Just One of The Crew 7 December 2015

I follow the teal stream heading out of town. Students are serious as they head towards their first mid-exams of the school year, but they are still able to joke. I wonder if they are relieved to not have to carry exercise books to school today. Three male, 9th grade students wait to walk for me. They seek assurance that the English test on Wednesday (potentially Thursday) isn’t too hard. We joke around before Meles, a math teacher, suddenly materializes behind us and we separate into teachers and students.

The paved walk to school is beautiful and relaxed as we cover all sorts of topics from universities to traveling to Tigrigna. “Cali-po-lo-tus” is what locals call the eucalyptus trees lining the walk, a left over from the brief Italian occupation. An older man starts talking around me to Meles asking what I am doing here and why? While I understand, I let Meles explain that I am a volunteer English teacher at the school. The man keeps talking, and I finally laugh and explain myself to him, which shocks him that I know Tigrigna.

Once we get to school the grade 10 students are flooding out of the gates as the 9^th grade ones wait to go in and start their exams. To prevent cheating between shifts of students, this week tests and shifts are segregated by grade. Many call out my name and ask me how I am. I catch up with many and try to find my former students to check how they are feeling about exams, before heading to the staff lounge.

Just as the outside of the school is busy, the staff lounge is a loud buzz. Teachers I haven’t seen in a while are excited to see me again. Others make the weekend break seem like a month has separated us. While I’m not needed to proctor any of the tests, I still come to help, and hang with my buddies. I’ve barely put away my bag when Gebre Selassie, a brilliant history teacher who is also completely blind, asks if I would please help him grade a section of his grade 10 exams. I quickly get my red pen and start marking. Once finished I go into the main office to hang with Letish, the secretary, and Meles while making copies for the next day’s exams. Teklay, one of the Vice Directors, comes in after we are finished and whisks me to the small café on campus. It’s part of the budget to give all teachers tea and fuul, a hot breakfast dish, while working. We share two as they come off hot right after each other.

There are still exams going on so I pull out some dry erase makers and page protected paper for Winner, the three year old shadow, and myself to color on. Soon exams are done and all teachers and students make the walk back to town for a Christening… at least the party part of the celebrations. In the swarms of students there are also a large group of teachers meandering back on the dirt paths to the celebration.

Walking into the tarp covered area single filed with the other teachers I realize how common and accepted this has become. When I first went to events with teachers, mostly male, I was spotted out as being the foreingi. Now, people know my name and recognize that I just one of the crew of teachers that goes everywhere. Sitting on the familiar green benches propped on small sawhorses between Meles and Hagos, a Geography teacher, I couldn’t help but smile. There were other people in the small area; however, they were mixed between the 40 some teachers and staff from Hakfen Secondary School. Mesfin, an English teacher, made sure I got plenty of hilbet, shiro, and silsi when the pots were passed around. Meles made sure that I understood that the new dish was called “timitimo” and had it spelt correctly on my hand in fidel. I didn’t even have to deny a sewa cup as everyone knows I don’t drink. Instead Hagos made sure I got some water instead.

Even though I eat slower, we had all finished before the music started going. There is an American song that’s titled “Why Don’t We Just Dance?” Ethiopians never ask this question. They just do. As soon as the music comes they start to sway and will even shoulder dance in their seats before enough of them get up and join. I used to be intimated or scared. Now, I waited long enough for Kadra to finish her plate before joining the circle of teachers dancing.

After a couple more songs we stated to bail in shifts of teachers, similar to the ones we had come in. Teklay and I got away from a group of about 7 (including Gebre Selassie, Meles, Hagos and others), and headed to find some tea. We all ended up going to the same place and joked that Selekleka isn’t a very large town. After asking what a piece of cardboard with bottle tops was, Teklay and Meles taught me how to play Ethiopian checkers called Dama. One person played labels down and the other had them showing. The rules are different and too complicated to explain here, but I was still able to beat Meles before losing to Teklay. Mulaw, a Health and Physical Education teacher, and Haile came over to really show me that I have years to catch on. Jemal, a new Tigrigna teacher, showed me how to rock it with doing three jump turns. We sat till it was getting chilly and I walked home before it got too cold and dark.

Familiarity and comfort ability are two things that I love most about my life here. People genuinely care about me when they see me, yet we are all able to joke in a mix of languages. They no longer question when I start to write Tigrigna on my left hand, but make sure that I spelt it correctly. We can laugh about the craziness of each other’s languages while not laughing at the person attempting the unfamiliar one. We can sit for an hour to watch others play checkers and randomly chitchat.

Last year I was often forgotten when it came to social functions. Either someone wouldn’t tell me it was going on, or tell me we were all going. That’s rare these days. I’m asked a head of time, multiple times, that I will be somewhere for something. It’s this inclusion that I treasure. While eating, Meles mentioned that none of the 6 new teachers we have had come. I pointed out that it is hard to feel wanted and part of a group when one is new. Other teachers agreed, though many don’t remember that as they’ve been in Selekleka for at least three years.

This whole week is designated to mid-exams. Three each day for four days to cover the 11 subjects and have a day to hand back exams. I’m not required to go to school tomorrow as I’m not proctoring, English isn’t till Wednesday and there is no program going on. However, I will. I’ll go to see my friends smile, ask how they are doing, help in any way I can, and walk the half hour back with. Besides, Letish promised to paint my nails tomorrow and I can’t pass up her hugs!