Creating with Mud

I never knew that mud had so many uses! This creation has taken weeks to complete and to tell you the truth it wasn't until just recently that I understood its purpose. This is called a "gota" and is created for the purpose of storing large quantities of grains (tef, corn, wheat, etc) after the harvest. Or in the case of my landlord's family…this is the time of year when prices are lower so they purchase large quantities now so to avoid the high cost during the summer months.

As you can see, the gota started out as a circular slab of mud and straw and gradually got taller, and Taller, and TALLER! What's amazing is that each of the rings is removable. As the grain is used, a ring is removed to enable easier access. Ingenious! And you thought making mud pies was for kids! Ha…not here!




Aselef begins



The base is completed




Almost done




All finished. This thing is massive!




This gota is filled with TEF…the grain used to make injera.



Hapti's cousin, Maron, stands in front of 2 of her family's gotas. What you can't see is that this room is filled with gotas…probably 7-8 of them!

Sick

It has been an interesting couple of weeks…to say the least! My friend Megan was in town for a conference and I decided to follow her back to Bahar Dar for a little R&R as it had been weeks since I had traveled further than my feet would carry me. We weren't in town but 3 hours when Megan became extremely ill. I'm just glad that we weren't on the bus and that I was there to help her. I'm also thankful that we have an excellent medical officer…even if all she could do was provide phone consultation.

After 6 hours of worsening symptoms, it was decided that I needed to get Megan to a clinic. It is a hassle to deal with urgent care in the States, but dealing with an urgent medical issue at 10pm in Ethiopia is on an entirely different scale. I was given the name of a clinic to take her to, but she was too weak and dehydrated to get there under her own power. Fortunately, friends in town were able to procure a taxi for us. We finally arrived at the clinic around 10:30pm and she was seen immediately.

Ultimately they decided to admit her for IV antibiotics and rehydration (for you health professionals out there…they believe that she had Shigella). The physician quickly realized that I wasn't about to leave Megan there by herself, and gave orders for a bed to be prepared for me as well. It was a long night…fortunately Megan slept, but I was on "nurse duty" so I only caught a few winks! At one point I had to go shake the real nurse awake as Megan's IV had run dry. No call system here! Despite the limited resources she did receive good care and felt almost human again by morning. She spent the next 3 days recuperating at a hotel before feeling strong enough to board the bus for home. It is no fun being sick here!

Dutch Oven Cooking

Did you know that you can create an "oven" with just a few basic supplies?? I was suspicious, but am now a believer. With a large pan, some sand, a kerosene burner (charcoal works, too!), empty tuna or tomato paste cans, and TIME one can create a pretty efficient oven. Megan was in town this week for a conference and so we tackled this experiment together. Chocolate chip cookies have never tasted better!

Chigir Alle!

There is a common phrase in Amharic that is seemingly said a thousand times per day…."Chigir Yellem". It means "no problem". The opposite of that is "chigir alle". I was working in my "kitchen" one day and went to shut the door when I noticed what I can only describe as a large anthill growing out of the wall. I went flying out of the house yelling "chigir alle" and got the response that I had hoped for….my landlady on the run.

I escorted her into the house to show her this "wall tumor" that had seemingly sprouted overnight. Her response, "chigir yellem"…but I would have to disagree. She proceeded to scrape the growth off of the wall with a dinner plate. Much to my horror, we discovered the wall to be full of bugs. Houses here are constructed with spindly logs and mud. Apparently mud serves as the primary food source for these bugs. Aselef, seemingly unaffected, proceeded to reach her hand into the deep, dark crevasses of the wall in an effort to evict these hungry critters. You couldn't have paid me to do that!

After she deemed the wall to be critter free, we then filled the cavity with ash, and re-mudded. Now I don't know about you, but I'm not aware that ash has insecticide properties. I suspect that they will be back. In the meantime, I've added a new item to my daily routine….wall patrol.

Photo Shoot

Oh…the joys of a digital camera! Hapti and Souwnet love having their picture taken. This photo shoot, including the props, was their idea. The bundle of grasses is an integral part of every bunna ceremony. It is spread on the ground/floor in front of the charcoal burner as decoration. The large clay jug is what is used to transport water. This is the "adult" version, but there are smaller ones that are used by the children. My compound is unusual in that we have an open well. When there is no running water, they are spared from having to walk to the local watering hole to fill this jug, but many people are not so fortunate. Imagine the weight of this vessel when it is filled to the brim with water. Now…picture it strapped to your back and walking with it. Ethiopians are strong people!

A Stone's Throw Away

It's amazing how much we are "creatures of habit". I am a fairly curious person, but I get stuck in a rut just like anyone else. I shop in the same little stores, I go to the same Internet shop even though I have choices, and I generally walk the same routes. There is something comforting about the predictable and the familiar.

So…I suspect that this is why it has taken me 5 weeks to realize that I have a "slice of heaven" a stone's throw from my backdoor. For some reason, I thought that there was nothing behind my house. It didn't seem to lead anywhere and I rarely saw people walk that way. But one day I needed bread and Hapti volunteered to go with me. We exited the compound…I turned right (my usual route) and he turned left. I'm glad I followed because what I found to the left was beautiful.

Not more than a minutes walk from my backdoor was a wide-open space bordered on one side by a sluggish little creek, decorated by a forest of spindly trees, and "day-camp" to hundreds of cattle and sheep. It turns out that my house is next to the community grazing grounds. I love to visit at dusk just as the sky turns a brilliant shade of violet and the herders come to escort their motley assortment of sheep and cattle home for the night. I'm so glad that I turned left today!

A note about the pictures: There are so many interesting people that I encounter that I would love to photograph. Their faces tell a story that cannot be told with words. More often than not, though, I hesitate to ask. The presence of a camera changes people. This man, however, approached me and kindly asked in Amharic if I would take his photo. He read my mind as I was dying to take his picture. He was precious. He asked if I would prefer his hat on or off and was so eager to see his image on my tiny little display. He did not "ham it up" for the camera and I feel that I succeeded in capturing his essence—a man who has a lifetime of experience, one who is humble, yet still proud and most important… resilient. On a side note…the stack that you see in the background is made of manure patties, which are shaped, laid in the sun to dry and used then for fuel.

Firsts

I have had so many "firsts" here. My first bunna ceremony, my first sheep slaughtering, my first solo bus trip…and the list could go on and on. Once in awhile it is fun to turn the tables and observe someone else experiencing a "first". This happens to be Abi's first banana!!! And you can see from the expression on his face that he is LOVIN' bananas. I had to snatch the peel away as he was just about to give that a try as well.

A few days after this, I found him with his face plastered against my front door. I opened my door and he asked me for something. I figured it was just his typical "2-year old nonsense" talk and set about to distract him. This pattern repeated itself for several days and eventually I asked one of the various Ethiopians that share my compound if they could understand what he was talking about. He repeatedly said something that sounded a bit like "booze." Turns out…he is a smart kid and I'm the dumb one. Mooz is the Amharic word for banana and I just couldn't make the link between "booze" and "mooz". I think I've created a monster…one with healthy habits!

Furniture Shopping….Ethiopian style

I went furniture shopping! Four months of living out of a suitcase and the lack of a dining room table and chairs has finally motivated me enough to take action. I consider furniture shopping to be a painful task in the States, but this was excruciating.

Keep in mind, there are no showrooms full of pre-made furniture. The concept of an Art Van like experience has not yet hit this part of Ethiopia. There is no store brimming with overly helpful salespeople who follow you around pointing out the various features of the new-fangled overstuffed chair, who trip over themselves while scrambling to get the perfect fabric swatch, or convince you that scotch-guarding and a 5 year protection plan is a must have. Instead you wade through the saw dust and around the rip saw (which happens to be running at the moment) to be shown really poor photos taken at a distance of furniture that this particular shop has made at some point in the past.

After experiencing this with Smith a month earlier, I decided to come prepared. I looked up pertinent Amharic words (shelf, drawer, wood, etc), drew up a nice sketch complete with dimensions (in meters nonetheless) of a kum satin (wardrobe) and a dining table with chairs. The only thing I forgot was the earplugs! Zeleke, my co-worker, and I then proceed to hit 6 different woodshops over the course of 2 ½ hours. We eventually settled on a woodworker who seemed to understand my design and was willing to give me a "habesha" price. I paid him half of the total cost upfront, crossed my fingers, warned him that I too was a furniture maker and knew quality from crap and was told to return in 2 weeks time.

I returned 2 weeks later and was pleasantly surprised to find that not only was the work completed on time, but the quality wasn't half bad. Ok…now back to the Art Van analogy. There is no nice little delivery truck just waiting to transport your shrink-wrapped, scotch-guarded purchases through nicely paved streets to one's home sometime between 8a and 2pm. Knowing that transportation was going to be a hassle, I decided to fortify myself with a macchiato and chocolate donut. I find that it is always best to be on a sugar-high when dealing with challenging things LIFE here. So…while sipping my macchiato and problem solving with my friend Eden (a PCV from a nearby town), the manager of the establishment overheard my quandary and offered to help. He sent me over to what I now refer to as the truck yard. For the outlandish price of 150birr, these men were more than willing to load up my paltry amount of furniture and drive it the 2km to my home. Ridiculous!

They were not willing to reduce their price and so I moved on to plan B…which at that point in time was not yet formed. I headed over to the woodshop and found the owner to be so helpful. Within 5 minutes time, he had found 4 men who were willing to walk the furniture to my place for a total of 20birr (a touch over 2 dollars). It took two trips to walk the furniture from one side of town to the other, but it arrived safe and sound, and nicely coated in a layer of Ethiopian dust and grime.

Theodors

I just love this picture and wanted to share it with you. I love my neighborhood and especially the kids. The kiddo in the striped shirt is one of my favorites. I can't escape my house without Theodors sounding out an alert that I am on the move. This picture captures Theodors and his older brother Wondisin running the family store that is positioned at the entrance to their compound. I love it when I catch Theodors sitting on this very short horizontal bench just outside of the compound, patiently waiting for his next customer. So young and yet already shouldering a great deal of responsibility.



Wondisin and Theodors

Exploring

It's comforting to know that one can escape from the hustle and bustle of town and find a little peace and quiet. This morning I awoke very early and was joined by Smith, Hapti, and Sintiyew (my landlady's daughter) on a journey that took us a little farther than we normally travel by foot. We headed south out of town and walked for an hour and half to find this little slice of heaven.

The views were breathtaking…as was the path that led down to an old Orthodox church. It was a bit challenging to enjoy the scenery while slipping and sliding down the skinny dirt trail. I was also slightly distracted by the lingering apprehension of how I was to make my way back out of the gorge—it was a bit steeper than I like. But…not to worry. It was possible (a PC line that gets said way too much and is now more of a joke than anything else)! When I eventually made it back up to the top, I was pleasantly surprised that Hapti had managed to snag us a free ride back to town. Fabulous! Our journey concluded with a stop at my landlord's "corst beyt" (breakfast house) for a spot of tea…just what one craves after hiking!



Young herders


Hapti and I



A birdseye view. The spot of blue is the roof of the orthodox church that we hiked down to see

the Corst Beyt…truly a hole in the wall

Home Alone

It's rare that I'm left alone on the compound. Even though I feel that things are pretty safe and secure here, my landlords and the others that reside on my compound are pretty protective of me. Anyways…one day I actually found myself to be "home alone". I was given the job of "zumbegna"---guard, or what I like to call "keeper of the compound." I was sitting in my house when the front gate swung open with a crash and in walked a herder dragging a lone sheep. My first thought, was…"wow, I'm not doing a very good job"---I had failed to lock the front gate. My second thought, close on the heels of the first thought, was "now what do I do?"

In my very broken Amharic, I tried to explain to him that my landlady was not present. He merely shrugged his shoulders, parked the sheep, and left. I haven't had a whole lot of experience with sheep during my farm-girl years, but I have learned a few things since moving to Ethiopia. The first is that sheep are the main source of meat and the second---a sheep knows when the end is near. Given that I was going to get nothing done due to the horrible racket that the sheep was making tied up to my back stoop, I decided to try to soothe it. I gave him some water and stale bread and then staged a photo shoot.

I was correct in assuming that the sheep's days were numbered, but I had no idea we were down to the final hour. My landlord came home for lunch, and proceeded to slaughter the sheep on my back stoop. He made a quick job of it and to give you an idea as to how routine this is…he didn't even change out of his work clothes! From that point, Hapti took over. The sheep was skinned, quartered, in a frying pan, and on my plate in less time than it takes to get through the McDonald's drive-through! The most amazing part is how much of the sheep is used. For those that are faint of heart, it will suffice to stay that very few parts go unused. I have a fairly strong stomach, but I made sure to point at parts that were going into the "food pile" that I would like advance warning as to when they are being served. I'm brave….but not that brave!