roster actually passed without my extra credit I had promised.

I have days here where all I want to do is grab my bag, walk out of class, and not stop walking until I reach the 505. I have days where I have called my best friends in country in tears because I just can’t do it anymore. I have days where I start saying smart-ass things under my breath in class to keep myself calm.

But, I also have days where I walk into class feeling down and my students can sense that because at the end I have 3 girls or boys coming up to me with drawings of flowers, papers that say “Ms. Kelsey is gobez, or Ms. Kelsey is a good teacher”. I have days where students come into the teachers lounger just to say hi to me and ask how I’m doing, and amaze the other teachers that my students don’t hide from fear of me. I have days where I get to text my friends something hilarious that a student wrote, because even though it makes no sense, they are trying and being creative- which is more than I thought possible at the beginning of the year.

I have learned lessons daily from my students, fellow teachers, and the system as a whole. I learned that first semester that the last 2 weeks of classes are not really classes. They are more teachers showing up to check exercise books, give quizzes, and give grades. They do not do this in their own periods though, they do it when it is convenient for them, which gives me (who is a rule follower and a scheduler) a lesson in patience. I learned to adapt my teaching to finish what teaching I need to finish and then do review with the 6 kids still sitting in my class. This is just 1 of many lessons I learned this first year in my classroom. In honor of having been in country for a year, here are the 12 most important lessons I learned in the Ethiopian school system this first year.

1.    Being liked and respected are not the same thing.

This might seem obvious, but it’s not. As humans we say we want to be respected, and we do. But most of the time, we will probably act in a way to be liked. In the US it was easy enough for me to be tough on my students. But here, it has been difficult. When I got to country, I saw how the other teachers disciplined and I made a promise to myself that I would never use corporal punishment and touch a student, no matter how upset I was. I have kept that promise, although to be honest- there have been some moments where I have had to restrain myself to not reach that point. That being said, I don’t think the corporal punishment makes my students respect the other teachers. So that’s not the solution. I have been told by my Director, Vice Directors, Department Head, and other teachers that my students like me. They have talked to them and all their feedback for my class has been good. They all enjoy my teaching style, and my silliness. I am the only teacher they acknowledge on the street. But, that doesn’t translate to respect. Even after a year of the same rules and routines, I still can’t get them to all be quiet. They don’t always listen to me. They still cheat on homework, quizzes, and group work. They might smile at me and say hi outside of class, but I have a hard time believing them respect me as a teacher in the classroom.

2.   Patience is a virtue that has to be practiced all the time.

I hate the saying “patience is a virtue”. When all I want to do is scream, that is repeated to me and I want to tear off the person’s head who tells me to breath. Yet, there is a reason it is cliché and said so much, because it’s true. What’s not mentioned- is that it has to be practiced all the time. It will never be perfected, but patience can be used more effectively. Much of the school system is disorganized, with start and end dates that are changed, meetings scheduled and canceled, and periods rearranged with no communication. Students cheat off each other, copy straight off the board and book, and talk through entire lessons but then get mad at you when they fail a quiz the next day. If I have learned nothing else here, it’s that patience is needed every minute of every day. Nothing will be gained in the long run from getting upset, although in the moment sometimes that’s what keeps your sanity. Students have truly shown me the meaning of why patience is needed and has to be practiced, for those moments when it’s the only thing that keeps me going the next day. But sometimes that next day is the most rewarding day. Patience got me to that small victory.

3.   Creativity does have a place in the classroom, no matter where.

Remember, I student taught in a first grade classroom and worked as an aftercare worker and camp counselor for many years. My speciality is creativity, color, and fiction. However, this school system is not built for that. All classes are run the same, with the teacher standing at the front of the class, reading and writing notes on the board straight from the text book. The students copy the notes down word for word. The teachers don’t cross the invisible line at the front of the room, and the students don’t either. It’s a give and take relationship with no room to wiggle. Here I am, though. The crazy firenji with her crayons, colored pencils, colored paper, and posters. It’s been extremely difficult to get my students to go with my lessons, to step out of the rigid structure they are used to, and to think for themselves. I still have students who copy every word on the board in their assignments. Down to “My name is Kelsey. I have 2 brothers and 2 sisters…” I have students who ask me how many points something is worth and when I say it’s just for fun, they look at me like I have 4 heads. But I have found that even in the most boring grammar lessons or weird lessons from the text book, that there is room for at least a little creativity and free thinking, and it is appreciated, even if not understood by the students and my fellow teachers.

4.   Adaptation is not just a word used for lesson planning- it’s for every single second in the classroom.

We learned about textbook adaptation in practicum and PST. We learned how to write 4MAT lesson plans with great detail using lessons from the textbook, which we are expected to follow, while making them more free thinking and a little more American. That was useful for the first few days, when I could use the lessons already Peace Corps approved. But I began to see quickly, that how they trained us was not going to work in my own classrooms. Not only were there 70 students in a class, but most couldn’t even write their names in English, much less write even basic sentences. Some didn’t have exersice books or pens, no one brought their textbooks, and at times there weren’t enough desks for all my students. This meant even adapting the textbook as PC suggested was going to need more work. To top it off, the skills like speaking and listening that are the most difficult, the most important, and need to be practiced are almost impossible in classes that big and low. The skills to pass the system are reading, grammar, and a bit of writing. This poses a problem that we as volunteers have to figure out. This lesson learned is helped with fellow PCV’s, who are experiencing the same thing. Through texting, calling, and conferencing- this lesson becomes a little bit easier to deal with by stealing others ideas, lessons, and adapting them to fit your own students.

5.   The kids who are the most difficult are the ones who need the most care.

This is something noticed by every teacher, no matter where in the world you are. The hardest part about being a teacher is accepting this fact and then being willing to work to reach those kids. Although I know this fact to be true, they are still difficult to handle. With 70 students in a classroom all at different levels, the student in the back who is goofing off, not paying attention, or starting fights with fellow students is the least likely person you want to spend your precious time and energy focusing on. It’s easy enough to ignore them, kick them out, or try to discipline them. With a language and cultural barrier it’s even harder to reach that student. But honestly, if there is a way to reach that student, even if it’s putting them at the front desk or putting their name in a class example sentence, you are showing them that you do in fact care, no matter how hard they can be to handle. You might not change their behavior, in fact- you probably won’t. But trying and caring is the most important part of being a teacher, and showing it to your students will let them know you don’t just deal with them, you actually enjoy them.

6.   That gobez student is not going to be your favorite.

Well, that depends on the student and teacher, but this seems to be true of most volunteers I talk to. For those of you who don’t know, gobez means good. In the Ethiopian school system, the gobez students are the smart ones. The ones who play by the rules, do well on quizzes and tests, are the group leaders, and the ones who speak up in class. They are used to the being the ones who are adored and paid attention to by the teachers, because they answer in class. This doesn’t always translate to being well behaved or liked though. I have plenty of “gobez students” who don’t pay attention because they are bored and who get frustrated with me, because I call on more than them for answers in class. In fact, since getting my students to open up and participate more, I have found that many of my students are in fact “gobez”, they are just quieter, shyer, or don’t sit at the front of the class. Some of my students who I consider to have the most potential, who try the hardest, and those who make me smile aren’t always the students that pride themselves in being “the best”, they are just the ones who put forth the effort- no matter how small it may seem to everyone around them.

7.   To get your students to engage, you have to make a fool of yourself.

As with the creativity lesson, I am used to dancing around, laughing at myself, and being a little bit crazy. I think I am able to get away with this here, because they put it off as the crazy firenji teacher. To get my students to play hangman and Simon Says or get them to learn “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” and “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes”, I had to demonstrate first, with such enthusiasm and energy that I never even used with my first graders. I had to be willing to let go of all the worries I had about what they thought of me. I had to break the barrier between them and me using the reasoning that I’m their teacher, but I’m also there as a volunteer and my job is to make sure they learn, but enjoy learning not just sit there. By showing them that I was willing to be vulnerable, they let their guard down as well and showed them they were willing as well to meet me in the middle.

8.   Sometimes the only thing you can do is realize some things are beyond your control.

This is a life lesson, not just a classroom one. There are things in your control, such as how you react to people and circumstances, but there are times when the only thing you can do is throw up your hands and let things play out. Not to say you shouldn’t try to change things. For example, instead of just letting your students copy your notes because they are having a difficult time coming up with their own sentences, scaffold things slowly and be patient with each step. That’s easier said than done, and I have definitely been guilty of trying to either control everything or just give up, but it’s important to find that middle balance. Try to adapt, change, and help situations and people along, but at some point it’s important to let go and just let things happen—no matter how difficult either one is.

9.   Life throws you curveballs and you have to learn how to play with them anyways.

I’m not a baseball fan. I enjoy going to summer games, getting a hotdog, funnel cake, and beer and hanging out with friends, but that’s about where my smiles on that end. I mean, I don’t dislike the sport, but it wouldn’t be my first sport I would watch. That being said, the metaphor of life throwing curveballs is about as American as cherry pie. You can use that metaphor for most anything, but life seems to be the perfect fit. In baseball you learn when to swing and when to stay put (I think, again—I don’t know much about how to play it). As a teacher, you learn when to swing and when to stay put, when to run to the next base and when to stay on base. It’s important to know when each of those times are. You won’t always be right, and many times you will mess up and choose the wrong option. You will have days where you are down and your lesson goes awful, but you will also have days where a boring lesson turns interesting when your students give a funny sample sentence. Life throws curveballs that we won’t see or expect, and as a teacher it’s even more difficult to handle those when you are on stage with 70 15 year olds looking at you, but with quick thinking you have to run or stay on base, swing or stay still. It’s up to you, and how you handle those unexpected curveballs.

10. You can plan as much as you want, but in the end- flexibility is the only answer.

Peace Corps taught us during practicum about 4MAT lesson plans and the importance of very detailed plans. Each step needs to be written out in as much detail as possible (sometimes with exact words), objectives need certain numbers and standards to reach. In the US there is a place for that, especially with so much pressure on reaching certain standards. Here though, I don’t think I have taught a single lesson where I have actually used my entire lesson I planned. It is good to have a map of where you want to go, with specific examples for things like grammar. However, I learned about the third day in, that you are going to have to throw away most of your lesson depending on your students. I have been able to plan more as I have learned about my students, but I still go in and change my lessons on the fly. From realizing my students aren’t understanding a concept, to seeing they are bored with what I’m doing. From changing my lecture style format to a race game, from changing an individual writing activity to a class discussion, all from minute to minute is a lesson I have learned every single day. It’s important to plan and know your material, but your lesson is going to be a fail if you stick to the lesson you wrote without reading your students and adapting to their needs.

11.  There are clear right answers on tests, but not in life.

On Ethiopian written tests there might in fact be more than one correct answer, however generally there should only be one correct answer. The answer to whether the sentence “Ms. Kelsey was born in America” is true or false (it’s true) is a clear-cut response. There are 2 choices and 1 right answer. That’s the beauty of multiple-choice questions. Although it leaves no room for creativity or much actual thought, at least it gives the answerer something they can count on. In life and in teaching though, the answers aren’t so simple. As with the life and throwing curveballs, the same thing applies to questions and answers. As with teaching, there are no clear-cut questions either. It’s not as if each problem you face has 1 question with 3 possible answers, you pick one, and if you pick the correct solution then you get to move onto the next step in life. I wish it was that easy. Instead, as a teacher you run into a variety of problems, experiences, and situations like students on phones in class, students cheating, teachers taking your class time for their quizzes, or students asking awkward health questions. As a teacher, you have to be willing to try and face each problem with your own answer, knowing full well there is no right or wrong one (although some may produce better outcomes than others).

12. Take the small victories, they become the large ones.

I didn’t become a teacher to change all my students. I didn’t join Peace Corps to change the world. Although sometimes I forget that, and want to do both. I can get upset with myself when I only have 3 kids participate in class or when I notice all my students copied off the same 6 kids. I tend to blame myself when things don’t go perfectly. But then I am reminded by my friends here, my family back home, and my old teachers- that it’s really the small victories. Yes, I won’t improve every student’s scores (in fact, some went down). Yes, I won’t get every student to speak out in class. Yes, most of my classes will still talk through my lessons. But the day when a student who never speaks a word answers a question correctly, when a student who never participates writes or draws a beautiful thing for me, or when a student spells her name in sign language after 1 class, those are the small victories. On the most difficult days, it’s remembering the mall victories that help me get over the larger humps.

During PST we were warned that we would get frustrated at site. As humans we like instant gratification, no matter how much we might say we don’t. We like to see the evidence of our work, especially when we care so much. As teachers and volunteers it can be hard because our work and effort is so often thankless and many times it will take years to actually see the outcome of our work. We heard stories of students tracking down volunteers after 10 years to tell them they ended up going to college and becoming engineers with 2 kids and a happy marriage. I mean, that’s a happy ending story that won’t apply to a majority of us and our students, but I hope that each one of us will have at least that much impact on even one student or person in our community.

I have learned many things from this experience, journey, or adventure- (whatever label you want to put on it). From this new culture, country and people, to my fellow volunteers, to the school system, to my students I have learned different lessons that can really be applied in most of my life here and at home. I have now been in country for almost year, I have finished my first year of teaching in my own classroom, and I am about to embark on a lovely vacation home before coming home to complete my 27 months of service. I have experienced so much, more than words and pictures can ever express. The world truly is the largest classroom, and lessons are learned every day, in the most unexpected places and in the most unexpected ways. You just have to open up yourself and be willing to learn those lessons, both easy and difficult, for your life to really be developed and shaped by everything around you. You might be surprised in what you discover about yourself, faith, the world around you, and humanity in general.

Eat Pray Love and the beauty of the written word

Before I begin, let me put a disclaimer on this blog: I am not one of those people that particularly enjoys reading about other people’s lives. What I mean to say is, I prefer to read about fiction with made up people and situations. I figure if I want to learn about other’s lives I can just listen and look to the people in my own life. I enjoy hearing about people who have made a difference in the world, who have given inspiration, and so some biographies are interesting to me. But when it comes to books where people “find themselves” or who publish something to say they are published, I generally keep walking past that part of the bookshelf. Another disclaimer: I am also not a huge believer in people who think they have to travel to find balance. I love to travel, I mean—I’m writing this from Ethiopia. But, I am here for reasons I’m still trying to figure out, not because I needed a break from the world I was living in, or because of some path of destiny that led me here.

With both of those disclaimers written, I can say that “Eat Pray Love” was so not on my top list of books to read. Yes, I knew that it was a hit with many groups of friends, book clubs, and women in general and has been for many years. Yes, I have seen the movie (although like all book to movie adaptations the movie was vastly different). And yes, I knew that it wasn’t considered a classic and wouldn’t change my life in any huge way. But despite all of that, I decided after having read a string of sad, long, or heavy books that I needed a break from that. I needed a book I could just read for the pleasure of the written word without having to delve into anything too deeply. “Eat Pray Love” is one of those books you read at the beach with a pina colada or curled up on the couch with a glass (or bottle) of wine. Just the sort of escape I need having been in Ethiopia for almost a year, but with a year and about 3 months left.

I began reading thinking I knew exactly what was going to happen. After all, I had seen the movie. I know, I know. I shouldn’t come to expect that. I have read way too many books that became movies to have assumed that, but for some reason that notion was still in my head. However, I realized that the movie changed characters, who said what, who impacted her in what ways, and how things fit into her life. One thing it did not change: my position on her. I don’t mean to judge, and I know that everyone handles things differently and that situations are different for every person. But to me, I was really annoyed with her and how she handled her situation for the entire book. This author wrote her honest and truthful opinion and feelings, for millions of people to read. But for me, I rolled my eyes through most of it. She acts as if she is the only person in the world to go through a divorce and heart break, and she acts more like a spoiled 17 year old than a grown up woman. She acts as if she is the only person who has ever had to rebuild her life, and even as others around her were going through much tougher things, she continuously harped back to her divorce and failed relationship. But this blog isn’t about that, it’s about what she learned through her journeys through Italy, India, and Bali that weirdly and deeply apply to my own experiences through this past year.

“This is a sweet expression. Bel far niente means ‘the beauty of doing nothing.’… There’s another wonderful Italian expression: l’arte d’arrangiarsi- the art of making something out of nothing. The art of turning a few simple ingredients into a feast, or a few gathered friends into a festival. Anyone with a talent for happiness can do this”

I have always been a planner. I am my mother’s daughter. I have a pretty constant need to make sure I have a list or a plan. Even if I don’t follow it, even if it never gets read- having it there makes me feel better. I am not sure why, but knowing that a schedule is in place calms me down, where to others it makes them feel trapped. I am also someone that keeps busy. I have to be doing something. I worked, took classes, student taught, and was in Chi Omega my senior year of college. I like to be doing something, because even if I’m stressed, at least I feel like I’m accomplishing something. Therefore, Ethiopia and Peace Corps has been a serious challenge in more than one way. Not only have I had to learn how to let my control freak in me go, but I have had to realize what it means to be alone with my thoughts for the first time in a long time. Bel far niente in Italy means something different than bel far niente in Ethiopia, different countries, different cultures. But the idea is the same. The idea here that you can’t start a meeting until you have had shay buna, which can include an entire coffee ceremony, or that school doesn’t really start until teachers and students feel like coming. The control part of me has had to adapt to this rhythm, and although I’m still learning and adapting, I think I am a more relaxed person, although I’m sure some of my friends would disagree with me. I am now ok with (and actually prefer) to spend time alone in my room, reading, listening to music, or coloring. I enjoy socializing, but unlike back home where I always needed to have plans, here sometimes sitting with my thoughts is much more enjoyable to me. It took coming to a place and being forced to be “flexible” (Peace Corps favorite word) where I have begun to understand the idea of bel far niente.

“Attraversiamo”

This is not really a quote from this book, it’s a single Italian word that means “let’s cross over”. It’s an important one in the book, although the movie makes it even more so. In my life, it means more than crossing a street like how it’s intended. I entered this journey almost a year ago and have come to realize that crossing over is more than getting on a plane, or crossing the finish line. It’s about being willing to step into the unknown, cross an invisible boundary out of your comfort zone, and make yourself vulnerable while at the same time making yourself stronger. I’m getting philosophical here, exactly what drove me crazy about the book. But it’s true, attreversiamo means different things to different people. For me, it gives me a word to explain what I did when I stepped on the plane to Ethiopia, when I walked across the stage at the US Embassy after shaking hands with the ambassador, and what I did the first time I walked out of the bus station in Adwa. I “crossed over” to a new life and a new adventure.

“I don’t care how diligently scholars of every religion will try to sit you down with their stacks of books and prove to you through scripture that their faith is indeed rational; it isn’t. If faith were rational, it won’t be- by definition- faith. Faith is the belief in what you cannot see or prove or touch. Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark. If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it would not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be… a prudent insurance policy”

I go to church. I was baptized and grew up in the same church in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I am a Christian, and even though I have not attended a church service in a year, I still pray every morning and every evening. I went through a short period where I didn’t, but that has less to do with a rebellion or a change of heart, than mere forgetfulness. Not to say I forgot God or how to pray, but I became so wrapped up in myself that the idea of praying just didn’t occur to me. But here I am in Ethiopia, and I have realized that my faith is actually getting stronger. This just proves that you don’t have to attend church to be a true believer. This book had a lot about faith, especially in the second part while she was in India. Not surprising since Liz was at an ashram, surrounded by faith. There were many quotes that could have come from other deep philosophers instead of a middle aged women writing about “finding herself”, but this one stuck to me as the most important in my own journey. As I already talked about with the Italian word attreversiamo, this experience has given me more about trusting and faith than I ever thought possible. I have always been a guarded person and never thought of myself as vulnerable. I rarely cry in front of people, and I like to consider myself strong. Being vulnerable has never been an appealing thing, but coming to Ethiopia I have had to lean on my faith more than I ever realized would be possible. I have had to walk face-first and full-speed into the dark. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into after having read blogs, Peace Corps related materials, and Facebook but boy was I wrong. This life I’m leading is not one that can ever be explained in pictures or words. As brilliant a writer or as fantastic a photographer a person may be, there is no way to show what you will truly experience. The random moments that make my life as crazy and charmed as it is can no way be explained, or experienced first hand. But those are only made when you let go and let yourself be led into the unknown. The random wedding invitations, the twirling kids, the buna ceremonies with teachers, are all part of a world that I would not be a part of if I didn’t take a giant leap of faith every time I step out the door and if I didn’t let down my guard to let God be in control and take me where I need to go. My faith has become stronger through hoping and knowing that I am being led and protected to where I need to go and who I am supposed to become, even in the moments where it seems like it’s just a dark tunnel with no end.

“There is so much about my fate that I cannot control, but other things do fall under my jurisdiction. There are certain lottery tickets I can buy, thereby increasing my odds of finding contentment. I can decide how I spend my time, whom I interact with, whom I share my body and life and money and energy with. I can select what I eat and read and study. I can choose how I’m going to regard unfortunate circumstances in my life- whether I will see them as curses or opportunities (and on the occasions when I can’t rise to the most optimistic viewpoint, because I’m feeling too damn sorry for myself, I can choose to keep trying to change my outlook). I can choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all, I can choose my thoughts”

I tend to pride myself on being a person who has a “I totally know what I’m doing” attitude, even when I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I don’t like to be vulnerable and I think of myself as being a strong person. I try not to cry in front of people, although when I’m alone that’s a different story. With all of that being said, it’s hard in new situations not to turn yourself into the victim many times. Although there are certainly situations that are appropriate to blame on others, both through their actions and what becomes of them, I think we sometimes lean too heavily on the easy way out. It’s easy, especially as a person who is in a different place than normal, to blame where you are, who you are, and how you act on others, on things that are out of your control. Again, some things are. What is in our control is how we react to those people, those situations, those great and tough times. I forget them. I have too often here taken the road of letting myself become a victim. It’s enough to blame cultural differences, without really owning up to how I could take control and change myself. There are plenty of things in Ethiopia and Peace Corps that I can’t change, there are cultural differences that do make things more difficult and sometimes impossible, and there are people that do things that challenge us in new ways. But, if I have learned nothing else so far, it’s that I’m still the person in control of my fate. Sure, I can’t control when students and teachers show up to school, I can’t change the crazy guy yelling naked on the street, I can’t control creepy marriage proposals, and I can’t change donkeys that wander in front of a racing mini bus. But I can control how I act to the students and teachers that do come in hopes they will inspire others to show up, I can control how I think about the crazy guy yelling and remember he has a story too, I can control how I react to the creepy marriage proposals so as not to bring on more, and I can change my frightened persona in a mini bus to one who laughs at the absurdity of it all. No matter how difficult it may be, especially when situations just seem beyond my control and reach, that like Liz, I can in fact, choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all, I can choose my thoughts. Because my thoughts turn to words and actions, which in turn, show my community who I am.

“She says that people universally tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will maybe descend upon you like fine weather if you’re fortunate enough. But that’s not how happiness works. Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings.”

Happiness is a word that means something different to each person, and can change depending on the mood of each person. As I am reminded by one of the journals I was given as a graduation/going away to Ethiopia present, “Happiness is a journey, not a destination”. We as humans are always working for the next thing, the end result. Even those who truly enjoy what they do, who stop and smell the roses, even they are looking for something at the end. We are trained to look for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, when really the thing of beauty- the rainbow, is right in front of us. Well, joke is on us- because there is no pot of gold and there is no end of the rainbow. We might go searching for it, and we forget to take what is real, what is beautiful, and what we should be concentrating on. Another thing about happiness is that we tend to think it will just happen. If we get what we think we want, if we reach what we have been working for, that we will instantly be happy. But that’s also false. We don’t just become happy. Sure, there are things that when happen give us a smile or make us feel less sad. But, that’s not true happiness. Happiness is not a destination that once we get there we will stay at. It’s how we get somewhere. I never really enjoyed “the little things” back in the US. Sure, there were things, people, times that made me happy. But I was guilty of always wanting something more, always thinking I would be happy if I just did one more thing. But then I did something crazy, I decided to try and find happiness on the other side of the world. I haven’t always been happy over here. In fact, over the past year I have cried more than I can ever remember, I have been more down than ever. But on the opposite end, I have come to realize moments of true happiness. They didn’t just appear, I had to work at them. They weren’t big moments either. My greatest happiness here has come from “the little things” like having my hair braided by 6 year olds, having an old lady smile at me at market when she found I spoke even a word of her language, coffee with my landfamily, watching a new couple at a wedding, twirling neighborhood kids, having a student speak up in class for the first time, or being called “Ms. Kelsey” in a random bus station. I have always thought that happiness would come from something big, from an “ah-ha!” moment, but in fact I have found happiness in random things that I never thought would be that special, but somehow they are truly the memories I hold most dear.

“I think about the woman I have become lately, about the life that I am now living, and about how much I always wanted to be this person and live this life, liberated from the farce of pretending to be anyone other than myself… Knowing already that everything would be OK, that everything would eventually bring us together here. Right here, right to this moment. Where I was always waiting in peace and contentment, always waiting for her to arrive and join me”

This comes towards the end of the book, where she has been through the food of Italy, the faith of India, and the balance of Bali. She has seen and experienced more in these pages than a lot of people will experience in their lifetime. That being said, she has just seen a small bit of each of these places, even though she has lived in each one for 4 months. I am not much better—living in a place even for 2 years is not that much. Sure, I am integrating, working, and becoming more a part of the community than she ever did. But I’m still an outsider. I have been able to do a lot of thinking about the person I have become this past year. I have talked with my friends here, and back home about tendencies I have developed, patterns I have established, and parts of my personality that have come out more since being here. I don’t believe people change so rapidly that they become a completely different person in the span of a year, but I do think when thrown in new and strange situations, you can become a different version of yourself. I find myself acting in ways I never would have in the US, like ignoring people on the street, yelling at students, and becoming more of an introvert. However, I have also grown in ways, like being willing to talk to my neighbors, try new foods, and just experience everything that Ethiopia has to offer. I am not at the place of peace and contentment that Liz was at when she wrote this. I don’t think I will ever be there. In fact, if anything this experience has made me more jaded and tough. But, I do think what I have experienced, seen, and felt in this past year has made me the woman I am today. I am not necessarily the person I want to be, and I never would have pictured my life this way, but I am teaching, experiencing a new culture, and traveling. This is what I have always wanted to do. I have not had a chance to travel so far, like I wanted. But I still have the travel bug that I have always had. I have always been a little afraid to step out of my comfort zone, but with this I jumped into a new environment head first, and that’s given me the courage to want to travel like Liz and experience even more of the world, even if it is just a post card glimpse.

“In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it’s wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices”

I feel like every blog I write has something to do with friends and family back home and here. I sometimes think you might get bored of being thanked. After all, I’m the one who is doing this crazy thing, why do you all need to be thanked? Every time I try to talk about myself and where I am though, I come to the same conclusion—I would not be here and doing this if it wasn’t for the amazing people in my life, so I will say thank you about 500 million more times. It is true that we make our own destiny, that we take control of our lives, and that we are the reason for being where we are. But in all honesty, no one would be where they are without the profound influence of people in their lives—good and bad. I am blessed to have great influencers around me that have helped guide me. I have memories, lessons, and blessings from every one in my life that have stuck with me through it all. I have experienced the miraculous scope of human generosity in my own life, before this journey and on this journey. I have seen the selflessness of my family and friends as they have guided me to help me become the woman I am today. But I have also seen this in my fellow volunteers and people in my community. I have seen and experienced first hand the incredible generosity of humans, from a volunteer who helped pay for a students school fees because the grandmother couldn’t to a random man on a bus who helped get me back to site after my bus broke down and then invited me to his mothers house for buna and food. I have been blessed with friends and family who pray for others even when they are down themselves, who send me pick me ups when I need them most, who spend their phone birr to make sure I’m ok, who ask how my cousin is recovering, who come in and talk to my classes when I was having discipline problems, who invite me for buna when the power is out, and who greet me with a smile when I’m about to cry. Thanks never seems enough, and even Liz agrees, but those are sometimes the only words that can even begin to express my feelings. Being here has truly shown me how loved I am back home, how grateful I am for the people here, and how incredible human beings can be.

The Importance of Friends

“You can’t pick your family, but you can pick your friends”

This is a very true saying. Although I do have an amazing family and wouldn’t change them for the world, there are many times where my friends become my support system I can jump into. Friends come and go, and that has become a very real reality for me, especially recently.

I have realized that how you acquire and keep friends in your life depends on your age, to an extent. Generally when you are little your friends are the people who your parents hung out with, they are the ones who were nice enough to share their snack with you, or the kid whose desk was next to yours. Maybe you liked the same sparkly sticker or were on the same soccer team. As you get older, you become more particular about whom you call friends. You become more likely to hang out with someone because they have the same interests, run in the same social circle, or because you want the same outcome from a situation. Your ties generally become deeper than desk buddies, they become more emotional and more time consuming.

I have also begun to realize that as you grow older, your friends become a much bigger part of your life. They become more than the person whose house you go to for play dates, more than sandbox and lunch time buddies, a person whose birthday party you attend. They become the people you call crying after your parent’s divorce or marriage, the people who will bring you chocolate after a break up, the people who will literally pick you up on the side of the road when your car breaks down. They are also the people who order a cake when you get a job, buy you a drink to celebrate your 21^st birthday, and let you be giddy when you fall in love.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Now I don’t know who came up with that and thought it was true, but I don’t agree. They obviously never moved half way across the world leaving behind the life they knew for 27 months. Then again, maybe they are the sane ones, because hearing that I sound insane to have ever thought that was an exciting idea.

The great thing about friends is that those who are truly your friends will be there for you, even across the world. The other great thing about friends- is that you can make them anywhere. I have gathered friends throughout my life and have met some of my best friends in different circumstances. Some have come and gone, people that I thought would be my best friends now left, other people I never would have expected to be my friends are now my greatest confidantes.

That’s the crazy thing about life that bleeds into friendship- you never know what is going to happen. My life has been an unexpected journey full of twists and turns, bumps and highs. It’s been a roller coaster full of ups and downs. My family and friends have been there for me through them all. I have always taken for granted what God has given me in my life. I have always known I’m blessed, but being here on this adventure has shown me just how blessed I have been, especially with the people that surround me.

Recently (well in the past year), I have really seen who has stuck with me in my triumphs and struggles. My friends back home who send me letters, messages, and pictures remind me that I am still loved, no matter how far away I am. My friends here who let me randomly text them, call them, and send me sweet and random pick me ups remind me that I am not alone in this crazy thing, even though I am “alone” at site.

My friend circle has grown as I have grown up. So has the diversity of my friends. If I were to get married tomorrow (don’t worry, that’s not even a thought in my head right now), I have my bridesmaids picked out. I have the people I would invite to watch me tie the knot. I have those people who are important in my life. And what’s so interesting is that they are never the people I would have expected to be there if you had asked me that even a few months ago.

Circumstances change people, both for the good and bad. I think circumstances also change how people interact with each other. My best friends over here are never people I would have talked to or even probably met in the States, but because of our circumstances they have become my greatest support system when I am so far away from my normal supporters.

Friends are those people that are there for you through everything, and I don’t think I ever truly realized that until they are the only ones that are close enough for you to truly rely on. Don’t get me wrong, my family is still the most important thing to me, but they are half a world away, and sometimes I just need a hug or a pick me up. My friends at home are helpful in a completely different way, when I need to escape from my world here and just delve into a nerdy conversation about life back home.

All this is to say, thank you to everyone I am privileged enough to call my friend. I can’t begin to shout out everyone that I consider friends, because there are too many. I just want you to know that I am lucky to be called your friend, and I hope you feel the same. My friends are those who pick me up when I’m down, help me when I have trouble remembering how to walk, they have helped me smile and laugh when I’m crying, they have supported me through my good and bad times, and they have helped me remember how loved I am, all around the world all the time.