Q: How many Ethiopians does it take to change a light bulb????
A: One very BRAVE Ethiopian!
I have been so fortunate to wind up living on a compound with a family that takes such great care of me. When I’m under the weather, they come knocking with a cup of steaming tea and slice of bread. When I don’t feel like traipsing to the market, they ask what I need and go for me. When an annoying and persistent Ethiopian guy follows me home (harmless, but annoying none the less), they shoe him away and wait to ensure that he’s truly on his way back to town. When I have to wake up at 5am and walk to town in the dark to catch the bus, one of them always accompanies me. When the sheets need washing (which is a difficult job when you’re hand washing and ringing them out), Aselef insists on doing the task for me. So why I worried about what would happen when my light bulb burned out is beyond me!
I should preface this by saying that I’m a fairly self-reliant person and the thought of having to ask for help to change a light bulb seemed ridiculous. But, no matter how I did the math, I couldn’t figure out a way to get my 5’9” body to safely reach a 15-foot ceiling. After 3 days of stumbling around in the dark, I realized that I had to ask for help. Help came in the form of my guard, Dawit, who didn’t seem phased by my request in the least. He fabricated a rickety ladder out of sticks, twine, and a little bit of leftover electrical wiring and nimbly scaled the rungs that were held together by a prayer. As I held my breath and prayed that we wouldn’t need to take a trip to the hospital, Dawit quickly brought light back into my hallway. He also shed a little light on why community is the thread that holds the fabric of Ethiopian life together. Things can be daunting here when resources are limited, but together, nothing is impossible.
A: One very BRAVE Ethiopian!
I have been so fortunate to wind up living on a compound with a family that takes such great care of me. When I’m under the weather, they come knocking with a cup of steaming tea and slice of bread. When I don’t feel like traipsing to the market, they ask what I need and go for me. When an annoying and persistent Ethiopian guy follows me home (harmless, but annoying none the less), they shoe him away and wait to ensure that he’s truly on his way back to town. When I have to wake up at 5am and walk to town in the dark to catch the bus, one of them always accompanies me. When the sheets need washing (which is a difficult job when you’re hand washing and ringing them out), Aselef insists on doing the task for me. So why I worried about what would happen when my light bulb burned out is beyond me!
I should preface this by saying that I’m a fairly self-reliant person and the thought of having to ask for help to change a light bulb seemed ridiculous. But, no matter how I did the math, I couldn’t figure out a way to get my 5’9” body to safely reach a 15-foot ceiling. After 3 days of stumbling around in the dark, I realized that I had to ask for help. Help came in the form of my guard, Dawit, who didn’t seem phased by my request in the least. He fabricated a rickety ladder out of sticks, twine, and a little bit of leftover electrical wiring and nimbly scaled the rungs that were held together by a prayer. As I held my breath and prayed that we wouldn’t need to take a trip to the hospital, Dawit quickly brought light back into my hallway. He also shed a little light on why community is the thread that holds the fabric of Ethiopian life together. Things can be daunting here when resources are limited, but together, nothing is impossible.
Dawit constructing the ladder
Dawit is a braver soul than I. You couldn’t have paid me money to scale that ladder!
