Meet Binni and Betti

Just thought you might like to meet two of the people who help to make this blog possible. Bineum and Betlihem run our favorite local internet shop. Needless to say I've gotten to know them very well--so much so that we are on a nickname basis. I'm "KB" and they are "Binni" and "Betti". So while I'm "patiently" waiting for the pics to upload, I'm spending time laughing and being silly with these two. Never a dull moment when I'm at the internet shop!

PLWHA Poultry Farm

The other day, Smith and I had the opportunity to visit the local PLWHA (People Living with HIV/AIDS) association's poultry "farm". This project serves as an income generating activity for this group. The association received a grant from UNAIDS and has used some of those funds to construct the building and buy 106 hens. From a financial standpoint, they've yet to see any return on their investment as the hens are not yet producing eggs, nor are they plump enough to sell. But…they are reaping other benefits. This group of people has a renewed sense of purpose. They have become contributing members of the community and are playing an active role in improving their own quality of life. How exciting!

Farenji Fever and the Fishbowl Effect

I draw an exorbitant amount of attention everywhere I go. Fortunately 99% of it is positive. When I approach a suk (shop) to purchase items I invariably run into people when I turn around, because unbeknownst to me a crowd has gathered (sometimes as large as 15-20 people) to see what the "farenji" is buying. As I walk down the very long, rocky, and steep hill to my home, I feel like a fish swimming upstream--the neighborhood kids are running at full-steam, toward me, with hands outstretched. They LOVE to shake hands and it's really cute when a little tyke walks up with right arm outstretched and left hand grasping his forearm to show his respect. I've also learned to budget an extra 10-15 minutes for my walk to town to account for the delay I experience as I am stopped repeatedly for enthusiastic greetings and well-wishes.

Coupled with "farenji fever" is the fishbowl phenomenon. People are not only interested in everything that I do, but they KNOW everything I do, they KNOW where to find me and they apparently KNOW me! On our second day in town, we were approached by a gentleman who said…"my friend told me that you bought bananas at the blue shop last night. Were they good?" Smith and I looked at each other and said…WOW! Last week I was again in the process of buying bananas (one of the few fruits that I can routinely get) in my new neighborhood when an older gentleman approached me and said in fairly good English…"are you Qwisten from the peace corPs? Do you know A. Anderson from Illinois? He sent me a letter and said you were coming." Needless to say, I do not know this A.Anderson, but word in the PC community does circulate quickly. Turns out that A.Anderson is a former PCV to Ethiopia and the gentleman standing in front of me was his student 40 some years ago. That a man in Somewhere, Illinois knows that I am here (my specific name was not mentioned in the letter), and that the man on the receiving end of this news can so easily find me and call me by name is such a weird feeling.

Today, I was at one of the schools that I will be working with. I had met the principal and assistant principal twice before, but I really hadn't had an opportunity to interact with the teaching staff. Anyways, I was sitting in the staff room and conversation was swirling around me. Since it was all in rapid Amharic I was tuned out. By the time I tuned back in I realized that I was the topic of conversation. They wanted to know why I didn't attend church with them on Genna because "we've been told you are Protestant." I was too stunned to respond, but thought to myself… "Really? And you are who?"

Fortunately some of the "farenji fever" is dying down as people get to know us and realize that we will be here for 2 years. It's also helpful that we can now respond in Amharic to the occasional cries of " you, you, you…give me money" with, "I'm not farenji, I'm Ethiopian." I suspect, however, that I should get used to the "fishbowl lifestyle" as that is not likely to die down. I have found a positive side to the fishbowl effect, though. When I'm behind on my journaling (as I generally am) I can say, "thank you, I had forgotten I'd gone to market on Thursday… eaten Ox tibs on Friday at the Paradise… picked up 3 letters and 2 packages at the posta beyt on Monday just before closing… had to stop and rest while walking the miserable hill out of the neighborhood on my way to meet Zeleke at the internet beyt on Wednesday…














My neighborhood fan club. Aren't they just the cutest?!?!

Welcome to My Home

Well, it is official…I AM NO LONGER HOMELESS! My home is beautiful…much more luxurious than I ever expected. The salon-beyt (living room) has 12-foot ceilings by my approximation and cheery yellow walls. I have a large bedroom, a spare room for when YOU come to visit, another room that serves as my "kitchen," and a bathroom INSIDE the home. The most amazing feature of my new home…RUNNING water! We have learned that water is an issue in our town, but primarily for those homes that are situated "up-hill". Fortunately, I am "down-hill" and consequently have dependable running water. Unfortunately, I must hike up a very steep and rocky dirt rode to get out of my neighborhood. Right now, my lungs are not too happy about this, but they will learn to DEAL.

I share a compound with my landlords, their house helper and her son, and one young guy who is attending preparatory school in town. Each day, however, I discover yet another person who shares our compound. I was here for about 4 days when I noticed an elevated bed that stands just inside our gate. Turns out that we have nighttime "guard" who uses that space. Today (my 8th day in the compound), while doing laundry, I realized that I was being watched by yet another new face. I asked him if he was a friend of the young guy that has a room out front. His response was "no, I live here." Sure enough, he does, in another of the many cubbyholes that we seem to have a surplus of.

NEWSFLASH…WHILE TYPING THIS POST IN MY SALON BEYT A VERY LARGE TOAD (THE SIZE OF A BASEBALL) JUST HOPPED BY ME! WHERE HE CAME FROM, I DO NOT KNOW. BUT…HE MUST GO. DO I PICK HIM UP? ARE THERE POISONOUS TOADS IN ETHIOPIA? I THINK I SHALL SCOOT HIM TO THE DOOR JUST IN CASE.

NEWSFLASH UPDATE…TOAD WAS MOST UNCOOPERATIVE. I WENT TO SCOOT HIM AND HE LEPT. I WAS EVENTUALLY ABLE TO SCOOP HIM INTO A BAG. I OPENED THE DOOR TO LET HIM GO WHEN A VOICE SPEAKS TO ME OUT OF THE DARKNESS. I FREAK…SCREAM…FLING THE TOAD…AND THEN DISCOVER IT IS THE MAN IN THE ELEVATED BED. GOOD THING THAT I AT LEAST LEARNED OF HIS EXISTENCE OR THIS MAY HAVE BEEN TRAUMATIC!

Ok…back to my house. It is indeed fabulous and I feel spoiled. My landlords are nice, but it sure will be helpful when I can communicate with them. In the meantime, I try my best by using "2-year old" Amharic and pantomime. And if they still don't understand me, I shrug my shoulders and add yet another thing to the growing list of words, phrases, expressions that I need to learn from my language tutor.

Hank…the Genna Chicken

I would like to introduce you to Hank…our Genna (Christmas) chicken. Hank has made himself quite a home over the past few weeks. He can often be found investigating Zebanay's kitchen or entering through Smith's backdoor, cruising through the living room and if nothing peeks his interest he will eventually exit out the front door. Initially we tried to keep him out of the house, but it proved to be more work than it was worth. Hank's days are numbered so we've decided to be lenient with him and how is a chicken any different than a cat, or a dog, or a mouse?

Fast forward a few days….Hank did indeed become Genna dinner and I must say he was the best tasting chicken we've had since being in Ethiopia. Perhaps it was because we treated him so well! He made a fantastic doro wat (spicy chicken stew), but we were a bit perplexed when we scooped an egg out of the wat as well. Now how does that work????



Meet Hank our Genna Chicken





Hank makes himself at home




Hank cruises through the living room



Hank as dinner

Visiting Bahir Dar

Along the shore of Lake Tana....Ethiopia's largest lake.




Welcome to the tropics!




I just love these trees!


Yes, it is a touristy town but the real Ethiopia can be found here as well. Don't ya just love this "chicken man"?




Celebrating the tastes of home



Anna and I are likely to make ourselves sick consuming all this food, but it's worth the risk!


Part of my role as a Peace Corps volunteer is to teach Americans about Ethiopia—its culture, people, and land. I'm going to try to bring this part of the world to you so that when I return you're as familiar with all things Ethiopian as I am. I anticipate getting to see a great deal of Ethiopia as I travel for work, training, and to visit fellow volunteers. I hope to capture the essence of this country not only through my written description, but also through photography. So sit back, get comfortable, and journey with me to Bahir Dar.

Bahir Dar can be found in the Amhara region (think North) and is situated on the southern end of Lake Tana. Lake Tana is Ethiopia's largest lake and the source of the Blue Nile River. Compared to my town, Bahir Dar has a very tropical ambiance complete with beautiful palm-lined streets and a hot and sticky climate. Although there are many sights to see in Bahir Dar, I saw no point in running myself ragged trying to see it all on the first trip. I suspect that I will be here many times over the course of the next 2 years and so decided to save the monasteries, the outlet for the Blue Nile, and the Blue Nile Falls for another day.

Instead, I wandered the town, shopped in the large "gebaya" (market), and spent a considerably amount of time sitting lakeside and watching the antics of the local flock of very pesky pelicans. I also kept an eye peeled for the small pods of hippos that linger in the shallows of Lake Tana. Most people that we spoke with indicated that there are so few hippos that our chance of seeing one was slim to none. But…my persistence (and perhaps laziness—we sat there for hours) was eventually rewarded with a hippo sighting. Unfortunately, this one chose to make himself known at dusk and a bit too far from shore to capture a great shot, but it was most definitely a very large and wild hippo. They are such unique creatures and it was an amazing experience to see one in the wild as opposed to lumbering around the pen at a zoo.

Tourist Note #1—Know that you will be charged (and issued a receipt) for any pictures taken while sitting at the lakeside viewing deck. Being the frugal PCVs that we are, one person paid and will be sharing pictures with the rest of us. This is why I don't have any pelican pictures to share with you right now!

Our journey to Bahir Dar occurred on the weekend between Christmas and New Years. Ten of us gathered together and celebrated by fixing a feast of all the American foods that we had been sent in care packages. We had macaroni and cheese, canned ham (think Spam, but one notch up), instant mashed potatoes, stovetop stuffing, canned cranberries, and fried chicken. This chicken, however, didn't come in a nicely frozen package, but was still squawking when it arrived at the house. I missed the "preparation" part of the process, but I think it is safe to say that we all agreed that it was perhaps a bit more work than it was worth! When I left there was still a discussion as to what to do with the assortment of feathers and parts! J

All good things must come to an end and so after a long and fabulous weekend we packed up and all headed our separate ways back to site. Bahir Dar is a beautiful town and I can't wait until my next visit.

House Hunting--Ethiopian Style

As the daughter of a realtor and a former homeowner, I feel like I have a fairly good understanding of the typical real estate process. You contact a realtor who searches MLS or you drive a desirable neighborhood looking for "FOR SALE" signs. In Ethiopia, it is far from typical and unlike anything I've ever seen. I knew that when I came to visit my site in early December that housing was not yet secured for me. Peace Corps had secured housing for 1 volunteer, but not 2. Smith was given the first house and I was told to wait. My counterparts were very concerned about this as they know how important privacy and personal space is for most Americans. They took it upon themselves to begin looking for housing for me. I'm actually glad that I've been without a home for 3 weeks because the house-hunting process is something I wouldn't have wanted to miss!

So…let me begin by explaining that there are no "FOR SALE" or "FOR RENT" signs. The process begins by walking the town and telling everybody and his brother that you need a house. Then, you wait. A day passes by, and you are again walking when a man leaps off a shoeshine stand and says, "come, I have house". You go immediately, with co-workers, to see said house. Much gesturing and rapid discussion in Amharic ensues and you never get beyond the gate of the compound. Apparently something wasn't right with that one, but no explanation is provided.

Another day passes, and co-worker receives a phone call. We drop everything and walk across town to see the next house. By my novice assessment of Ethiopian housing and the fact that I get "cat-calls" and "hey, honey-ed" when approaching the house, I'm thinking that this isn't a good one. Fortunately, my co-workers are in agreement.

Another day goes by, and while at the internet shop, my co-worker and I are approached by a new man with yet another house to see. This one appears very nice and is in a good location, but it's not exactly for rent…yet. The current renters aren't aware that the landlord has decided to show the house to me. I suspect that that will be a problem. Sure enough, it is. Nice house, nice location, but in the end…not for rent.

Site visit week comes to an end and I'm still homeless. I return to town in mid-December, and am told to "coy" (wait) and to bunk with Smith. Fortunately she is a gracious host and doesn't mind the company. PC staff (Tella and Meskerem) comes to town the last week of December to secure my housing. The process starts over, but this time I'm not included because unfortunately my presence makes obtaining a reasonable rent impossible. Day 1, only one semi-suitable house is found. I'm asked to come see it, but it just doesn't feel right. It's a long way from anything, next to a mechanics shop, and nobody else lives on the compound. Tella agrees with my assessment, but is worried that that may be my only option.

Day 2 arrives and I receive a call that a house has been found. I'm driven across town to what will become my new house. I meet the landlady (who speaks no English), roam the house, discover that the owners will be moving into the servants quarters so that the main house will be available to me, sign the lease (which only consists of the agreed upon monthly rent and a clause allowing me to break said lease with a 30 day notice) and am told that I can move in Tuesday…it is currently Friday. The house is filled with their things and there are renters currently living in the servant's quarters, but I'm told, "not to worry". I've found that it's best just to go with the flow…and therefore I shall not worry! I'm just hoping that "housing hunting Ethiopian style" is a one-time experience for me!! Time will tell.

Waxing Poetic

Herders with their flock





Finally, a man with eggs!





Wide Open Spaces





There is always time for Bunna!







As many of you know, I'm a "country-girl" at heart. I love wide-open spaces, breath-taking scenery, the smell of a freshly cut field of hay, and any and all animals. When I received my site assignment, I was initially disappointed to be placed in such a large city. Now that I have been here for a month, I can say that I have the best of both worlds. I have access to many amenities (like internet and cellular network) that are not available in the more rural villages and yet I can walk 15 minutes outside of town and quickly escape the hustle and bustle. Here is an excerpt from my journal on a day that words just seemed to flow from my pen. Hopefully it will paint a vivid picture of the 2 worlds that I live in.

…today we made plans to explore what lies opposite the hub of town with Zebenay…Smith's landlady. The asphalt ends abruptly as we pass the last of the 3 colleges in town. As the asphalt fades away, so does the busy world in which I have been living. Barefoot woman laden with heavy water jugs stop in their tracks to unabashedly stare at the "farenji" who have wandered off the beaten path. No longer can you smell the fumes of the oil-burning trucks or the buzz of the bajaj. Instead the bleating of goats/sheep and the laughter of the 3 herders who are amused to find themselves the target of my photo-op have replaced the raucous city sounds. We walk through a small village and call out "encalal alle" to everyone who passes by. Eventually, one farmer on his way to market responds to our inquiry with "awo" and pauses to sell the cache of 6 eggs that he has carefully transported in a bag filled with straw. As soon as the transaction is complete, we pass the fragile bag to a little girl of 5 or 6 who has been instructed to keep them safe until our return. As we walk it is all too apparent that this is harvest time. A man stands in a big pile of cut wheat, or perhaps it is tef, and uses a pitchfork to throw the shafts high into the air to dry. We round a bend, enter a cove of spindly trees and discover an old Orthodox church. At first glance it appears to be forgotten, but as we sit and soak in the silence others who pay us no attention and proceed with their daily ritual of prayer and meditation join us. It is so quiet that one can hear individual leaves being caressed by the wind. It is hard to tear myself away…to willingly return to the hustle and bustle of town—a town that feels like any other. I realize now that this is what I had hoped for. In my mind's eye this space is what I pictured Ethiopia to be. I may not live and breathe this space everyday, but it is here. This is the Ethiopia I have needed to see and it has been found. On our return, we again pass through the same small village and are invited to participate in a bunna ceremony with Zebenay's sister. This is not to be a short stay considering that we are starting at step one…bean washing. We proceed through bean washing, roasting, and grinding. I have plenty of time to admire the intricately woven patterns on the yarn and wicker containers that she has made. Somehow I am able to communicate that I want to learn this art. She seems pleased by my interest and is eager to teach. After 3 cups of bunna and a little injera we resume our walk along a stretch of road that bridges rural Ethiopia with urban Ethiopia and old ways with new. I hope to live somewhere in the middle. I suspect that my feet will become quite familiar with this rough, rocky route.

It's off to Work I go…

Ato Zeleke (Ato is Amharic for Mister)




Ato Muluken




My Office











I thought you might like to meet my counterparts and see my office. I have been assigned to WORLD LEARNING and will be working with at least 3 schools in my town. WORLD LEARNING is an international NGO and I'm sure they have a web site if you're interested in more information. My role entails addressing the unique issues related to orphans and vulnerable children with regard to health, school attendance, early marriage, income generating activities, nutritition, etc. I still haven't a clue as to what that means on a daily basis, but I am excited to be out of the hospital environment for a change and working with children. I will share more as I learn more.

My counterparts thus far have been great…very kind, very attentive, very helpful, and very FUNNY! Ato Muluken is professional, business-like, efficient, has high expectations of himself and others, and has a can-do attitude. His consistent response to my many questions is "it is possible". Ato Zeleke acts like a favorite, zany Uncle…he's got this great raspy voice, greets anyone and everyone as we pass by, and instructs everyone that he introduces me to in the following: 1) Don't TOUCH Her, 2) stand at a distance when speaking with her (this is said while he draws an imaginary personal bubble around me), and most important 3) She demands RESPECTION! I just love point #3---makes me laugh everytime he says it! You may wonder about the origin of the above 3 points. One of the returned PCVs spoke at the event when counterparts were introduced to their respective volunteers with the intent of sharing American culture (i.e. the do's and don't related to personal space, professionalism among colleagues, privacy, etc). My guys took this very seriously as evidence by their copious notes and consistent dialogue when introducing us around town. It was so challenging to contain my laughter when we got to the above 3 points while meeting with the police inspector, county prosecuter, hospital administrator, etc. Gotta love it!

The Blue Nile Gorge

The Long Road to Home

Patience is a virtue, right?





If we can control nothing else, at least we can control whether we choose to smile or cry (Liz, Me, Straw, and Anna)




Chris taking the bull by the horns and demonstrating a little of that can-do attitude.



Megan fills the downtime by giving Nicole a last minute trim.














So I thought that the initial bus trip to my new hometown was a fluke and therefore I spared you the details following the departure from the bus station. I am here to tell you that the events that unfolded on that first trip were not an anomaly, but appear to be routine. So kick back in your comfortable desk chair and join me on what will inevitably be one of the more excrutiating aspects of my new life.

4:40: Alarm sounds and I bound out of bed because I now know that this will truly be the last hot shower for at least 3 months until our return to Addis for Inservice Training.

5:15: Enter lobby of the hotel ready to go. This time PC has decided to contract buses for us as the events of the first journey to site were painful not only for us, but for PC staff as well! (contract means that we avoid the bus station and PCVs are the only passengers)

5:30: Buses are present, but nobody seems to be doing anything. We should be departing now, but NOTHING is happening. I'm starting to realize my mistake of being on time.

6:00: PC staff decide that we should grab breakfast while they determine what the delay is.

6:30: I return from breakfast to find all of our stuff sitting exactly where we left it. The drivers stand huddled in groups, apparently content to just watch us as we watch them.

6:50: This is ridiculous. Looks like we made need to light a fire. Chris (PCV friend) climbs onto the roof of the nearest bus and begins to do the loading. This, and the threat of no payment from our fabulous PC training director, seem to be the necessary impetus to get the drivers moving. Slowly our possessions begin to make their way onto the bus for the long journey north.

7:40: Last piece of luggage is loaded as the final round of hugs is completed. For many of us, it will be 3 months before we see each other again! Bus pulls out of the hotel and we are off.

7:53: Bus stops…driver disembarks. We sit, wait, and wonder.

8:00: Back on the road

8:05: Wrong turn. Bus performs a 180-degree turn in the middle of traffic.

8:15: Police Stop #1 –security checkpoint.

8:19: Bus sideswipes a donkey. You can hear fur on metal contact. Donkey appears to be dazed and confused, but still standing.

8:45: Music incident. Driver blares traditional Ethiopian music—it's way too early for this! We use the universal symbol of a thumb pointed downward to kindly indicate that he dial it down a bit. Apparently, the symbol is not so universal--volume increases. Hearing loss ensues.

9:40: Police Stop #2--Bus is pulled over by traffic cop. Apparently "click it or ticket" applies here as well. Money exchanges hands and we are on our way.

9:42: Police Stop #3—Pulled over again. Reason unknown.

10:27: Police Stop #4--Reason unknown

10:58: Police Stop #5 –Reason unknown

11:16: Police Stop #6—I'm not sure if I should be comforted or concerned with regard to the number of police stops that we have encountered. One thing I do know…we are NEVER going to get there!

11:27: Here we are at the Blue Nile Gorge. My favorite part of the journey! Ok…for those of you who can't read my sarcasm in between the lines…this is the most painful part of the journey. The gorge itself is stunningly beautiful. The road through it is not. The Blue Nile Gorge is the equivalent of the Grand Canyon---I'm NOT joking. The difference is that this one has a road through it. The road was built by the Italians and one guidebook that I read uses the phrases "one of the most chilling roads" and "awesome feat of engineering" to describe it. I would concur. It is 30km of bone jarring, jaw dropping, stomach heaving road. I do not relish the thought of passing this way again anytime soon!

11:49: Violent bump results in a friend's bloody nose as her head smacks the seat in front of her. Fortunately we are prepared with our "Burdett in a Bag" (Burdett is our fabulous medial officer) and she is able to staunch the flow of blood before the onset of anemia.

12:24: We finally reach the base of the gorge. On the previous journey I asked an Ethiopian passenger why a new bridge was being built. His response, "the one we must travel across is cracking." Too much information! This is when I believe that ignorance is bliss. We wait while the bus in front of us crosses---only one at a time, because…it's cracking! I hope that our bus is not the "tipping point"!

13:10: Bus tips violently in unstable gravel. A tingle of fear hits the base of my spine. I pray. Wheels finally find purchase on stable ground and my heart begins beating once again…just a bit faster this time.

13:20: We are finally out of the gorge! 18 miles in 2 hours!! Not a land record, but we have survived without too much physical or mental trauma.

13:50: We arrive in the next small town and stop for a break. We grab a bite to eat, use the shint beyt (bathroom) and drop off our first PCV. Bye Eden!

14:40: Back on the road.

14:45: Police Stop #7

15:26: Police Stop #8. This time there's a twist…the officers board the bus and ride with us.

15:36: Police Stop #9. Our officers leave us.

16:00: Home at last! I don't plan on leaving town for a good long while for no other reason then I can't endure this bus trip until my memory of the journey fades and feeling returns to my bum.



I have finally arrived….11 Hours and 20 minutes since my day began, and 8 hours after boarding the bus. Anyone interested in coming to visit???? I'll leave the light on…or perhaps the candle burning for you!

Diary Cow Dines in Dumpster

I just had to share these pics with all of you! We were in the middle of Addis (a city of more than 3 million people) and on our way to Kaldi's Koffee when I stumbled upon this very large and obviously extremely hungry, or perhaps bored, dairy cow. This is not a site that one sees everyday and I couldn't resist capturing the moment. She was so busy munching on the contents of this dumpster that my presence went completely unnoticed. Due to her proximity to Kaldi's Koffee, I can only assume that she was "on-call" in the event of a milk shortage.

SWEARING IN

Megan & I with Director Tschetter and his wife Nancy.




Christen S. and Me (we will be living in the same town)




Me and my original language teacher Esey. She is wearing traditional Habesha clothing.









For the past 10 weeks, I haven't been a PCV, but rather a Peace Corps trainee. That changed Thursday (Dec 13) when I was sworn in on the lawn of the Ambassador's residence in Addis. What a fun day! The World Wide PC Director (Ron Tschetter) flew in for the event (which is not the norm). He and his wife, Nancy, are former PCVs to India (in the 60s) and are so interesting to talk with. In addition to the 42 of us, there were approximately 200 other guests present for the ceremony including the Ethiopian Minister of Health, the US Ambassador to the African Union, US Ambassador to Ethiopia, former PCVs, a slew of US Embassy and NGO staff, and the national as well as international press. We have been told since day 1 that PC's return to Ethiopia was a big deal, but this event really made it feel like a big deal. After a reception on the lawn (the PC volunteers could be found hovering around the food table the entire evening---we hadn't seen white meat chicken in 2 months!), we had a private tour of the Ambassador's residence. Ambassador Yamamoto is such a gracious and kind host and has invited us all back for dinner in the next few months. I can't wait!

Leaving a Legacy

Barakat is wearing the white cap.


There is so much talk when we gather as a group for training, about the impact that Peace Corps has on the host country nationals as well as on the volunteer. I can't tell you how many times we've heard the phrase…"you may never know the impact that you may have". I just want to assure you that I've left a legacy…made an impact…my work is done and I've booked my flight home! (Ok..just kidding). I never dreamed that a game of Skip-bo would be such a hit. I initially pulled it out of the suitcase for survival. My Amharic was so limited and I couldn't bear another evening of sitting in silence while the family chatter swirled around me.

Games are great (especially simple ones like Skip-bo) because you generally don't need a lot of language skills to demonstrate how to play. Anyways…Barakat (age 13) was a quick study. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he LOVES the game. I, however, burned out quickly when 1-2 games per night was routine rather than exception. I would come home from class, go to my room, and within minutes there would be a knock and simultaneous opening of the door (I was never successful in teaching him to pause following the knock!) and then the bartering would begin regarding the number of games to be played, the number of cards in the skip-bo stack (important because if you play by the rules and put 30 in the pile, the game is never-ending), and the time when game night would commence.

Ethiopians are very skillful with bargaining and Barakat was no exception! Anyways…before training ended I decided to "gift" him with the deck of Skip-bo cards because he loved the game and, well, I no longer do! He was so excited when I passed the game to him and called him "bale carte"—game owner. I wondered, however, how much the cards would get used as his older sister is busy and his Mom was never really interested in playing. I shouldn't have worried. I woke up one Sunday morning to hear quiet little voices in the living room. I pulled open the door and found Barakat patiently instructing his friend on the intracacies of Skip-bo. I even had to laugh when I realized he was teaching him by playing an open hand….just how I taught him 9 short weeks ago. I have left a legacy!