Organized Chaos and Community Involvement: An Ethiopian Wedding

In my lifetime I have attended 14 weddings, 4 in America and 10 in Ethiopia. If you look purely at the numbers you would probably expect me to know a lot more about the goings on in Ethiopian weddings and knowing what to expect. In reality though, I am still much more informed about weddings in America. Although I have only personally attended 4, I have movies, TV shows, and lots of stories and pictures from others to relate to how a wedding is conducted and what is expected. In Ethiopia however, it is a much different story. The only examples I have are the ones I have gone to, and even then I am never entirely sure what is going on.

This past weekend the girl that lives in my compound, one of my landlady’s daughters got married. I just learned she was getting married about a month ago, but after I heard about it, that’s been all that’s happened in my compound. My landlady invited all of my Peace Corps friends who visited my compound in the last month, which meant Jessie, Ally, Jimi, and Sylvia were all extended an invitation.

In America wedding invitations are printed, a wedding guest list is carefully prepared, generally with numbers being counted, especially if the wedding is at a place where individual place settings are prepared. Most weddings there is only a certain number and type of people, family and friends of the bride and groom, invited. In Ethiopia however, the entire community is invited with invitations being printed and passed out to most everyone, some people not even receiving formal invitations. The week before the wedding invitations were passed out in my teachers lounge and I didn’t realize they were for the wedding in my compound, so I was hurt at first because I thought I was being left out of a wedding all the other teachers were being invited to, but then I realized it was Mahlet’s wedding, and I didn’t feel bad anymore, because I didn’t need an invitation.

Food and drink is prepared so that no matter how many people walk into the tent, they have enough for everyone, including the beggars that occasionally stop by to receive a plate of food. Jessie’s family had many different animals slaughtered, and they didn’t serve as much meat as mine did. I’m not sure how many cows, goats, sheep, and chickens were bought slaughtered, but I am guessing it was quite a few and therefore quite a bit of money. Cows are not cheap animals here, with sheep, goats, and chickens being more common.

            In America there are generally other people besides just the bride and grooms family and friends involved in the planning and execution of the wedding. Whether they hire a wedding planner, a caterer, or a wedding venue, there are people to help plan, set up, cook, serve, and take down the wedding. In Ethiopia the community is relied upon to do all of that. It is a great showing of one of the many things I admire about this country. Not only is the extended family involved in the wedding itself, but the extended family, friends, neighbors, and sometimes it seems random people, are all brought in to set up, cook, serve, and clean up afterwards.

            Jessie’s compound family had a wedding 2 weekends before mine, so I was hearing some of what went on from her. She lives at the grooms’ house and I live at the brides’, which means that different preparations and ceremonies are set up at them. From what we gathered and observed, much more happens at the brides house before the wedding, where as much more happens at the grooms house after the wedding. This means that the week and a half before the wedding took place I had people streaming in and out of my compound, with occasional compound guests, from around 6am to late after I went to sleep. They were all introduced as family, although Ethiopians introduce everyone as brothers and sisters, so I’m not entirely sure how many people I actually met the past month were family, and how they are related.

            The Thursday a week before the wedding I was invited out of my room at about 9 to the other part of my compound to listen to music, dance with my compound family, drink coffee and then Ouzo (disgusting alcohol that they seem to love, they take it as shots and put it in tea and coffee), and keep other girls from my compound company as they broke up burned injira to make sewa. I finally excused myself at about 10:30 to go to bed, although the music was still pumping. That was the beginning of the preparation for the sewa and food. It was relatively quiet the next few days, except for when a cinderblock wall and tarp was put up in my compound as a sewa house to make and store all the sewa (the only drink served at the wedding). That is, until Thursday (3 days before the wedding) when I woke up at 5:45am to men’s voices, walked outside my room, and saw the massive amounts of men in the other part of my compound putting up giant logs to make a tent of sorts.

            I left my compound to teach, and when I came back the same types of beams were not only in the open space across the wall from my room, but also in the entrance way to my compound and there was a tarp tied on top to make a tent, much like the one Luke made for Rory’s going away party in “Gilmore Girls.” I entered my compound to find a massive amount of women chopping onions, potatoes, and carrots. Onion chopping parties are a very common thing here, as all Ethiopian food dishes require them, and so we don’t really count your Ethiopian Peace Corps service as complete without having “attended one” aka, helped chop onions. I did not have class Friday as my schools finals started, so much like Thursday I left my compound to get Internet with many people in my compound already, hanging out, drinking buna, talking, and working to prepare. Jessie came in Friday, so we arrived back at my house to even more women than when I left. When we arrived back in my compound Rahwa a girl who lives next to me braided Jessies and mine hair back “habasha style”. Some girls here get intricate braid designs, however with our hair not really made to braid, she just did corn rows back. The first half of her hair took an hour, because her hair is so long and Rahwa was doing fairly small braids, but she did bigger ones of the other side of her hair, so it went quicker. My entire head took less than an hour, although her hands were probably exhausted. We listened to my “Let’s Jam” iTunes playlist which is basically upbeat rap and pop songs with good beats, and we jammed out with my door and window open with Ethiopians occasionally popping in to see how the firenji hair was going.

            Saturday I was not in my compound for much of the day, because Ally, Jessie, and I were having “firenji” time, but when we came back in the afternoon it seemed like a bee hive, full of noise and buzzing around, as every person had their role and they knew exactly what they were supposed to do, without being told or asked. Many more members of their family were staying with us at this point, although I’m still unclear how many siblings my land family actually has. I am certain however that I have now met more of their family than I ever have of my own back in America. I’m convinced Ethiopians rarely sleep anyways, but with the intensity of the wedding on Sunday, I don’t think they slept at all Saturday night. I went to bed fairly late (we started watching a new TV show), and they were still busy as bees at 11pm, and were up Sunday morning before dawn.

            Sunday morning I was not sure what to expect. The invitation said that the wedding started at 6 (their time) or noon (our time), but I knew from experience that that’s a very tentative time. Jessie, Ally, and I got dressed around 10:30 and got ready. Jessie and I had gotten our hair braided “habasha style” Friday by Rahwa, a girl in my compound, and we had our new gold traditional dresses we bought the weekend before with my landlady. Ally had on jeans and her hair was not done in braids, but she did wear an Ethiopian shawl. I put in my contacts for the first time at site, and put on makeup for only the 3^rd or 4^th time in service. I was expecting people to say something, because I look different without my glasses, but no Ethiopians commented. We were called out to food at around noon by one of the compound sisters, and so we were served fir fir, dinish wat, and a few different kinds of meat all with massive amounts of burbery, and instructed to sit down on a bench in the wedding tent. We were some of the first people there and the only women for quite a while. Luckily soon other women started trickling in. The music from a live band started playing and soon the women were up dancing in a circle, which is a regular occurrence at any gathering with more than 3 or 4 Ethiopians.

            At one point Jessie, Ally, and I were all pulled up to dance in the circle and I am fairly certain we are now on at least 50 men’s’ and boy’s camera phones. The thing about Tigrinya music and dancing is that the songs tend to all sound the same and they go on for a very long time. The dancing is all the same as well, with their shoulders moving in what looks like a simple way, but is actually extremely difficult. I cannot seem to move them back and forth like the Ethiopians, and so I tend to make a fool of myself. But, they love that I’m trying and laugh with me when I laugh at myself (actually, they are probably laughing at me, but I like to convince myself otherwise).

            We continued to sit there and people watch as more people came in and out. Another difference between American weddings and Ethiopian weddings—at American weddings there is a start type and at most weddings, ending time and you come at the beginning and generally stay for the whole time. In Ethiopia, you show up, eat, maybe stay and socialize, drink a cup of sewa or 2, and then leave. It is rare to stay for the whole thing, probably because it takes so long, you might not be that close to the bride and groom or family, and you are taking up room that could be used by someone else, since so many people are invited and need to be seated and fed.

            After awhile the groom arrived with the bridesmaids and grooms men. They came from the groom’s house celebration. I don’t know what goes on there. The groom was “escorted in” and cheered on along with the wedding party by some of the community members and family. It is like a parade around the tent as he is presented by his family and friends. Following him was the suitcases given as gifts to the bride by his family, open for all the guests to see what is being exchanged. This is a tradition, even among “modern Ethiopians”. Later in the ceremony more gifts and money between families were exchanged in front of the wedding guests and party by a priest.

After this presentation, I was called into my part of the compound to cheer with the family and close friends as the bride and groom made their procession from the bride’s house to the wedding tent. She came into her house to freshen up while the groom was being presented. Mahlet (the bride) looked absolutely beautiful in her princess dress, and her groom looked hip and handsome in his tux and Ray-Ban sunglasses. They had a parade again of themselves and her family to the main tent (through a doorway). They were seated on a platform along with their wedding party of tuxes and yellow bridesmaids dresses.

            At this point more food was brought out for the wedding party to eat and then some of the guests who were sitting in front. I was told to get food, and although I didn’t feel comfortable being pushed in front of others because I was the “firenji” (I lost my seat by Ally and Jessie when I went to join the family, so they were sitting separately), by the time I got up to the food it was all gone, which I felt relieved about to not have to be pressured to take food I didn’t want. However, I was asked if I like meat. When I said yes, a few men proceeded to give me a plate with 2 huge chicken breasts soaked in burbery and I ate them to be polite (they were very good and reminded me a little bit of home).

            At this point I had sat in about 4 different places in the tent, having been called to one place or another and losing my seat every time I tried to come back to sit. I was asked to move again as they were setting up the cake and fireworks, yup you read that correct. Jessie and Ally were tired and left to go take a walk and relax in my room. I felt obligated to stay longer though, since it was my compound wedding so I sat next to a couple from Mekele and talked with them for awhile, until I was asked to move. The bride and groom and bridal party got up and stood behind the cake. Much like an American wedding, there was a cutting of the cake and they fed a bite to each other with guests looking on. They also drank champagne and one of the groomsmen sprayed a bottle of champagne on the guests, another tradition that seems to be shared with America.

            They then lit sparklers that the bridal party held as a song played. That is harmless enough, however they also put what seemed to be almost firecrackers in front of the cake, and when they were lit and went off sparks spread far in the enclosed tent, hitting people especially the kids who were in front to see. In America that would be against about 30 fire codes, but here there is no such thing and luckily no one got hurt. The entire thing was being filmed by a professional photo and video crew, who ruined quite a few of my photos by having giant lights and video cameras in front of the bride and groom for most of the evening.

            In America there are a few traditional dances, mainly a “first dance” by the bride and groom, and a father-daughter dance, which is started by the bride and her father. Here however, their “first dance” is to a Tigrinya song where they dance like all the others with their bridal party. At this point I was exhausted, my phone was out of space with the amount of photos and videos I had taken, and it seemed like the party was winding down, so I excused myself to go back to my room. The bride and groom and bridal party stayed for a dance or two more, but then they left to go back to the groom’s house.

            Jessie was at the groom’s house for her wedding, so the music and party lasted until late in the evening/early in the morning (however you want to look at it). However, because I was at the bride’s house, the party itself was over by 8 or 9, luckily. The work to clean up started that evening and is still continuing days later.

            As I got to observe this wedding from the beginning to the end and I got to see the “behind the scenes” as well as observe as a guest, I have really come to appreciate how much work goes into these events and I’m a little impressed they run at all, because I’m so used to the organization that goes on in America. Here, everyone has a job, everyone has a role, everyone knows what it is, yet it doesn’t seem to be clearly communicated, it’s just known. Boys who I have never seen before pick up plates of food eaten, bring around extra injira, and bring around knitting soaked in water to wash hands. Men bring around sewa cups and pots to serve and fill up cups even if they are mostly full. Women serve food at banquet/potluck style tables when you first walk into the tent. The musicians play music for people to dance. The family and close family friends tend to stay in the back and the other side of the compound, eating, making sure things run in a semi-timely manner and greeting people as they walk in.

            Some guests wore jeans and high heel shoes (those are the “Addis” or “Mekele” people as we call them, those who look high fashioned and have an air that they are from a bigger city in Ethiopia), some wore skirts or less traditional dresses with shawls, and yet others wore nice, traditional dresses. Some were dresses you could they wear every day, where as others looked like they are pulled out for special occasions. My landladies and the rest of their family were dressed up very nicely in matching white traditional dresses with gold and red trimmings and big gold jewelry traditionally worn to show wealth. The men were dressed in tuxes and bowties, and the 2 little nieces were dressed in adorable white dresses that were like flower girls (they would have played that role had we been in America). Their hair was done in the Tigrinya bumps, although they had 7, which is only done for very special events (the “normal” is 3 or 4). It was an interesting mix of attendees, from the elders in the community, to teachers (my landlady is the librarian at my school), to the entire neighborhood, to the bride and grooms friends from Addis, Mekele, and Axum. Ally, Jessie, and I were also there, which tripled the “firenji count” from a normal wedding.

            Even though the wedding was on Sunday, the celebrations and gatherings comtinue. I went to Jessie’s site on Monday morning and got back today (I’m writing this Wednesday), and most of their family is still in my compound, and I had a hard time walking to my door earlier because the plates, cups, and tubs used for the wedding were all still in my compound. I am not sure where the bride and groom stay after the wedding and for how long (although in Jessie’s wedding the bride and groom are at Jessie’s compound, which is the groom’s family’s house). Mahlet is apparently going to Bahar Dar for their “honeymoon”. As I am writing this, there is currently another “onion chopping party” going on outside my door and I can hear chickens being killed, yet it’s 9pm the Wednesday after the wedding. The family of the bride is still staying at my house, and I am not really sure when they will head back to their own houses. So maybe the bride has another party this weekend.

            Although this wedding, and the others I have attended in Ethiopia are very different, I do enjoy them. Dancing Ethiopian style can be exhausting, I have a hard time when I have to sit next to men who are too drunk to even talk in proper Tigrinya, there can be so much food and sewa, it can be difficult when the Ethiopians expect you to know what to do, and it can get very claustrophobic, I still love to attend weddings. This one was a special one for me because my land family has become my surrogate family over here. They introduce me as their daughter when we go places, they are always there to give me buna, food, or a smile, they help me buy things at market, and they make sure I’m alright when I’m tired or sick. Mahlet is like my sister here and seeing her married to whom I hope is a great man was emotional for me. I was included as part of the family on this day, and I am forever grateful to them for everything they do for me every day here.

            I sometimes have difficult days in my service, this came at the end of the semester when I was fed up with the Ethiopian school system and was feeling extremely homesick, and the preparation for the celebration exhausted me just watching it and constantly having people in my compound, even though I didn’t do much. But seeing how the community and their family came together to prepare the food, the venue, and then serve the food, make sure it ran smoothly, and everything else I wasn’t even aware of is a prime example of how community based this culture is. Everyone has a role that they play, everyone knows what theirs is, and they do it willingly and with a smile, to help the person next to them.

            Sometimes we aren’t always told what is going on or why it is. As Volunteers our community doesn’t always realize they have to explain ceremonies or celebrations, traditions or cultural rules and expectations. We generally have to figure them out on our own. This wedding was no different, with lots of things happening I still don’t understand, and my role not explained. What I do know is that no matter what the wedding looked like, no matter how different it was from the comfort of an American wedding, it’s still celebrating love, commitment, and community, even if from the outside it looks much different.

The Kindness of Christmas

As I sit under a fuzzy blanket drinking a Starbucks peppermint mocha (it’s not the real thing, but it will do for over here) I am still nursing a pretty full stomach from yesterday’s Ethiopian Christmas festivities. I was expecting my year to be like last year, starting with sewa and dulat (intestines) at 8am. I was pleasantly surprised however, when that was not the case. I had a relaxing morning alone in my room and was beginning to worry that I would not in fact be fed at all (something that just doesn’t happen here). Alas though, my worry was premature, as around 9:30 I was called out of my room by the familiar “Kelsey, migbee mees buna” (Kelsey, food and coffee) voice of my landladies.

As I walked into their living room I was greeted by my landladies in all their smiles and kindness and my landladies son, visiting from a near by town in his surfboard style shorts, slogan style t-shirt, and flip flops. He looked like he could have walked off a California beach, and that made me smile for a reason I couldn’t explain to the Ethiopians around me. I was handed a plate of meat for breakfast and then quickly handed popcorn when my plate was clean. This year my land family put in more burbery (the seasoning most common here—not the high retail clothing brand). In case you were wondering, there is nothing more effective to clearing sinuses than a plate with a lot of burbery. Of course, breakfast was followed by a buna ceremony of 3 cups of coffee, however that is the norm for every day, not just holidays.

We talked for awhile about my teaching and students, how I am going to pay a compound girl to clean my house and laundry this weekend (this is only my 2^nd time in country to do this, but I’m getting desperate), but mainly about the wedding coming up. My landladies’ daughter, who I consider my sister, is getting married in 2 weekends and preparations have been happening in my compound for a month already. My land family has invited basically every PCV who has come by my compound and Jessie and I are planning to buy new traditional dresses for it. I was informed yesterday that I would be getting my hair done “special”… So I have a suspicion I might actually be in the wedding and just not know it yet. That conversation was halted however when neighbors started to knock on the gate to greet my family and wish them a “Sibuk Lidet” or a “Merry Christmas”.

I spent much of the day in my room, reading. I am currently reading my 118^th book in country, and decided to depress myself by reading “Angela’s Ashes”, a book that my dad recommended to me but I have always procrastinated because he told me how sad it was. I agree, it is sad, but also very good. If nothing else, it really makes me grateful for my own childhood. I was then inspired to write some letters home, so I listened to music while writing words of gratitude and love to family and friends back home. It was getting into afternoon and my friends were on their 2^nd or 3^rd plate of food, I had only had one. I was beginning to think I would only be given breakfast, but like the morning I thought too soon. I was quickly invited out to eat more. This time my plate was handed to me with more kaya wat, as well as dulat, and handed a cup of sewa. Now this was a typical holiday.

After finishing off the plate and cup, I retired back to my room to color the “grown up” coloring books I received in my latest care package that have become all the rage back in America. Anyone who makes fun of adults coloring should really try it, it’s quite soothing. I got a text from Ally who told me that, “the Koreans are on TV dancing at a televised party in Adwa!” Adwa (my school specifically) just received 2 Korean teachers who will be teaching HPE and Biology starting next semester, from the Korean version of Peace Corps. That’s a whole other blog and topic though… Apparently there was a party in Adwa that they ended up at, and they were on National TV dancing.

At this point I was feeling a bit like a volunteer failure. I have been in Adwa from a year and a half, and I was in my pj’s in my room coloring, while they have been in Adwa for a week and are already on TV. At that moment though I received a call from an unknown number. I don’t normally answer them, but I’m glad I did. It was one of my students’ fathers inviting me for dinner at their house. It was one of the students I took to Camp GLOW with me this summer, so he had my contact information. I wasn’t sure how to proceed, but decided to go ahead and accept the invitation. I met my student at the school and we took a bajaj to his house. I was told he lived in the village, however his house is just a short walk outside of town. (I am very glad we bajajed though!)

I walked into his compound and was greeted by his father, mother, grandmother, a neighborhood kids. They asked me if I wanted bread or injira, and I said “injira of course!” I was then handed a plate with tibs and dulat, a cup of sewa, and both were refilled twice by the time I left. His father lived in South Africa for 12 years, and between his almost perfect English, Amharic, Tigrinya, Arabic, and 4 languages from South Africa, he speaks 8 languages. Although he was a typical Ethiopian and asked me my age, religion, whether I have a boyfriend, and told me I got fat (he saw pictures of me from America when I was showing the neighborhood girls my phone), he was a very gracious host.

I was also pleasantly surprised to hear my student speak so much English. It was still very broken and not grammatically correct, mostly just vocabulary words strung together, but he was trying really hard and it reminded me a lot of my own Tigrinya ability and confidence. In class he rarely speaks, although he is always taking notes, so to see him in a setting he was comfortable in was nice, and he had the biggest smile on his face the whole time. I was asked if I like coffee and when I told them I do, the father automatically commanded the daughter (Endrias’s sister) to make buna for me. I felt bad, because I was not expecting that, but I also know that’s the culture here. We had 3 rounds of buna, with me having an extra few glasses because the other guest at the house didn’t want his.

My students’ sister is also a 10^th grader at the school, although she is a year older than Endrias. Although I don’t know the circumstances, I can guess that she was probably kept a year more at home to take care of Endrias when they were both little. Some of their family came in and out of the compound, and the little girls I was playing and making faces at left to their house. I was worried about being rude and excusing myself to get home before it was too late, but they called a bajaj and paid him before I was even done with my coffee. I was grateful for that. I felt like I might have over stayed my welcome, but I didn’t quite know how to just say “good-bye”, I normally am at others houses with my land ladies and they do that for me. I bajajed home and was safe and sound in my bed by 7:30 (although it gets dark around 6:30, so it always feels much later). I left my door open though and was called for more food and sewa at 8:30, so I was stuffed and exhausted and finally in bed with my door locked at 9:30pm.

My final Christmas count: 2 houses, 5 plates of food (3 included dulat), 7 cups of coffee, and 5 cups of sewa. I know other volunteers probably had more, but that’s enough for me. This is crazy to me that this was my “last Christmas in Ethiopia”. Because of their calendar, we celebrate every holiday twice, first the “American way”, second the “Ethiopian way”. That being said, this was my 4^th Christmas here. I have been pleasantly surprised that even though the holidays here are always celebrated with meat, coffee, sewa, and lots of people I have spent my holidays a little differently every time.

This year I had the opportunity to spend it with my land family, who has become my surrogate family here. However, I also had the opportunity to spend it with an invitation to a students’ house. On Wednesday as I was leaving school with my all my students (who showed up) I was invited to many houses, but since I have no idea where any of them live, and I live in such a big town where I won’t just run into them, I was not able to actually attend their parties. I was feeling a bit of a “failure” compared to some of my other volunteers who live in small towns and were invited to many houses. However, I have come to appreciate my own version of holidays that have become more of the norm for me.

Like in my other holiday blogs, I talk about how different holidays here are from back home. But in many ways, they are similar as well. You eat and drink more than you should or think you can, you greet everyone with a smile and a holiday greeting, you sometimes stay at home and people come to you, or you might travel to other houses, and no matter what you remember why you are celebrating. I have 2 more big religious holidays while in Ethiopia (Timket and Fasika), as well as many smaller religious and non-religious holidays. They are the reasons 2^nd semester is so short, with many days off. However, for me, this second Christmas marks the end of the holidays here and back home that made being away from home so difficult. I am almost to the end of my service here (well, I have 7ish months) and even though some days are still really hard, and some days that feels like an eternity, this holiday has really made me realize how close I am to the end, and how much I am going to miss this country, these people, and this experience.

A Memorable Year

Sitting with no power, under the cool evening air in my compound, listening to a very fast Tigrinya conversation between elderly Ethiopian women while smelling cooking onions and roasted coffee beans seems to be a perfect example of my past year. In 2014 I graduated college and joined/swore into Peace Corps. A year ago I wrote a blog about how 2014 was my biggest year of my life to date, with those 2 very big events. However, having 2015 under my belt, I am rethinking that statement. For Christmas/the holidays this year I sent out a Christmas card/picture. I never did that in the states (well, my family did for a few years, but it was a short lived tradition), but I decided this was a fun year to update friends and family on. Below is what I sent out through snail mail:

My entire 2015 was spent in Ethiopia, with the exception of the 20 days I spent visiting America. Here is a recap of my year from January 1, 2015- December 31, 2015:

-        35 weeks of teaching (well, about…)

-        2 midterms graded

-        2 finals graded

-        8 trips to Mekele

-        5 trips to Addis Ababa

-        3 sets of trainings attended

-        12 holidays celebrated (not counting the random saints holidays)

-        9 weddings attended

-        2 christenings attended

-        1 teacher party attended

-        2 “International Day” programs run: Malaria Awareness and Girls Day

-        1 Peace Corps camp facilitated (Camp GLOW)

-        3 American holiday programs led

-        1 visit from family

-        1 round trip plane trip back home

-        2 country concerts attended

-        Countless days full of Peace Corps friends and laughter

-        Countless struggles and hard times

-        Too many to count buna ceremonies, food invitations, and happy moments with Ethiopians

-        Too many to count letters, cards, and care packages from home

-        Uncountable memories, random moments, and learning experiences

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays from Ethiopia! Love, Kelsey

I started off the year by teaching my 3 classes of 9^th graders for their second semester. I then spent my summer with my dad and brother visiting Ethiopia, going home for a much-needed vacation to America, taking kids to a Peace Corps run Camp GLOW. My last part of the year has been teaching 4 classes of 10^th graders for their first semester (3 are my original classes from last year, with 1 class added from another teacher).

As most people know by now, Ethiopia runs on a different calendar of 11 months of 30 days and 1 month of 6 days with their New Year falling on our September 11. That makes translating dates really fun over here... (Sarcasm). I still follow the “firenji calendar” when planning things, but I have my planner and computer calendars marked with their dates for when I have to talk to Ethiopians.

I measure my time here through 4 different calendars—“The firenji calendar”, The Ethiopian calendar, how far into service I am, and the school calendar, each giving me a different view of my service. It’s January 30, 2015 in firenji calendar, Tahisas 20, 2008 in Ethiopian calendar, I’m almost 18 months into living in Ethiopia and a little more than 15 months at site, and I’m about a month away from having taught for a year and a half at school. That’s a lot to keep track of and a lot of things I can use to measure the days I have been here.

Although marking days on a calendar is effective in seeing how much time has passed/how much time I have left, I have come to realize that the days themselves and the numbers attached are not enough to show a year. This past year I have come to know and learn more about my students, attach myself to my land family more, reflected on my own life and belief and views, read a lot of books and watched a lot of TV shows and movies, met new people, become more frustrated than I ever thought was possible, thought about quitting and packing up many times, but brewed some tea and come to realize how much I am still learning about myself and the world.

2015 was a year that I can’t even begin to put into words. I have learned and experienced more than can ever be expressed, especially in a blog post. My life continues to develop, change, and grow and that includes myself and my personality. I am not the same person I was on this day last year, certainly not the person I was when I swore in as a PCV in 2014.

My 2016 promises to be an even greater and life-changing year. I have the opportunity to visit Spain (my first trip to Europe and only my 3^rd country to visit) in the beginning of the year. I have 1 more semester of teaching my students and conducting clubs (although the way this school system runs, I won’t be in the classroom that much). I find out about graduate schools (I applied to 2) and that will determine my next move after Peace Corps. The biggest part of 2016 though, will be heading back to the States sometime between July and September.

As I reflect on my 2015, I am thinking of all the moments that were strung together to make my year. I have spent time with Peace Corps friends, drank a lot of beer, spent a lot of time with the power out, twirled a bunch of kids, been called firenji more times than I can count, cried my eyes out until I didn’t know I had tears left, laughed with teachers and fellow Ethiopians, taken bus rides around Tigray, been to the post office to receive some great packages from America, taken some long plane rides, been told how inspirational I am, watched my students gain great confidence in the classroom and out of it, drank more buna than I ever thought I would, and realized just how much I have learned in such a short time. My time is spent in my Ethiopian world and my Peace Corps world, with experiences, moments, and memories made differently, but equally important to me and my life here.

Every time I log onto Facebook I am reminded how much my friends back home are growing up. It seems that every day I log on to more engagements, pregnancies, weddings, and births. People are graduating from college and graduate school, working “real jobs”, moving for Fulbright, buying dogs, houses, and cars and everything else that we as a culture consider growing up. When visiting home I saw this first hand. It is a strange experience to still be single, living on my own, and teaching ½ a day in Ethiopia while everyone else seems to be doing the “socially accepted” life track. I do want to have a family, settle down, and do all of that—but I’m not there yet. That may work for most of my friends and family, and I admire that. But that’s not for me. I’m loving that my life consists of power outages and rats (actually, those I could do without), walking home in a sea full of blue uniforms, buying vegetables at market on a Saturday morning, having to swerve in a bus to avoid donkeys, seeing kids run towards me with no pants on and a wheel made of metal, or stuffing myself after 4 houses on a holiday.

Although 2014 was a life-changer, 2015 was as well, and I’m sure 2016 will be as well. I mean, every year, every experience, every moment changes who you are, some just more than others. Although 2015 had it’s difficulties, it was truly a great one. I spent it with some great and amazing people, both at home, Peace Corps Volunteers, and Ethiopians. They have all helped shape my experience here and I appreciate every single second, even the most difficult ones, because they taught me lessons and helped me change for the better (I hope!) I can’t wait to see what this next year holds and how it will help shapes me as a person and my life ahead!

The Power Of A Greeting

When I teach in the morning shift, I get to school at about 7:45 as students are arriving around the same time. Classes start at 8am, but flag ceremony where all the students in the shift gather to hear announcements and watch the Ethiopian flag be raised to their national anthem begins at around 7:50. I normally stand to the side by my classrooms and watch the blue uniforms trickle, then pour in while my fellow teachers in their white coats stand beside me with sticks in their hands, rushing the students a little bit quicker to their lines in the compound.

I stand off to the side with a smile, reminded of how grateful I am to be teaching in the morning shift when it is still cool during the day, as opposed to the afternoon when the heat can be too much to bear with 70 teenage bodies in 1 small room. I am greeted by my students and others alike with anything from a simple hello, to an energetic “Hi teacher” or “Ms. Kelsey!!”. If other teachers are around me, the students become more shy and generally won’t say any words, but will look sideways at me with a nod of their head and I have come to accept that’s their way of saying hello to me without words.

The other day I was approached by a fellow English teacher who asked why I stood out there instead of standing with the other teachers in clumps at the other end of the courtyard. I replied that I like saying “Good morning” to my students. He asked if I talk to all of them or just my own, and I said, “I will greet whoever says hi to me first.” Then he said something that will stick with me. He told me that, “A greeting is a gift from God.” I asked him why and his reply was, “It is given for free, to everyone, and without expecting anything in return.”

I get a lot of “Hello’s” here on the street that I tend to ignore, because I assume they just want to talk to the firenji. However, after hearing that explanation I realized that maybe I am limiting myself and my experiencse here by simply walking past a greeting. I might not know much Tigrinya, but I know enough to greet people. I greet waitresses when they come to take my order, which always catches them off guard, because most Ethiopians just demand something right away. I greet my students when I walk into class and that signals to them that class is beginning. I greet my compound family when I leave my room in the morning or when I come in from running errands and I am reminded how lucky I am to be living in the house I am. I greet the little kids on the street and in my neighborhood with fist bumps, smiles, and twirls every time I see them.

My favorite greetings are the unconventional ones. The ones that are not simply a polite “Hello”, but one that leads into a conversation. One that reminds me there is kindness in people. One that gives me a smile from a child that I borrow and wear the rest of the day. There is a shop in town that I call the firenji mart, because it has a lot of foreign foods (including cheese!!). I have come to love the owner and her family. Recently a little girl has been there (I think it’s her grand daughter). I am fairly certain she has Down syndrome, but she is probably one of the cutest and sweetest toddlers I have ever met. Every time I walk into the store her face lights up, she gets the biggest smile on her face, and she runs over to me. We then make funny faces at each other while whoever is working the store that day rings me up. It’s become something of a routine, and it’s the best part of my day. That’s a greeting I love.

I fist bump kids on the street, but my high school students have seen me do it, and it’s now become a running joke with my high schoolers to fist bump me as we walk into class together. I have also started to receive more handshakes and shoulder bump greetings by my students, both in the school compound and on the street. I am amazed that my students not only acknowledge me, which is more than they do with their other teachers, but that they actually want to smile and laugh with me. Although this can make things difficult in class, because they don’t always listen to and respect me, it makes for a fun time when I’m on break or when I need a thing to remind me why I’m a teacher. Those fist bumps, handshakes, and greetings from my students and other kids make me smile. That’s a greeting I love.

In America we walk down the street without acknowledging each other. Our culture is a get from point A to point B. We use coffee to power our days, we drive cars way too fast and we don’t use our mouth to smile. Here in Ethiopia everything is much more care-free and slow. I still walk an American pace, which can drive me crazy when others don’t. My face and body are still in the mindset of getting from one place to another. But, I have learned to slow down a bit here and relax more. I have learned that greetings can take more than just “Hello” and when you see someone on the street it’s culture to actually stop and have a conversation. It might be different from what I am used to, and it can make for a much longer commute somewhere, but it also reminds me of one of the things I have loved about my service here—the sense of community.

A greeting here is not just a “Hello”. It shows the love, community, connection, and laughter that is shared amongst everyone and which I have been welcomed into. As Malala Yousaf, the brilliant young Pakistani girl says, “We human beings don’t realize how great God is. He has given us an extraordinary brain and a sensitive loving heart. He has blessed us with two lips to talk and express our feelings, two eyes which see a world of colours and beauty, two feet which walk on the road of life, two hands to work for us, a nose which smells the beauty of fragrance, and two ears to hear the words of love.” Greeting someone might seem insignificant, but as I was reminded by a fellow teacher, it’s one of the most powerful things given to us by God.

My Grown-Up Christmas List

Do you remember me? I sat upon your knee,

I wrote to you with childhood fantasies.

Well I’m all grown up now,

Can you still help somehow?

I’m not a child, but my heart still can dream.

So here’s my lifelong wish,

My grown-up Christmas list.

Not for myself, but for a world in need.

No more lives torn apart,

That wars would never start,

And time would all hearts.

Every man would have a friend,

That right would always win,

And love would never end.

This is my grown-up Christmas list.

What is this illusion called?

The innocence of youth,

Maybe only in that blind belief, can we ever find the truth.

No more lives torn apart,

That wars would never start,

And time would all hearts.

Every man would have a friend,

That right would always win,

And love would never end.

This is my grown-up Christmas list,

This is my only life-long wish,

This is my grown-up Christmas list.

I love Christmas music. I mean- I’m not the crazy, festive person who starts listening to it in October- I’m a believer in the day after Thanksgiving through New Years Day is when it’s an acceptable Christmas music time, but I do love it all the same. I have my favorites but my top 2 are “Believe” by Josh Groban and “Grown-Up Christmas List” by Michael Buble.

Part of why I enjoy them so much is they aren’t over done like every other Christmas song. It seems like there are the same 20 holiday songs that are on every single Christmas album, and every single even remotely popular singer puts out a holiday album. I am guilty of having quite a few of them, but that doesn’t make me find them any less annoying.

Christmas music these past 2 holiday seasons have held new meaning for me though. Normally I get annoyed with the music in the States because everywhere you go, every store, every restaurant, has it blaring (and it’s normally not the good ones). Here though, there is no Christmas music. I have been listening to the songs I have on my iPod in mini buses and on my computer in my room while grading and staring blankly at the walls (ha!). The songs make me feel just a little closer to home as I decorated my room with the few Christmas decorations I received in care packages last year. Missing Thanksgiving wasn’t too difficult for me, because my siblings were not at home either, so I didn’t feel like I was really missing a family holiday. However, my siblings are going home for Christmas, and I know seeing them altogether will probably make me homesick over here.

Luckily for me, I have that Christmas music to keep me going.

“Grown-Up Christmas List” always gives me goosebumps, because it’s less about Christmas and the holidays than it is about a wish for the world to just get along. I recently read books about the Congo wars and extremism after 9/11 (I know, I really know how to choose happy topics). Between those and then the recent world events from suicide attacks to mass shootings, from famine to refugee crises, I sometimes forget how people can even be good.

I have a lot of times over here that remind me how lucky I am to be living the life I lead, and how I really have nothing to complain about. I do have my difficult days, but they are nothing compared to most of the rest of the world, including my own community. This song reminds me that it’s not just big things like wars that make life difficult, but things as “small” as not having a friend to lean on, or having love end. I am lucky because not only am I living my dream and helping others, but I have lots of friends and family to lean on, my life is full of love (not romantic, but every other kind), and my life is put together.

As this holiday season approaches, I am forced to look at my own life and realize how many others have to face insurmountable odds to just survive. I had to explain to teachers at my school the other week that in America we do have mass shootings, hunger, poverty, homelessness, and sickness, because they were under the impression that it is a perfect place. It makes me sad to see how many people suffer at the hands of others. Sometimes when watching the news or hearing things I begin to lose faith in humanity. But then, I hear a heartwarming story or see something in my own life, and it reminds me that the entire world isn’t bad. There are more good people out there that want to help others than people that want to do harm, and that I can’t let a few bad apples ruin the entire batch. That can be difficult to do, especially when we live in a world that has so many problems.

But then I am reminded of quotes by 2 extraordinary people:

“I always knew that deep down in every human heart, there is mercy and generosity. No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite… Man’s goodness is a flame that can be hidden but never extinguished.”- Nelson Mandela

“Peace in every home, every street, every village, every country- this is my dream. Education for every boy and every girl in the world. To sit down on a chair and read my books with all my friends at school is my right. To see each and every human being with a smile of happiness is my wish”- Malala

They both faced difficulties I could never dream of, but they both still have the courage, passion, and love to face the world and realize that it could be something more. Being reminded that even people who have every reason to hate the world and other people are able to look beyond actions and words and see the true heart in people and humanity, that for me is the biggest inspiration this holiday season.

So as I sit here in my room in Ethiopia, fairly close to a disputed country border, surrounded by neighboring countries with issues from human rights to terrorism to famine, getting ready to go teach a class where many of my students go hungry, and some of my girls will be married soon, I am reminded just how lucky I feel as my own person.

As I listen to other Christmas songs I realize that most bring up children’s joy, and I began to think how children are a perfect example of how the world can be great. I love kids, so I have a more positive outlook on them than some people, but I think everyone can pretty much agree that happy children around the holidays make things much better. As Nelson Mandela so eloquently put it, hate is taught. I truly believe that. No one is born hating someone else- the hate in the world today is shown and taught to humans as they grow up.

This means that children who have grown up around love are going to have that in their life and outlook. Although holidays here are not the holidays I celebrate back home, the joy in children’s faces is the same. They amuse themselves with much less here. A tire, a piece of a wire, and a balloon will entertain children for days here, where as in the US it’s a much more commercialized society. That being said, I think the joy children get from the holidays is a reminder to myself to never lose that holiday spirit. When you believe in something magic, that helps you become happier. So as I look around at the children around me, and remember the kids I worked with back in the states, it evokes in me my childhood memories and spirit. And I am once again taken back to how it felt to be a child looking at twinkling lights, stars, wreaths, presents, and ornaments and how the joy I felt about the world would never leave me.

As I wrote in my Thanksgiving blog, for me the holidays are about so much more than wrapping paper, music, peppermint, snow, or even church services. When I see different things I am reminded of holidays growing up and home, especially bells, candles, and luminarias. You know you are from New Mexico when brown bags filled with sand is more of a holiday sign than anything else… The holidays for me hold family, friends, warmth, love, hope, and joy. Even when things are difficult here, when I’m struggling through something, or when I’m reminded of how messed up the world can be I listen to Christmas music and it warms me on the inside. And I am reminded that every day is a blessing- that the entire world isn’t bad, and that love will always win. And we all need to remember our childhood belief in the good in people and that there is some magic all around.

Thanksgiving Blessings

Thanksgiving: An annual national holiday marked by religious observances and a traditional meal including turkey. The holiday commemorates a harvest festival celebrated by the Pilgrims in 1621, and is held in the US on the fourth Thursday in November. [Oxford American Dictionary]

Like every holiday, Thanksgiving is celebrated as diversely as the families that make up America. Some people have a clam bake/sea food feast, while others celebrate with a backyard barbeque, while others celebrate with an “old-fashioned” turkey and stuffing feast. And just like the diversity of the celebrations, the meaning behind the holiday is unique to each person and family. Some like to consider it the beginning of the “holiday season” that begins with Thanksgiving and ends with New Years, some like to bring up the historical significance, but I think most think of Thanksgiving as a time for reflection of the past year, and spending time with friends and family.

My family was a “traditional” Thanksgiving family. Although the venue changed every year, I generally would spend my Thanksgiving’s at my grandparents houses, stuffing myself with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberries, sweet potato casserole, rolls, and at Grandma Hill’s house, the all important jellos. I almost always spent it with my grandparents, parents, siblings, and a various array of aunts, uncles, and cousins (whoever was able to make it to town). As we got older, we spent more of our time in different states, with significant others families, and on trips. The past few Thanksgivings I spent the mornings at a homeless shelter serving breakfast and in Chicago with my dad, brother, and Bruce Barber.

I have had a lot of memorable Thanksgivings, with good food and family warming my memories. Although I might not remember all the details of the day, I hold with me the feeling of happiness as I laugh with my Menefee/Thompson cousins at the “kids table” (we aren’t allowed to move up to the grown up table until we get married or have kids of our own, and no one has taken that next step yet) shoveling grandma’s jello in our mouths for more, and listening to my grandparents tell stories of years past around the Butterfield Thanksgiving table decorated with candles and leaves. This was of course after waking up to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade full of wonder at those giant balloons reminding me as a child that the sky’s the limit.

Last year was the first year that I spent Thanksgiving away from my parents and it was more difficult than I was expecting. I was still getting settled into site, and I had just received a new site mate. I was struggling to get into a groove at school and my community, and although I had made friends in my fellow volunteers, we were still in our “no travel outside of site for a night” rules, and so I was not able to take much comfort in them. However, with their help and the blessing of technology to connect with family back home, I made it through the holidays just a little bit stronger.

This year I have been at site for more than a year. I have gotten into a groove at school and at my house. I have made friends at site and I will be with my fellow group members for Thanksgiving, as we have a training the weekend of Thanksgiving. With all of these things, I am still feeling homesick over missing this holiday. 2 of my siblings are not living in New Mexico and they are not going home for Thanksgiving, making this the first Thanksgiving that my parents will spend with neither of their children. This might be a difficult holiday for all of us, as we adjust to the changes that naturally happen when people grow up. It helps me to know, however, that next Thanksgiving I will be back on US soil with my family.

As I deal with being away from home for another Thanksgiving, I am forcing myself to reflect on the many blessings I have in my life. Thanksgiving for me is a day to be thankful for everything in your life, no matter how small it may seem. Everyone has something to live for, even if you don’t always see it. Although you should be thankful everyday, it can be difficult to really remember that. Thanksgiving is a day to reflect on your own life, what has brought you to where you are, and to say an extra prayer of thanks for those things that help you along day to day.

I have had some difficult days over the past 17 months (Yup, I have been in Ethiopia for 17 months!) and there have been a lot of days where I don’t feel like I’m blessed at all. There are days where as us Peace Corps Volunteers say “Some days you just have to let Ethiopia win,” and I have had plenty of them. But, I have also had days where I never want to leave and my smile seems permanently engrained on my face. Where I remember those small moments mean the most.

Although I have lots to be thankful for, here are some of things that stand out to me as I count my blessings this Thanksgiving/Holiday season:

-       Hanging out with Peace Corps friends on American holidays

-       The post office, and receiving random cards and letters

-       When my Internet stick actually works, and Facetime to connect with my friends and family

-       My gobez students who pay attention in class and answer questions

-       Hot tea, fuzzy blankets, and my Kindle during rainstorms, especially when the power goes out

-       All the media on my hard drives, and the fact I can get new media from other volunteers

-       My land family who calls me their daughter, makes me feel at home, and cheers me up when I need it

-       My siblings

-       Playing volleyball and soccer with my fellow teachers and neighborhood kids

-       My neighborhood kids who welcome me home with smiles on top of the huge hill

-       My post office guys who stop me on the street to tell me I have mail

-       My own safety, both in my community and in the country I live in- the rest of the world might be unstable, but I feel content

-       The fact that I had the educational opportunities that I did, especially since I am a female

-       My absolutely incredible family, especially my parents, siblings, and grandparents!

-       My Chi Omega sisters who make me feel loved, appreciated, and supported and who encourage and inspire me everyday

-       My Peace Corps friends who pick me up when I’m feeling down and who help me when I’m going through things only they can understand

-       The support of my friends and family here and back home, all the time

-       The girls who come to my events and clubs, and who are wanting and willing to help other girls break through the gender roles this society has built for them

-       Music that helps me in whatever mood I’m in

-       The Peace Corps Kindle file that has given me more books to read than I will ever have time to, and my Kindle that lets me read books- everywhere, anytime

-       Time to read and enjoy the little things

-       Jebena buna, fresh injira, and hot sambusas

-       Well cooked Ethiopian food, especially tagamino, tibs, and special fuul

-       My students who make me laugh with their silly sayings, their own laughter, and their willingness to make a fool of themselves

-       The smile and laughter of an Ethiopian toddler as they play with something as simple as a wooden stick or a balloon for hours

-       Being welcomed into a house with open arms and a smiling face of someone you have never met

-       Getting to connect and talk to my parents almost every week

-       Care packages from friends and family with American food and happiness

-       The opportunities I have been afforded in this life

-       The fact that I live in a country where it’s totally normal for a 2.5 year old to be drinking sewa (an alcoholic beverage) at 8:30 at night

-       The chance that I had to go home and visit America, my friends, and family this summer

-       My fellow teachers who help explain things when I’m feeling frustrated with the education system

-       My own teachers in America who helped inspire me to love learning and have helped me grow as a person and teacher in the classroom and out of it

-       Random people on the street who step in when kids are following me yelling “money” or “firenji”

-       The Peace Corps Education team who works so hard to make sure things work out for us, and are most of our saviors here on a daily basis. Thanks Dan O, Zebib, Taye, and Ayu!

-       Coloring with my compound kids on a cool summer evening

-       Reading in my compound with the smell of buna around me in the evening

-       Getting my name called by every student in a school shift as I leave school with them after flag ceremony

-       My Counterpart who helps me in all my adventures and projects

-       The kids who run up to me just to get a fist bump or a twirl

-       Getting to hug my cousin after he got in an awful accident and we weren’t sure whether he would make it

-       Actually being called my name instead of “firenji”

-       Being invited to weddings by community members

-       A cold beer with Peace Corps friends

-       Cheese, when I have it

-       The waitresses at my favorite restaurants that know my order before I order it

-       The internet café guy who doesn’t charge me as much as he is supposed to

-       The kids who are willing to help me carry things home from the post office and market

-       My market ladies who I go to every week and give me the best food

-       Having the chance to shop at such a colorful market where I know exactly where my food is coming from

-       Business owners who greet me with a smile and a hand shake whenever I come in to buy food or eat a meal

-       The fact that I’m living in this really cool and awesome place and being given this amazing opportunity to learn and grow

-       Sunrises through the fog on Saturday mornings on the walk to special fuul

-       Sunsets in the evenings on cool walks through town

-       Getting safe and sound to your destination after a bus ride

-       Bus drivers who actually go the speed limit, don’t stop randomly, and get you to your destination in a timely yet safe manner

-       Redats who don’t over charge

-       Walking home with my students and getting to talk with them as friends instead of teacher and student

-       Having the opportunity to help my students, especially my girls grow and develop into amazing students and human beings

-       I know I have said this one already, but my INCREDIBLE AND AMAZING parents and siblings who have been there for me through it all and who I would not be doing this without them

As Thanksgiving comes and goes and the holidays approach, I hope that you will be able to count your blessings as well. Days may be difficult and times might seem bleak. As the news from around the world seems to just get more sad and depressing, it might seem like there is no light and that people stink. And yes, some of that is true. But I bet if you stop to look around, you have more to be thankful for than you will ever realize until you decide to pay attention to the good things. As I have been reminded many times recently, life really is short. You don’t know what day will be your last. So wake up every morning with a sense of greatness and go to bed with a sense of happiness. Hug your friends and family a little tighter this holiday season, tell them how appreciative you are of them, be grateful for all the things in your life that make you smile, and remember how great it is that you are able to keep on breathing.