Flexible

The dictionary defines flexible as:

“adjective

capable of bending easily without breaking 

•able to be easily modified to respond to altered circumstances or conditions

• (of a person) ready and able to change so as to adapt to different circumstances”

Life is teaching me it’s saying “okay then” to random events and making the most of whatever unforseenness has occurred.

Flag Day:

     The chipping, once solid white line is barely visible on either side of the road under the brightly colored plastic shoes of hundreds of 9^th and 10^th graders. Teal uniforms flank each side of the road like trees on a path. Girls, walking in the left lane, whisper and giggle to each other. Boys, on the right, try to talk about the latest football game. The occasional bus, bajaj (mini blue taxies), or car slows down to go smoothly down the middle avoiding teachers and administrators walking or biking to keep track of the students. I smile. An hour ago I was walking along this same road wondering if the tactile manipulates would actually work as my lesson plan suggested. Unbeknownst to me then, today was Flag Day. A holiday celebration for the students that (according to a teacher) was started 7 years ago by an Ethiopian who was intrigued by America’s tradition. So, instead of teaching about present simple and progressive verb tenses, I waited for the police to direct our group down to the very open dirt market space. As students looped around the area songs continued to play. A curious three year old in French braids and a yellow dress, came up to hold my hand. Her smile lit up even more as I sunk down next to her to ask about her name and notice her beautiful purple fingernail polish. Sanding and swaying to music bypasses the language barrier all together. Two flags (one Ethiopian and Tigrignian) were raised into the clear blue sky by the police as the national anthem cracked through speakers to the students and on-lookers. There was a speech that only half came through the mutters of those next to me and then we were all released.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t start that walk back to town unfrazzled. I was. I hadn’t been told about the ceremony (like other events) which is irritating. Holding that little girl’s hand, reminded me that it doesn’t matter. My day was still pretty great even though it wasn’t like I had planned. Sure, my weekly lesson plan wasn’t going to conquered completely, and I didn’t have my camera for the ceremony, but I’d made another memory that was even better just for going with the flow.

Buna Ceremonies:

Dense corn injera is lightly dusted with a hot spice. Corn is roasting over charcoal turning the tips of the yellow kernels black. Dark, rich, strong, bitter liquid sloshes around my white tiny cup on saucer. Which number cup this? I am no longer sure. While there are only three rounds in the traditional buna ceremony, there is no set number of cups per round.

There are two shifts at my school: morning and afternoon. Each shift is composed of 6 periods with a half hour break between 3^rdand 4^th. This week I taught in the morning shift. Next week, I have afternoon shift. Like the British with their tea time, coffee ceremonies tend to be during the afternoon. Although the taste of coffee is not my forte, I could not say no to Mama when she insisted I come for a traditional buna ceremony on Saturday, Monday, or Wednesday. Wednesday I’d made it to round three (possibly four cups) when one of my site mates dropped by. Being completely hospitably, Mama offered her a cup and injera. She then restarted the ceremony so that Stephanie could get her three rounds in. I possibly ended with 8 cups…maybe 9.

The unexpectancy of buna ceremonies changes my plans of what I get done in a day. I never know when an invitation is going to be issued. But having time to tell Mama about my family and friends in America, talk with compound friends about what is happening in our days, and taking a break is all worth it. I learn more about them as people and the language than I could ever learn by studying flashcards in my room.   

Free Time:

     Two dinner size tables are pushed together in the staff room. A couple chairs pushed around it. A box of chalk sits alone at one end. Various stairs papers are left around. It’s outside on one of the many the stairs where fellow staff memories sit under the shade during their free time between classes. It’s here on these steps inside jokes, precious memories, debates about English grammar and Tigrignian lessons take place for me.

     On Thursday I delighted one of the math teachers, by allowing him to teach me and giving him feedback to make it easier to understand for students. He even gave me homework on different functions to learn and new verbs to memorize. Other English teachers come up to look at my teaching aids and ask to borrow them. The physics and biology teacher laugh when I state their subjects, but remind me that so is English.

     Although I could leave when I am finished teaching, I stay. I stay for the laughs. I stay The conversations that flirt between Tigrigna and English. I stay to continue to building relationships that brighten my day.

Ordinary Selekleka

        My life is mundane and ordinary--making an interesting blog seemingly impossible. Then, I realize that life, even in the ordinary parts of my day, are still different than anything I thought I would experience. So here is a blog full of ordinary events in my life.

         My aquamarine room is about 15 feet by 9 feet. There is one silver metal door and one window looking out into the courtyard of the compound.  A gauzy film of a mosquito net cloaks a twin size metal framed bed at night and is pulled back to make a comfortable place to work during the day. A rickety tan wood table is weighed under by a single electrical burner, fresh ambassa, garlic, bananas, and other fresh vegetables; besides a water filter. Under the window, across from the bed another more stable wooden table stands draped in a purple khanga, above it is a map of Ethiopia with arrows marking locations of PC friends. It’s the breach between studies once done in another country (Tanzania) and a place to prepare for new ones here. Off to the right is a square suitcase that started the year in Pennsylvania, repurposed now as a dresser. A plastic woven rug, yellow, dark blue and deep magenta, covers the cracking gray concrete floor. Pictures of people I love smile down on me as I gaze about the room making me feel wrapped in love and support. Quotes and words of encouragements remind me to keep things in perspective. It’s an ordinary room, but it is mine.

         After I tripped for the 15th time in a ten-minute walk this morning I couldn’t help but question my klutziness. Was I always so clumsy and just didn’t realize it? Then it dawned on me how “trip free” the environments I’ve lived in actually are. Sidewalks are usually paved, flat, and four inches above the street. Roads are paved. Paths are worn down with minimal obstructions in the way of my toes. Sometimes they even have pebbles or barkchips covering them. Selekleka has one wide paved main road with a wide shoulder painted in. The sidewalk is constructed from two foot high concrete blocks lined up one after the other. Going up and off these can be tricky. All the other roads/paths in the town are good old-fashioned rock and dirt. Some places, where summer rains caused excessive runoff, are more rocky and tricky to navigate than others, but every path has rocks scatter throughout the path. Between rocks and animal droppings it’s like navigating through a life size maze. But, oh, the places one can go!

         As I don’t have a refrigerator or way to store an excess of produce and goods, it’s normal to go to the market or small corner stores called shuks daily. I’ve started to use the time to practice my Tigrigna and build relationships. Children cluster around me like a magnet. Their friendly, curious faces searching for an explanation to my presence. Even if they saw me earlier, the young ones always ask my name. Women selling tomatoes, onions, guavas, and corn smile as I walk by and examine their goods. Like the children, they are eager to learn my name and show me their reddest tomatoes. I never really know what the prices are for anything. When I got here a week and a half ago a kilo (2.2 pounds) of tomatoes was 20 birr (about 1 dollar). Today it was down to 10 birr. (I am glad I waited a week). On Saturday, large market day, lettuce made an appearance for the first time in months (according to site mates)! It all depends on what they are able to harvest and bring to town.

         We are moving out of summer (aka rainy season) and into fall (really warmer season). This is my favorite time of year as it feels more and more like spring. Early in the mornings it’s just chilly enough I need a sweatshirt to make breakfast, but I like the soft nip as I walk to school. In the evenings my site mates and I take a walk to the school for exercise and a chance to debrief the day. A couple evenings ago the sunset was so red it caused the cement road to have a pink hue. The golden sun setting behind deep purple hills across the vast soft green teff fields is a sight I will never get tired of. Little yellow flowers--the definition of happiness--spring up along side the road.  A little boy who lives near the road, calls us over to share peas (yes, peas that would be amazing in the cream peas and new potatoes dish my Grandma makes) from plants he’s pulled up from the roots. Before long, the deep blanket of night cloaks the sky with pinpricks of light. The moon is but a silver smile that doesn’t stay out for long. It maybe only 8 o’clock at night, but the music from clubs drifts into my room as another day is recorded in my journal.

         Life is low key now, but like an airplane it will soon be soaring after a slow takeoff. I am currently working on a research paper assigned by Peace Corps that will take plenty of time and energy to complete. Research in this case does not mean internet (thankfully as I rarely have that). Instead, through series of interviews, observations, and exams (mostly of my students at school) I’m assessing English, and will also to gain an understanding of Selekleka as the town. I thought classes were starting this week, but it is just registration and meetings. I do have the textbooks which I’ll use to plan now and adapt for future classes. In two weeks (Oct 10), I have an installation meeting where Peace Corps staff will come and formally introduce me to the community. Right now, I love that I have time to curl up with a book and a cup of tea, but am looking forward to getting into more of a routine, productive-feeling schedule.  You know, normal.

PST Learnings Sept. 18, 2014

        Today I finished my last training class as a Peace Corps Trainee (PST). Tomorrow I dress up all cute, go to the US Embassy, and get sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer. The following day I go to my home for the next two years and get settled in before teaching. Someone once told me life is like driving. Usually you need to look forward and plan ahead so you know where you are going, but every once in a while you need to glance in your rear view mirror to see where you have been. Here is the rear view of the past three months, of learning about myself, others, and life.

1. Difference between needs and wants

A need is to "require something because it is essential or important." A want is a "desire for something." I've always been frugal with money or asking for anything, but I have realized the differences between these two things more drastically in the last three months. The contrast between first world American Facebook statuses and my current living environment could be a source of this difference. Or my desire to integrate into this community more causes the difference between the worlds to become more apparent when I hear someone mention them or think them myself. My daily needs of safe drinking water, food, and bathroom are constantly being evaluated, while those were often taken for granted back home. State-side "needs," like wifi, hot water showers, and reliable electricity are now considered luxurious wants. Yes, I am human and want things (see learning point number 5) but I am learning the peace and joy of understanding the importance of not fixating on wants. There is a safe peace when I realize my needs are met and I am doing okay.

2. Appreciate what you have not what you are missing

This piggy backs on the aforementioned topic. I am so appreciative of my water filter and have stopped thinking longingly of safe tap water or ice (difference between need and wants). I love my one room in a busy house in Butajira, even though it was missing soundproof walls and lack of bug control. I appreciate my own outlet, instead of thinking about how rooms in America have multiple outlets everywhere. But I also look at the nonmaterialist things I don't have here. I am missing so many birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and special occasions that I would love to celebrate with my family and friends. But I focus on all the new birthdays and holidays I get to celebrate with new friends. Many of my friends are going to grad school or having fun decorating classrooms (y'all are awesome), but I'm not. My life right now is so different from people that I am used to sharing experiences with, it is hard some days to not compare myself and be appreciative for what crazy random adventure God is taking me on.

3. Parent-isms

Maybe it's from having a two-year old brother or hanging out with people who are different from me, but sayings that my parents told me over and over and over again keep popping up in my mouth and taking me by surprise. When Baba would cry and scream about something I would say, "Use your words." Or "No means no." Or "Crying and begging get you no where with me." Even though he couldn't understand my English, he did understand that I was serious and wasn't going to give in. He stopped crying. If my friends were busy or curfew had brought me inside, but no one was doing anything, the sayings "entertain yourself" or "if you say you are bored you get chores" kept me on the lookout for something new to do or learn. It was because of this I saw the full process of killing a chicken. "It's okay to fail, but not to give up" kept me going with hard study days. "We all have different skills" and "_____ needs this more than you" prevented quick judgments and comparisons and led to respectful relationships, and letting things just slide off me. These are just some of my parents' phrases from years and years ago have come up these months. It just goes to show that words do have the power to change and influence an individual years after you say them.

4. Community

Back home I would consider living in multiple communities. One would be my church community and the other my school community of friends. In both situations individuals supported each other and cared about each other. Here community commitment is evident in everything. Neighbors visit each other for hours at a time with the host always offering something to eat and drink. Kids are looked after by the community while playing all over town. If someone is sick, everyone knows about it and is helping in someway. It may seem overwhelming and obnoxious for everyone to ask how you are feeling as they heard you were sick one day, but it is also comforting to know so many people are looking out for you. In Butajira there were so many people who would ask about my day, how learning Tigrigna was going, and how my host family was. It didn't matter that we both were heading places, what was more important was the person standing in front of you now. Valuing the person (God's creation) instead of time (man's contraption) is a lesson I never want to forget.

5. Odd Quirks

1) I speak really softly in Tigrigna and in groups. I have been told to speak louder on more than one occasion. 2) I love looking at cloud formations. They are just so beautiful and cool. It's like God is showing off His impromptu creativity. 3) Children rejuvenate me. Even if they take so much energy, I forget about being tired and just be with them. 4) I have random cravings. Common random food cravings are pancakes, ham, toast, string cheese, Everything Crackers, and chocolate. Common other cravings: embroidering, books, Pandora music and newspapers. I recognize these are all wants, but it is so odd battling them. 5) Skirts are my “go to” outfit. While pants are acceptable for women, I still find myself wearing skirts 98% of the time. 6) Letter writing is cathartic. Sure it may take weeks or months to receive letters, I absolutely love and treasure receiving and writing letters.

6. Differences in cultures is just different, not bad.

Ethiopians have taught me that Americans never fill their glasses all they way (water tension is key here), say "thank you," "please," and apologize for everything, and that one should respect and pay attention to greetings, and coffee is a process. I've learned that Ethiopians tend to be more flexible with time, use a different clock to tell time, do not mean to offend with direct commands, cook with lots of oil and consider soccer/football of high importance. While all of this is different from what I've been accustomed to, it doesn't make the behaviors bad or wrong. It is just a different or new way of living life. Through respect we can learn from each other instead of just getting frustrated at a culture clash.

7. It's been a semester of learning.

Academically I have learned so much about so many topics. I'm not going to spend super long talking about this, as you have heard most of it before. From education trainings to medical training I have learned more about more topics than I thought I would at training. Obviously language has also been a huge learning curve. This past Monday, I took my language placement test and was relieved at how much I could actually do know. No, I am not fluent. No, I am not the best. Yes, I still have a long way to go. But I passed what PC required me to do and feel confident going into site. Personally I have learned so much about my own personality (quirks, morals, values, ethics, etc) and that of others around me. I love to listen while others love to talk. I am behind the pop culture curve, but can bring Disney quotes into so many things. I am not materialist, while others are. There are just so many wonderful differences and newnesses to make learning an everyday experience.

PST has been hard. But it was the good kind of hard. Like the third day of practice for a new season. You know you are going to hurt, by you have to keep going so it becomes familiar. I feel conditioned and ready, but know that game days are different than practice. I go to my site where I will be put to the test. I know I will get frustrated, confused, lost, and discouraged. That's just life. Fouls are part of the game. If one focuses on being behind he or she always will be. I'm not going to focus on the score, but just giving my heat, energy, time, commitment and dedication to being the best me I can be. We will all see how the season of Peace Corps service goes.

Please pray for patience, understanding, learning and growth. I do not have wifi at site so I don't know how blogging will go from here. I love you all and am so blessed to have you all supporting me.

Happy New Year!

Nothing like going to a new calendar system to make one reevaluate the way she looks at life! Usually on September 11th there is gloom and a sense of remembrance. Not here, where it is New Year's day of the Ethiopian year 2007. The last time I celebrated the entrance of 2007, I was at Sydney Moberg's house with Sophie (exchange sister from Germany) and other girls where we brought enough sparkling apple cider for us each to have a bottle. I watched Titanic for the first and only time through that cider bottle that would haunt me during basketball practice the next day. That year I would play 1:29 in the state championship basketball game where we place second, go to San Fran and Hollywood on family vacation, play summer basketball, help kickoff FFA at Santiam, and dislocate my knee is basketball. With plenty of Young Life, practices, campaigners, and spirit weeks it made a full year. What's going to be new and different with this one?

When I think about New Year celebrations in the states, it usually revolves around New Year's Eve. Eating great food with the family. Playing games and such till 9, when we watch the ball drop in New York and my parents go to bed. Then hanging out with brothers or friends till midnight creeps across the country to finally reach the West Coast. The next morning we all sleep in and groggily come to breakfast of Dad's great cooking. Occasionally we talk about resolutions knowing they aren't always going to last the full 365 days. Compared to the other holidays it's pretty low key.

There is nothing remarkable about New Years Eve here. In fact my host family was confused when I used the phrase. To them, it is just a day to prepare for the following day. Preparations for me meant washing dishes. However, this allowed me to watch the new preparations going on. After chopping enough onions to fill a three- gallon bucket and putting those to simmer on the fire with oil, water and spices, the scene was cleared for the two roosters to be prepared. Seeing as how these roosters had waken me up at five that morning, I wasn't all that heart-broken when they were killed, plucked, blown like balloons, smoked, cut, washed, cooked and added to onions. The process did take forever and I only stayed for the first washing (meat is washed 15 times according to host mom), but it was pretty interesting. On a side note, I realized how sturdy my stomach is.

New Year's Day is a holy day. The first lesson I learned is that sleeping in is an American cultural trait. At seven my dear host mom banged on the door making sure I wasn't sick. At eight she did it again and, after asking if I wasn't sick, stated bluntly, "Get up. Get dressed. Eat breakfast." Alrighty then. Breakfast was doro watt or roosters in tasty onions with injera. Afterwards I was given a traditional Ethiopian shirt and told to shower and change. I was eager for this. The shirt is absolutely beautiful and mostly white. The rest of the morning was spent watching church services on TV. My family had already gone to church in the morning when I slept. During the afternoon I helped make popcorn (i.e.,  I got to wave the tin plate back and forth in front of the small opening in the charcoal stove to keep it hot.) We added sugar to it. Then we just hung out waiting for neighbors to come visiting. Community is a very integral part of this culture. At seven we went and visited one of our neighbors before going for a walk under the stars.

Today is host family appreciation day. Monday I take my language placement exam. Tuesday I head to Addis for more meetings. Friday I swear in as an official Peace Corps volunteer at the US embassy. Saturday I travel to my site to stay! 2007 is going to be busy and full of challenges. It is going to be interesting and entertaining to see how I learn and grow this year.

Silver Linings

 The world is a complex mess full of problems, conflicts, heartbreaks and depression. The quick running tag line of headlines on BBC is enough to verify this. People dying from disease, crashes, and other humans. Recessions coming. Wars. Life, at times can be like this too. Culture shock, being scheduled by other people, having giant assignments due, and gossip floating around can all lead to internal conflicts. Peace Corps' motto of "being the hardest job you'll ever love" definitely applies to PST too. However, the job maybe hard, but it ends in love. It's important to look for (or make) the glimmers of silver linings.

Last week, this week, and next week language class is scheduled for 4-6 hours per day. That is a lot of language. Even though frustrations arise, I was shocked the other day by the confidence, fluency, and comprehension I was demonstrating. I've caught myself mentally thinking and translating others into Tigrigna. Verbs are coming easier to memorize and use in the proper tense. I understand the questions being asked of me and can often explain my reasoning which requires higher level thinking. I am not using a memorized script, but instead using authentic language. Yes, it is hard. Yes, I wish I could talk to others in Butajira. But I am learning language that will come in handy in three weeks!

As we are finishing up PST there have been many assignments and tests to prepare for. One paper ended up being eight pages typed and took hours to write. Hours that are sparse in free time. Power outages didn't help with it either. The title of the assignment was "Readiness to Serve," and while I won't share all that was written, I will say I'm now glad I did it. Peace Corps asked some good thought-provoking questions about the reality of signing onto a two year contract. What do I envision my service being? How am I aligned to the PC philosophy on service and development? How have I identified and adapted to new cultural norms? How have I integrated? How have I supported my other PCTs? There is a peace that comes with reflection. Yes, there are many things I don't know about, but I do know that I'm where I'm suppose to be, being prepared for a great two year job, and love the people I am with.

Verbal harassment is an everyday occurrence. I am white, female, young, and easy to spot. Guys call out how much they love me. Children ask for money. When giving fist pumps some children pull back to pound you hard. Needless to say it can be exhausting, disheartening, and irritating. But four beautiful girls break into my life like rays of sunshine coming through thick, dark clouds. They constantly bless me with hugs, patty cake games and little glimpses of Amharic. My little brother crawls into my lap for nursery songs and to tickle. He has recently discovered the joy of summer-saulting, but needs help turning over. It's joys of laugher that ease the frustrations of taunts throughout the day.

Mud is slippery, gross, and goes everywhere. Dust is obnoxious, irritating and nasty tasting. Rain is cold, wet and loud on metal roofs. Sun is bright, warm, and burns skin. These previous weeks we've had it all. We also heard about a 113 year old man responding to the question of longevity with the quote "When it rains, I let it." The weather is uncertain, but how you react to it is certainly dependent on yourself only. I realized there are a 101 shades of green in my town because of the rain. The purple gray whisps of evening clouds are trimmed with soft gold by the setting sun. I am getting tan. Horses hooves make different sounds when they encounter different surfaces.

The past week, this week, today has been full of downers. There are spiders. I smell roasting coffee daily. Free time is fleeting. Food is spicy. The water was out for five days. But it's important to find the silver linings to focus on. I fed a baboon and monkeys bread. I saw a two-week old baby bamboo try to walk. I can take a shower with two liters of saved water and have some remaining. I found a playlist my brother Philip gave me years ago that is bombdotcom! I heard both of my parents' voices! I can make bread and a really good meat dish. I found doughnuts with chocolate frosting! Food that was once too spicy is now appetizing. Sure, life may lead to optimism, but I've learned this week it's our attitudes that ultimately decides what we focus on. I'm looking for the silver linings.

Selekleka

A two lane highway snakes through town waiting for the busses to come through to Shire or Axum. A lush, green, densely forested hill stands proudly behind the colorful storefronts on the left hand side while the land opens up to a valley on the other. Boxes of cactus fruit sit on the sidewalk as their seller flicks away the flies. Twelve proud, tall camels use the bike lane, walking single file on the way to get another load of wood, flour or other commodities the farmer may need. Orange ping pong balls bounce back and fourth as competitive teenage boys play under the sun in Ethiopian jerseys. Fresh roasted coffee waifs through on the dusty, warm air inviting one into many little coffee houses. This is Selekleka, soon to be my home away from home.

When I was asked over a month ago where I wanted to be placed, I listed off something like the following: green, small, plenty of children, other site mates to collaborate with would be cool but not necessary, fruit and veggies, moderate temperature and rural. I realized that this was a random list and I wasn't guaranteed to get anything I asked for. There is nothing special about me to make me get what I want compared to the other 69 PCTs who also had their own dream lists. Spending time in Selekleka made me realize how blessed I really am. It's more than I could have anticipated or expected.

The country opens up along the paved turning road heading west out of Axum. Rolling hills are dark green thanks to all the rain this rainy season has brought. The first you can see of Selekleka is a square four story hotel sitting on the edge of the corner and hill while you wind your way to it. The entire town takes five minutes to drive through or twenty minutes to walk from one end to the other if you stop and talk to people along the way. For someone missing Mill City sized places, this is a relief from the large city atmosphere. Although the main road is paved all the roads coming off of it to form a web of rocky soil trails. After a rain, one has to slosh through the mud that squelches up your shoes to get anywhere. Unlike Butajira, where donkeys pull carts and horse drawn buggies are common and multiple, there are none here. Outside the mill house, where locals take their grain to get beaten into flour, donkeys and camels wait to carry the goods on their backs. I never saw a horse. Children call out and quickly learn your name! I will probably have to start being called "Jozie" as "Jessie" is a problem for most. My two site mates are fun, encouraging, welcoming, and supportive. Building relationships with them is going to be fun.

The school, a high school for Grades 9&10, is outside of the town hub. The 25-40 minute walk may seem daunting, but it is absolutely gorgeous. Hills form a loose hug around the valley of green turf and corn fields. Walking along the paved road (40 minute way) is smooth, gorgeous and a fun place to meet really rural children enamored by the lightness of my skin. Due to the rain, the short way through fields is unsuitable to go through for me. I was willing to try, but the kind school guard argued against it, so the road it was. I don't know details about when I will be teaching Grade 9, as the administrators of the school were in other cities for meetings. I am excited that it is the same grade I started Practicum with, but look forward to finding ways to adapt to the 55-60 students per class I will teaching.

While the Peace Corps did give me enough birr to stay in a hotel for my visit, I was able to say in my future compound! It is unclear if I am going to have one or two rooms, but the room I stayed in was amazing! The walls are painted a light teal, aquamarine and is still fairly fresh. The ceiling is tall which allows the medium size room to feel less claustrophobic-y. There is a bed that is comfortable and tall enough to store things under. I could get some tables and have my own kitchen area under the three foot square window. My two site mates let me look at their places, so I have plenty of dream ideas floating through my head. Probably the best part about my compound are the people. My landlady introduced herself as "Addoy" or "Mama." She is so hospitable and nice. For breakfast yesterday she gave me a large slice of bread with a sizable quantity of honey. Her granddaughter and daughter from Germany were visiting and very fun. My neighbor works at the health center as a HIV/AIDs nurse, giving medicine to those with the disease to prevent the spread. She invited me over for dinner and tea. Although our knowledge of each other's language is limited, we were able to have conversations mixing the two together. Her two year old is full of energy but adorable! I am going to miss her, but am looking forward to moving in and being her permanent neighbor.

Finally, Selekleka is a magical niche for deliciousness. Before site visit I had hit an injera wall. No matter how hard I tried, injera in Butajira was too sour and too hard to stomach most of it. In Selekleka it is edible! Last night I was even able to eat an entire plate of fir fir, injera with injera pieces soaked in spices, and enjoyed it. I also have discovered los shai, peanut tea. This sweet, thick, warm, peanut buttery tea is absolutely delicious on its own and great for dunking chocolate cookies in. Eating out at local habisha places with site mates has also been good. It is good to talk with people who live her and watch as they make food or spices. I cannot wait to learn how to cook some of these foods when I come back in a month.

Yes, I have one more month from today, before swearing in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer. One month to kick up the Tigrigna learning. One month to enjoy my host family and Butajira family. One month to get education, medical and safety trainings. One month until I come back to my small piece of paradise.

Coffee

Okay we got to talk about coffee. As many of you know I am not a coffee fan. I don't like the taste or smell, but I am in the country where coffee was first discovered, drank, and cultivated. I have also done some assignments on it and figure all you coffee lovers would like to hear about this. The coffee ceremonies in Ethiopia are very important. They show respect and are at all social events. First they start by washing the green beans. Then they are put on a steel plate over a charcoal stove to roast. In order to keep the beans from burning the person roasting has a hooked shaped metal prong to move the beans around. With this she can also flip the beans so that all sides turn brown at the same rate. It is also important to fan the flame of the stove so that the beans are cooking at a consistent rate. Once the beans have popped and are the color of satisfaction they are set aside while a special clay pot specifically designed for coffee is put on the stove to boil. The beans then go in a mortar and pestle type devise to get ground extremely finely. Once the water has boiled the majority of the grounds are poured in. Then you wait for the coffee to reboil. To see if the coffee is the right, taste little samples are poured out. The pot is designed to limit the grounds During the first half of the pot. If coffee is too strong water is added, but if it is too "tea like" more grounds are added. When done the pot is brought into the house and put on a hot pad specifically designed to hold the round clay coffee pot. On the floor they put a small mat with plastic frills similar to fake hula skirts. They can range in colors and design, but all the ones I've seen have the plastic frills. On the mat is a two story tray that holds the coffee cups. While some like to drink coffee plain, adding salt and butter is preferred by my host father. They assume as a foreigner that I will have sugar in mine. Coffee is recoiled three times during the ceremony. The same grounds are used it's just the water that is re-added. Children occasionally get to drink some during the third round when it is not as strong. I made it a month without drinking any coffee. There was always tea as an option or I could opt to not buy it myself. However, this week my host dad made surprise visits home (he works in another town as a driver) and wanted coffee with dinner. I tried to talk myself out of it, but he insisted I try at least one cup. Although they put sugar in it, they used the same spoon that had been in the butter. While this might gross out you coffee gurus, it didn't taste all that bad. The second time he came I again had one cup (about the circumference of the top of a shot glass) with only sugar. I don't know if it is because the coffee is so fresh, boiled, or what, but it tasted pretty good. Granted I still prefer tea, but I can at least drink a cup without puckering. Also, because it's only 1/4 cup of coffee it totally didn't affect sleep at all. So there is a small update on coffee. This weeks assignment is to make chirro and injera!