Redefining Hard (The week I won’t forget: April 11—April 15) May 20, 2016

This week has been one of the hardest, most trying weeks of my life and definitely of my Peace Corps experience. My heart has been over flowing with joy and crushed with sorrow. My body has been pushed to exhausting limits and completely relaxed. I've had answers given and more questions arose. At thousands of feet above the world, I'm able to just breath, turn up the tunes and process this week. 

On Monday, April 11, I spent the morning inputting students' grades from a four part skills assessment that tested grammar, reading, writing and listening skills. So many grades, but great to see growth of many students and awareness to weak spots. In the afternoon, I was able to get some internet that was strong enough for a quick chat with Mom. Thankfully she listened to a “God nudge” and corrected my poor time zone calculations so that I was completely ready for my 6:10 pm my time (8:10am Hermiston, OR time) phone interview. An interview which  I came away from thinking I spoke much too quickly and praying the connection held up for them to hear and understand me. I was told they would be interviewing the next day and let me know in a week. I went to sleep thinking it was a fun day and excited for the prospect to start imagining teaching Stateside. 

Tuesday morning, April 12, I was so excited I skipped breakfast to head straight to the bus station to take me to the airport. Unlike many airports, one has a twenty minute walk to get to Axum Airport. A walk where brown grass blows in the wind and birds can sing to their hearts content. I'd barely started eating my orange when a plane landed 30 minutes ahead of schedule (something unheard of around these parts). A plane that had one of my dearest friends aboard. Hugging her for the first time in two years filled my heart to overdrive. We spent the morning exploring Ethiopia's deep rich Christian history with obelisks, tombs of emperors, and Queen Sheba's bath. We relaxed with delicious special fuul and juices before catching a bus headed to Selekleka. Two letters were waiting for me at the post office, but instead we met people and I introduced my friend to injera and tradition dishes. A little bit of lesson planning and then we crashed. 

I woke up on Wednesday, April 13,  thinking it would be an ordinary, normal day with teaching in the morning and a kindergarten program in the afternoon. We grabbed teaching aids and filled our water bottles before leaving my house at 7 am. Part of the walk to school is done on the main paved road. Usually in the mornings not many people are out walking about. Students slowly filter to the school. However, as we got closer my heart began to sink with the cars, bajajs and people clustered all around.  Trying to avoid causing more of a scene with two white people I kept eyes down and just walked around. However, when I looked back my eyes were drawn to teal blue legs and lime green plastic “jelly” shoes laying motionless under a blanket. I kept walking, but was soon confronted by other students who were confirming my worst fears: a student had been killed by a car. The student was one of mine. Nothing seemed ordinary or normal after that. 

       There was a meeting where teachers and directors decided that morning classes would be cancelled so the entire school could pay respect to the boy's family. While many asked why I was going, they understood the importance of the walk and that he was one of mine. My friend Rowanne and I left with students clustered around us. We walked and walked and walked. Up and over five mountains for two and a half hours as our water diminished as we sweated it out. We would peak on mountain just to see teal uniforms climbing a hill at least a mile a head of us. We made it to a church and then there was a funeral ceremony. 

     Walking back to the boy's house, about five minutes for the church, the wailing reverberated in my heart as I realized I'd never had a clearly definition of grief and mourning before. I wanted to cry as I saw tears streaming down so many faces, but couldn't. Priests brought down a cot wrapped in red cloth and performed more ceremonies while the crying and wailing continued. Questions filled through my head, but couldn't quench the realization that this was something special and unique that showed the tenacity and respect everyone was giving to this 15 year old. 

         A couple of my female students and I were blessed with corn injera and water before heading back down to town under the sweltering heat. Reaching town, a couple of my other students made sure that Rowanne and I got bottled water though they were very hesitant to take some after we had poured some into our camel backs. One of my close teacher friends admitted that he had been planning to eat breakfast at school so he hadn't had anything eat. When I told him he was strong, he shrugged it off and said "I just accepted the journey that was put on front of me." 

        Rinsing off the dirt that made my skins look as dark as my students', I realized that I couldn't wash away the tiredness that was settling in my legs and heart. After a quick lunch, Rowanne and I grabbed a mosquito piñata and headed to "0 Class," kindergarten. Even though we were late, the kids (ages ranging from 3-5) and teachers were glad to see us. I adapted "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" to be part of the mosquito, before attempting to play tag. Even though the piñata hook broke, kiddos were amazing at taking turns at braking the piñata as I buzzed it around. 

   Finished the night by watching the new live action "Cinderella." 

      How does one teach the day after that? How can we do group work when one group's member isn't just absent with the flu?  How can the normal walk to school become normal again? That's what rushed through my head and heart a million times, Thursday morning. I still don't know all the answers. 

      What I do know, is that the rough parts have to acknowledged and "moving on" or attempting to do normal things help with it all. We did group stations which kept things busy and mostly productive. During break we recorded students reading malaria facts in an attempt to make a video. Time and people took on new perspective as I realized the future, not even the next hour, is ever guaranteed. 

         After class, Rowanne and I were invited to Teklay's parents' house out in a village for a "kusme," religious celebration for the Orthodox Christians. We kind of joked that we hoped it wouldn't be as long of walk as yesterday, but he assured us it wasn't even over one mountain. Eobel, a charismatic three year old, brightened up the day with his facial expressions and love of Rowanne's camera. Had to leave early to get a delivery of 45 bed nets, but enjoyed the gusty walk back through dry fields. 

         Had a fabulously full coffee ceremony with laughs and giggles at Fergenet's to leave us full of love and joy. 

Friday, April 15, was suppose to be piñata and mosquito net distribution day. Neither happened. Students were about as done as I was with the week and the overall behavior of many of them reflected that to a wild extreme. No piñata. 800+ people signed up for nets and we couldn't get lottery system done before flag ceremony, so no mosquito nets. Instead left school after a couple rounds of checkers. 

      Called a friend in country who checked my email to find that there was a letter of intent to hire me for a fourth grade position in Hermiston, Oregon that I had saved for me until my visit Stateside in a couple weeks. Got reassuring Facebook messages from Mom and mentor teacher that assured and left me pondering as I waited at bank. Surprised by a new ATM card which makes my life easier. 

       Once back, Rowanne and I had a fantastic guided tour of Selekleka by Billion, a sixth grader who can do anything she wants to with her energy and passion. We all relaxed with a cold pop before coming home for checkers and for Billion to braid Rowanne's hair. Read 1 Peter 4:7-13,19 which could fill another blog with how much it pertains to this week before rewatching "Cinderella" and bed. 

The weekend included going to Adwa to hang out with Peace Corps buddies. Then to Addis Sunday afternoon for Rowanne to catch a flight on Monday to go back to the states and me to head back to site for a visit from Peace Corps personal. 

I should be used to things being topsy-turvey. To expect the unexpected and abnormal to crop up where and when I least expect it. But how does one balance so many emotions in such a short period of time? From grief in the morning at a student's wake to joy in the afternoon with Kindergarteners? I don't know. I know things aren't really fine, but that's what I have to keep saying until some semblance of understanding comes. 

One month later: (May 20)

     It's been a little over a month since this horribly hard week happened. A month where I was able to process and try to put things into some sort of perspective. A couple things have happened that I want you all to be aware of before I post this. 

     Most importantly, Teachers and community members have thanked me multiple times for being part of their culture. They thank me (and Rowanne) for walking that long, hard, hot walk to respect the student, his family, and the culture. They mentioned that they never would have thought a foreigner would care so much about them and want to take part in the hard parts of their culture. It's brought to my attention that there are many different types of ways to show love and respect for people and culture. 

      Friends and family haven't let me just be fine. Many have been inquisitive and supportive in various ways as they know that grief takes time. 

      I've gone to a Christening, wedding and condolence ceremonies. Life keeps going on with new life and death part of the flow. They can't be denied, but rather acknowledged to influence the only thing for certain: the second in which you are living. Since this week, I've tried living every second of ever minute of every hour with purpose as if it were my last. While I don't expect to die anytime soon, practicing this has opened up my life to experiences I wasn't expecting. I've met fascinating people all over the world and more friends around Selekleka. I've helped slaughter goats and played more rope games than I have since elementary school. 

        I didn't write this blog to complain or state the woes of life. I want to be honest about My Peace Corps experience and what God is trying to teach me through it. I want people to be honest with me when I ask "How are you?" Instead of stating an "I'm fine" response behind a mask of emotions. So I'm being honest now. Life is full of emotions, obstacles and choices. What makes it doable is knowing there are friends who will listen and support you in all of them. Thank you for all your support and please let me know how I can support you. 

My World Is Turning Green 11 May 2016

There are many things in this world that I simply don’t understand. Why are young female students still being forced into arranged marriages? Why are students killed by reckless drivers? How can students adequately show their knowledge with a grading system that is 65% based on two tests? Why is corporal punishment still being practiced? Why is the plural form of sheep still sheep and not sheeps?

So many question filter in through my days here. This week being mid-exam and “practice” exams week means I am getting lots more questions. What is the difference between “for”, “ago” and “since”? Why is it all students instead of every students? If the rule states that verbs ending in CVC (consonant vowel consonant) one has to double the consonent before adding suffix (ex: runà running) why is the continuous tense of draw drawing and not drawwing? Why are you leaving after 3 months? Why did you go to America for only two weeks?

We all know the feeling of being boggled. The dictionary uses anxious, hesitant, overwhelmed, and astonished to try to describe the feeling. But today as I went for a walk during exams, I realized a deep peace in the fact that my world is turning green.

When I left for America two weeks ago, the land was being scorched by high temperatures draining everything and everyone’s energy. There were ten shades of brown and only a few of grey in the landscape. Kids’ colored plastic shoes and uniforms were like the only color in a black and white movie.

Now in what seemed like a barren land there is a twinge of green. Grass is growing for sheep to munch on with more ease. Corn stalks are tall and healthy sprouting blonde wigs. The mountain is gradually being clothed in a green blanket. At school, trees that seemed like tall standing twigs for so long are slowly filling out their branches with deep green leaves. My world is turning green.

There are many things I do not know or understand. But there is peace in what I can count on. The rain may come early for unknown reason, but the results are the same. Language may be hard to comprehend, but the twinkle of eyes or lips with a smile is universal. Hardships hit like a hurricane without warning, but friends are right there to lend support.

I only know shimmers of the future. I have three more months here which house 3 weeks of classes, two weeks of break for 9^th grade students, 1 week of final exams, 1 week of Peace Corps Conference, and another week of English Leadership Camp. I then head out to get back to the States 2 weeks before new teacher trainings for my new 4^th grade position in Hermiston, Oregon. While that sounds all mapped out, I have no idea how any of it will go or what happens once September comes.

But that’s okay.

On my way back from America I had to spend an unexpected night in Addis due to my flight from Dubai leaving 30 minutes late and baggage taking forever to be unloaded. I thought my plans were ruined and rolled eyes as I got caught in a tsunami like downpour without a jacket or umbrella. However, that delay allowed me to watch “The Jungle Book” with friends in a theatre in Addis I didn’t know existed, have dinner with wonderful friends I haven’t seen in months, meet amazing Israelis on my morning flight who showed me new places in Axum, and appreciate being back even more. My plans weren’t followed, but that just allowed God to remind me that He had other ideas for how I would spend my time.

It’s okay to not know everything or have day go as planned. God’s got it covered better than we can fully comprehend. So even when the questions seem to bog us down, we can look around at the constants, like spring coming or God’s guidance, and find peace. 

World Malaria Day 24 April 2016

          When most people think of Africa, they think of HIV/AIDS. While this is a major problem, there is another disease that is affecting the lives of my students, teachers and friends. That is malaria.

Before getting into slightly depressing, but totally realistic, details about malaria in Africa and more specifically Ethiopia, here’s a refresher science course in what malaria is and how it is transmitted.  Malaria starts as a parasite called Plasmodium. While there are five types of these parasites, P. falciparum and P. vivax  are the deadliest.  Infected female Anopheles mosquitoes transmit malaria into humans. Symptoms common to the flu result about 7 days after infected; however, it can cause severe pain and complications rapidly afterwards.

About half of the world’s population (3.2 billion people) are at risk of this disease. Every year 300-500 million people worldwide are infected with malaria. While 95 countries around the world reported malaria transmission in 2015.  Sub Saharan Africa accounts for 88% of malaria cases and 90% of malaria deaths.  A majority of these happen to kids under the age of 5 resulting in it being the leading cause of mortality for this age range. Depending which source is sited, every 30 seconds to every minute a child dies because of malaria.

Malaria first came to Ethiopia in 1950 and now 50 million people are living in high risk areas. It is estimated that 9 million cases will arise annually in Ethiopia. A high risk area is anything at or below 2,200 feet which accounts for about 70% of Ethiopia and where I am at in Selekleka, Tigray. However, only about 20% of children that contract malaria have easy access to treatment.

         Because malaria is such a prominent and pertinent struggle in countries where Peace Corps Volunteers are, April is designated as Malaria Month to encourage volunteers  to educate on this issue in any and all ways they can think of. Instead of just having malaria be a topic covered in the biology textbook, education volunteers find ways to integrate it into their classroom topics. All examples are suddenly related to malaria so that students are presented with the topic in various ways. My 9^th grade students have written acrostic poems, distinguished between facts and opinions, constructed opinions and read prompts themed around malaria to tie in the textbook. Outside of the classroom, I’ve filmed students reading about malaria to construct into a video, distributed 50 bed nets (773 students and teachers wanted them), and provided a program at a nearby kindergarten class.

         Often times the facts about malaria can be daunting and disheartening. The daily pills seem tedious. However, as I looked around my classroom knowing the data, I realized that the students sitting in my room were the survivors. These didn’t die before starting school. Somewhere and sometime they were probably exposed to it at least once, but someone knew to put up a net or walk the hours needed to get to a medical facility. If I educate even a fraction of these students to put up bed nets, limit standing water for mosquito eggs to hatch, use indoor spray, or not to be afraid of a simple malaria test, then their siblings and future children have much better odds of being survivors too.

         It’s remarkable how one little female bug can cause so much distruction. What is also remarkable to how preventable it can be stopped if the resources and knowledge are available.

http://www.ethiodemographyandhealth.org/MedVectoredDiseasesMalaria.pdf

www. Kidshealth.org/en/parents/malaria/html

www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs094/en/

National Malaria Awareness Month:

Personal details of the above events:

Week of April 11-15

Projects with Kindergarteners and Malaria

Kids are universally adorable and fabulous to teach new things to. Especially kids who love being twirled and think that new things are worth energy and effort. On Wednesday (13 April) afternoon my friend Rowanne and I headed to the “O Class” compound with a three-foot mosquito piñata bringing us even more strange looks. We started out by reviewing body parts and attempting to sing “Head, Shoulders Knees and Toes” (in English); however, students aged 3-5 kept wanting to say “birke” instead of knee. I then brought out the piñata and we identified parts of its body. I tried doing a “Head, Body, Wings and Legs” song with them, but it ended up being more of a repeat after me song. Then I had all the kids come to an open area. I was going to be mosquito. If I touched a student they had to stand still and itch until the doctor, the oldest student there, came and gave them medicine. It was suppose to be like freeze tag, but we all just ended up running/buzzing around. Afterwards, we attempted to hang the piñata over the swing set, but the hanger broke so I just held it by the tail as kids took a couple bashes at it. We alternated girl, boy, girl, boy etc till one kid broke the tail off and I could get to the candy to hand them. It was a great afternoon with about 28 little kids.

 9^th Graders and Malaria

While students’ poor behavior prevented any class from getting the mosquito piñata, we still had a short fun week with malaria. On Thursday, we reviewed fact and opinion with malaria themed activities. Students had to read statements and determine if they were fact or opinion. They then had to write two sentences about their opinion about malaria and what will malaria be like after 25 years. At break on Thursday and Friday, we took film of 30 students reading facts about malaria which will be made into a film for National Malaria Day.

April 18-22

Malaria  Net  Distributions

         I had no idea how many people needed mosquito nets (“zanzera”) so decided to have each class report back to me with how many people needed them. Shockingly 773 students and teachers requested nets. After some discussion, we decided that the best way to distribute the 50 bed nets Peace Corps could provide was to do a lottery system in which all names were cut and put in a bag where a teacher would draw them out, one-by-one at the end of the day flag ceremony. On Wednesday, April 20^th, 8 teachers and 17 students received nets. On Thursday, April 21^st, 7 teachers and 13 students received bed nets. Students and teachers in opposite shift are also wanting to do a lottery for their students next month, if supplies are available.

Mosquito  Piñata  with  9B  Students

         As a reward for having the best classroom management and attentiveness to malaria themed events, participating in the reading of malaria facts for the videos, and doing all of it with a smile, I awarded my ninth graders in section B a mosquito piñata (“tantu yakob” in Tigrigna) filled with lollipops. With the help of the vice director we hung the mosquito over one the school’s soccer goal posts so that the mosquito could “fly” up and down. Students were blindfolded to represent mosquitoes mostly coming out at night when it is hard to see them. It was a blast to see them try to break apart the piñata.

Look for a video and blog with all of these activities in it next week for World Malaria Day.

120 Characteristics April 5, 2016

Do you remember the time before Facebook, instagram, snapchat or even myspace? A time when selfies were unheard of, no one knew where you ate a meal, or what your current emotion was. If you wanted to communicate with people you were thankful for t9 on your phones and shocked when touch screens came out expanding how many words you could fit in a message. Emails were around, but not very popular. Stamps were 35cents. Pictures could be attached to an email or printed and mailed in an envelope. How technology has advanced us. Or has it?

I’ll be the first to admit, I was a teenager and college student obsessed with Facebook. I was constantly on it chatting or just doing random things. The Lent of my sophomore year, I gave up Facebook and it was harder than I ever expected it to. Now, I don’t know how I wasted so much time.

On the weekends I can usually go someplace to connect another device to wifi to check email and update photos. I can usually get Facebook on my brick of a phone throughout the week; however, it takes phone birr to log on and send messages. I can’t see people’s pictures or emoticons throughout the week. If I want to post or send anything during the week it has to be less than 120 characteristics (spaces count). I can no longer rant about something or take awhile to get to the point. Many things I want to say, I literally cannot post as a status and take many messages to send to friends and/or family about instead. I can’t “check in” where I just ate or went.

Don’t get me wrong, Facebook is a great website. It allows one to connect with people all over the world and stay up-to-date on the lives of friends, family and celebrities. I wouldn’t have been able to talk with my family as much as I have without it. However, what I wonder about is what is being put on Facebook. I scroll through and realize how many things posted are petty and non-essential. How many things are just shared and liked because the button is so easy to push. Some of my friends seem to share every meal, trip, and emotion. Does that show a dependency on electronic relationship verses personal ones?

How would your Facebook or any online activities change if you had to fit your message into 120 characteristics? That question took 113.

Words are important. Relationships are important. Feeling connected is part of what makes us human. Finding a balance in all of them is important. I will always value you as a friend no matter if you post 129 statuses a month or 3. I am thankful to be your friend if I see 19373 photos of you in a month or none. I want to know what you really think, so choose your words with care and precision.

April = Malaria Awareness Month! 9 April 2016

            While many of you looking forward to raising temperatures and spring flowers fully blooming, Peace Corps volunteers around the world are doing projects to help combat malaria. While I am busy teaching and preparing for a friend to come visit next week, I am also helping do activities focused around malaria education. As this is a huge part of my days, I also thought I would post about the activities here as well so that you can get a glimpse into my life. So here are the malaria related activities and projects I’m working on for the week of April 4-9, 2016.

April 4, 2016: Public announcement about bednets

            Today at flag ceremony, my counterpart and I made an announcement about this month being World Malaria Awareness month and that Peace Corps can get malaria nets for all students that need them. We asked students to talk to families and assigned class monitors to record students who need them nets. Our goal is to get Desalgn, regional manager, a list of names by the end of the week for a demonstration and distribution next week. Talked with at least one G14 health volunteer who is also going to come and help with demonstration and distribution.

April 5, 2016: Class Activity (9A and B): Fact Based Opinions about Malaria

Tying in a fact and opinion section of the Grade 9 textbook, I wrote 10 facts on cards from WHO’s website and Skillz Malaria workbook. For first period in 9A each group of students had to identify what was fact on their cards. They then had to share with the class what the facts were. Finally students wrote a quick letter to me telling me what they know about malaria currently. Over break other teachers and vice director also read the cards and discussed. There was great debate over whether 1,500 malaria cases occur in America was true or false. During 5th period with 9B students and a few 9C students, after reviewing fact and opinions, I asked students to read sentences from malaria cards while classmates had to decide if the card was fact and opinion and why. I then wrote on the board “Malaria is bad,” to start a discussion that while this statement is an opinion it can be fact-based. Students then read cards to find facts that supported this opinion (example: 438,000 people died from malaria in 2015.) Student then wrote a quick letter to me explaining what they know about malaria.

April 6, 2016: Class Activity (9A,B,C): Listening Activity themed around malaria

            For class today I gave the listening section of the skills assessment. Instead of having one of the characters have HIV, I changed it to being about malaria. Afterwards we talked about how we are supposed to treat people with malaria.

April 6, 2016: Piñata Construction    Piñata construction has gotten underway!

April 7: Class Activity (9A,B,C): Writing Acrostic Poem

            For class today, I revamped the poetry section in Unit 10 to include rhyming and acrostic poetry. Students practiced describing Ethiopia and Tigray and then malaria using adjectives and nouns to complete the description.

April 8, 2016: Class Activity (A): Writing Activity themed around malaria

            For 9A’s class today I gave the writing section of the skills assessment, changed to be about malaria. Students had to tell ways of preventing malaria and what are safe ways of staying away from unhealthy skills.

April 8, 2016: Bednet Distribution Update

            Today I was told by our vice director that 773 students had signed up for a mosquito net. Peace Corps was shocked at this , but assured me there wasn’t a way that we could have that many. There are only 300ish for the region with lots of volunteers doing programs. Instead of having a formal distribution, for the next two weeks we are going to have lottery at the end of the day for those that signed up. If there was a miracle and 773 nets could just materialize in Selekleka that would be amazing!!!

April 9, 2016: PINATAS ARE FINISHED!!!!

            I now have two mosquito piñatas finished and ready for kids to smash. Due to being busy and trying to balance lots of things, I’m unsure how many layers finally got on the 3 foot insects, so either kids are going to break it really easily or it is going to take a while. Each bug took three balloons, 3 pipe cleaners, 18 popsicle sticks, 3 toilet paper rolls, 2 black garbage bags, 4 brown paper bags and lots of flour and water. Kindergarteners are going to have a go at one of them on Wednesday and 9th grade students on Friday!

Confession: I am a kid magnet. 5 April 2016

            I do not know when this super power first came to me, but I am pretty sure it doesn’t have anything to do with kryptonite or chemical experiments. I don’t know how to turn off this seemingly magnet field, but am completely sure it is a critical part of who I am. My heart surges, my eyes light up, and, no matter how tired I am, I seem to just draw kids to me.

            Take today for example. Being a holiday I was invited to a teacher’s house for kusme, traditional celebratory food for a Saint’s Day. I went with one other teacher after school. I’ve never been to this teacher’s house and it is in an area of town I don’t venture into often. It is out of my way from most of my things. However, I had barely sat down, when an 18 month old in a white puffy dress waddled over with big brown eyes. She isn’t at an age to speak, but has mastered the customary raising of eyebrows and head for “yes.” It didn’t take long for her to be sitting in my lap. Soon her identical twin sister materialized near my elbow. I have never seen these two beautiful girls before, yet it doesn’t take much more than eye contact for them to come up to me.

            This is not a one-time occurrence.

            I’ve had a kid come up and purposely sit in my lap at a wedding in a different town. Kids always seem to be yelling “Josie” wherever I go, even out to villages in all directions. I’ve made more folded paper cootie catchers on buses here than anywhere else in my whole life. Last weekend while waiting for a volleyball game to start in a town about an hour away, I soon had a group of kids telling me about their school and wanting to try to do exploding fist bumps for the first time. And that is just some of the times that have happened in Ethiopia.

            Some days I roll my eyes and wish I could just walk a block being invisible. But most days I just have to smile and realize that this power also gives me great joy. Joy in remembering children’s innocent, complete trust as they leap off sidewalks to be caught and twirled. Joy that I may not have made any difference in the classroom, but at least some kids still think I am fun. Happiness from their laughter is contagious to instantly make me feel better. Comfort that I am not alone.

            Other teachers laugh too as kids come padding towards me with wide arms for twirls or booooshes (fist bumps). Some comment that they have lived in town much longer than me and none of the kids know their names. Others mention that I am famous and known everywhere. Still others attribute it solely to my white skin.

            I just shrug and let them in on a little secret: Magnets attract to each other. I am one part of the magnet and the kids are another. Together we just kind of come together. They bring happiness and joy. They may have their obnoxious, rude, tiring moments, but they also ask the best questions, radiate with gratitude and know how to see joy in the little moments. I just hope that I can do the same and as long as their eyes continue to light up when they see me, I’ll be happy for my little super gift.

A Normal Normal 28 March 2016

            I just got home from a weekend of meetings in Mekelle. While the objectives of the meetings were primarily to reflect on the last year and half of teaching and propose new ways of improving the Peace Corps education program, we spent a majority of the time pondering the future and how being in Ethiopia has changed or affected us in various ways.

            We, 9 of the 10 remaining G11 Education Volunteers in Tigray (one was in Addis for Medical; but we started with 15 in the area), have been the guinea pigs for the PELLA program. We have been through the trenches of teaching large classes with classroom management conundrums, figuring out how to adequately assess all students through various ways, and of adapting to thrive in a new culture. We’ve been successful and we have failed. But we all recognize that there are only five more months of this life for us. A life that is normal, familiar, and comfortable in many aspects. While we dream of refrigeration, indoor plumbing, and family, we also recognize that it’s going to be hard to leave this normal to go back to America.

            I’ve always known about culture shock. It is in most books written about travel and one of the things blogs of travelers focus on when getting started. Culture shock: the jolt of disorientation one experiences when abruptly being subjected to an unfamiliar environment. The feeling that floods over you when you get out of the airport and into the streets of a new town in a new place drastically different from your normal life. Drinking blood with Maasi, being in a stone city wearing a head scarf to respect the 99.9% Muslim population, having the only white skin and blue eyes for kilometers around, hearing language that is totally unrecognizable, and using a squat toilet are just some of the ways I’ve experienced culture shock around the globe.

            What I am learning more about currently is reverse culture shock. Instead of being disoriented in a new environment, you are suddenly shocked when reentering an old environment you’ve been out of for a while. For example, after my 5 month study abroad trip to Tanzania, it took me weeks to get over the fact that sleeping without a mosquito net was okay, months to overcome an uncertain fear of tap water, and a while to be okay with the vastness of grocery stores. By the time I return to the States for good, I will have been gone 25 months (and a large smidge) with Peace Corps, 5 times as long as my Tanzania study abroad trip. It is going to take a bit to adjust.

            But what that adjustment will look like is pure speculation that is a waste of worry and time.  “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” Matthew 6: 24.  What I do know is that I am currently living in a normal normal. I have adapted and changed. While, I don’t know to what extent or how reverse culture shock is going to affect me, what I want to share is what my normal is so that you, friends and family, know what I’m having to adapt back from. I know I still have five months here, some of these things I have mentioned before in previous blogs, and this topic will probably be raised more than once, but honesty and openness is a key that I continue to use.

            So here is a quick, condensed look at what normal looks like for me. Please note that I am not complaining. I love my life here. I just want you to see how different it is and why being slightly nervous of reverse culture shock is understandable. My brick of a phone doesn’t have emoji, t9, a touch screen or spell check. Every message has to be typed out letter by letter. *804# will let me check my balance while I have to scratch off phone cards to add more to it. I can’t see photos on Facebook and only able to type 120 characters (spaces count) in messages or posts. The government controls the one cell provider so sometimes the network is just shut off.

            I haven’t been behind a wheel of a car for 20 months and 3 weeks. When traveling I don’t get to decide what the radio plays or if the windows are opened. Ethiopians tend to tolerate the heat of a bus to prevent the unscientific fear that air will lead to TB or polio being inflicted upon them. I’ve never been in my own vehicle and always have someone issuing me a ticket to pay. Unable to leave when I want to, I have to wait on the side of the road for a bus to come and hope enough buses connect to get me to my destination safely and on time. While Ethiopia has a high fatality rate of motor accidents, I’ve been blessed to not be in a crash, while other Volunteers have had to overcome severe (but not deadly) crashes. I only wear seatbelts when in Peace Corps’ vehicles and that is about once in a blue moon. We swerve for all animals and honk as people cross without looking first.

            I teach, wearing a long sleeved, white, thick lab coat with a Peace Corps logo on the back and three pockets on the front, to students clad in teal uniforms. Even though it is hot season, they must wear their matching two piece uniforms. We all have to walk at least thirty minutes to school though many have to walk for 2 – 3 hours in various directions. There are no yellow buses or school crossing signs. I have a blackboard and chalk. All other teaching aids must be made by hand and with saved or salvaged materials. There are no printers for worksheets. I rinse off chalk dust caked between my fingers at the end of the day.

            While students have 6-7 classes of 42 minutes a day to take 12 subjects a year, we shift between morning and afternoon. One week my classes go between 8am-12:30pm while the next they start at 12:42pm and go until 5:09pm. Teachers rotate throughout rooms while students remain in the same seats. Students sit in wooden benches usually at least two, but sometimes three or four to the 3’ bench of a seat.

            Listening is the gateway to a new life. I spend much more of my time listening than actually communicating with anyone. While I am much better at Tigrigna, I am no where near perfect. When I do speak in English, I have to slow down and simplify my English to direct sentences. Being around native English speakers, I was shocked at the speed at which others and I can communicate and yet feel like I am in a weird time warp. Some things I always respond with in Tigrigna even when people ask me in English (example time).

            While my watch and phone both tell the time, they appear to be six hours different. Not only do I need to keep track of two or three languages, but also have become familiar with a new way to tell time. Ethiopians still work on a 12 hour  cycles to the day, they just start counting from when they traditionally wake up at six. So our seven o’clock is read as 1:00, 8 o’clock is 2, 9:15 is 3:15 and so forth. I also know that if someone sets a meeting for 2 he or she may be there by 2:30. Time is flexible and adaptable. There is no rush as the day is meant to be enjoyed and relaxed. Besides tracking the present time where I am, I’m also constantly conscious of what time it is in the Oregon and Washington and whether or not friends will be awake to message on Facebook.

            Habits are quick to form. Taking malaria medicine and tucking in my mosquito net are second nature. I put sunscreen on in the morning and have cold water bucket rinses in the evening to get off all the dirt. My hair is washed on Saturdays. Water is monitored and stored. I try to always have some filtered which I drink at room temperature. I wear one outfit for a week and do laundry when water allows.

            Knees and shoulders are covered at all times. Time can be told by the mosque and church calls on crackling speakers, as well as, assuring us that power is out when unexpected quiet lasts a while. Wednesdays and Fridays most of my friends are fasting –eating vegan style, but now that it is Lent the fasting

last every day for 55 days. Buying groceries and coal only on Saturdays makes me think about what I will eat for the week. Oil is rationed and only available for about a liter a month. Cockroaches crawl about even when I spray, and I’m constantly flicking away flies. The rounds of coffee ceremony are second nature with cups as small as some children’s tea sets. The post office is rarely open and usually mail is delivered from Shire about once a week or every other week.

            Then there are all the things that are unexpected but loved. The amount of kids with arms wide open varies like the formation of clouds. When on a walk you may be called to go to a Christening or a memorial service or both on the same day. When offered a plastic plate at an event you never really know how much berbere, hot spice, is going to be in the dish being ladled. When walking home you may be called into a coffee ceremony and not leave till hours later. On a mini bus you may start a conversation with someone who has been to America or has never heard of it. Teachers pull out dama, checkers, boards during break with soda pop tops used as pieces (one player’s face up and one player’s face down). Your landlady brings you a piece of fresh bread while you are cleaning your room.

            I love eating injera and various dishes with my hands. I love seeing camels and laughing when chickens cross the road. I start to shoulder dance when music is played. This life is familiar, comfortable, home. The last 18 months and 8 days have been a blessing. The next 5 months will hold more sunshine and troubles. But I will continue to hold on to this normal until the next normal comes around.