Saturday, March 27, 2010

March 27, 2010

Today is Saturday, and I have been here one week. Alyssa and Linda are not coming until Sunday. I’m really disappointed. I am sleeping fairly well, but when I wake up I am so stiff I can hardly sit up. The beds do not have box springs, so the mattresses just lay on boards set up across the bed frame. There are no pillow top mattresses here, darn it. My pillow was so hard, that I had to undo the seams and pull out some of the stuffing inside. You don’t want to know what was inside. I sewed it back up and now I can sleep better. It was just too stiff and too full. Yesterday on Friday, I cleaned in our house that is being built. We moved our bed and bedroom furniture into the bedroom so Alan and I slept there last night.

A few things I have to write about that are just plain different than at home. One: Picking your nose in public, is OK. These people here pick their noses. You can be talking to someone and they will just start picking their nose. I don’t know if that’s common elsewhere in Ethiopia, or we just have lower standards out here on the farm. Two: Our workers don’t have personal boundaries and don’t think you should have any either. They will come right up to you and stand next too you and sometimes lean on you. OK, I do know some girls at home that love to squeeze up next to me, but these girls love to put their hands on me. They will stand in front of me and the next thing I know, I’m getting groped. This happens a lot. Yesterday, Birka, stood in front of me and started feeling up and down my chest, hips, and waist. She got her hands on my breasts and squeezed me a little, and then squeezed the fat pockets around my hips. Then as she squeezed my fat she said, “Shelley, whot is dees?” It all happened so fast, I couldn’t stop her. I just stood there and then I laughed and said, “Dees is mai Faat, Leev it alone.” Three: They spit, hock, and make other terrible sounds that make me cringe. It is very normal for them. Four: There doesn’t seem to be any sharing. As Clair said, “If you give them something to hold or share, don’t expect to get it back, it’s theirs.” They love to drink out of my water bottle, and I have a big problem with that.” I’m just concerned about health and sanitation. Five: They don’t get our humor. This is not a problem, except for Alan. Alan thinks it’s funny to tease them, and they don’t think he’s funny, they think he’s not very bright. For example: yesterday there was a large group of workers with Alan and Wubishet, a mechanic ,took off toward the outhouse. Alan hollered at him, ”Wubishet, where are you going?” thinking it would embarrass Wubishet. All the workers looked at Alan and said, “He’s going to the toilet! where you think?” Alan still thought it was pretty funny, just because they all thought he was clueless.

Yesterday afternoon, Alan and I looked over the house. The tiling job was, by American standards, a mess. The grout work was bad. We pulled up several tiles and put them in again. We regrouted most of the hallway. I was frustrated at their standard of work. Then I had to remember, most of these people that we have doing these things, have never done these jobs before. They are learning now how to tile and grout and cook American food, and sweep and mop and do laundry. This is all new to them. They are as good as I would be if I had to go and make a stick house with sticks, mud, manure, and water and cook injera three times a day. I don’t think my house would stand up to their inspection and I don’t think they would want to eat my injera. As an American in Ethiopia, I have to learn how to relax and be less judgmental. We are visitors in their land and we’re not going to change their culture. Hopefully, we can teach them some new tricks and introduce some of what’s good about Americans to them. I knew coming into this that I was not going to change the way they eat, clean, and live. It is up to them, if they want to change. I have seen more this week than I would ever have believed, and today I saw more than I did all week, if that makes sense. Alan and I went to Beltu, which is a city about 14 kilometers north of here. It is situated at a higher altitude and honestly a few hundred feet up makes a lot of difference. It was so green up at Beltu. Beltu has about 3,000 people with no electricity and no running water. The well is situated down the road, off the hill and is a little hands pump. Everyone has to walk down the hill to pump their water. I knew Beltu was going to be crazy, because everyone had warned me that the Americans get mobbed when they go there, so I was prepared with my camera to get pics. We went to buy potatoes, eggs, carrots, water, buckets, and soda pop. When we drove into the village, there were many children who started to shout "Forenjees, forenjees!" and they chased us through the city. The city was probably no more than five by five Ashton city blocks, and all those people live there. We drove to the main area of the city which has a bus stop and a restaurant. We had Nahom our translator, Danny a driver from Addis, Birka my maid, Wubishet a mechanic, and one other guy with us. We dropped off Birka, Wubishet, and the other guy, and kept Danny and Nahom with us. By the way, the girls who work for us as maids are from Beltu, and are from a tribe around here. The John Deere tractor drivers are from somewhere else a different tribe and don’t like to associate with the tribes from around here. Nahom and Danny are from Addis and both speak English and they went with us to the restaurant. We were getting mobbed when we got out of the Land Cruiser and went into the restaurant yard. The children were yelling and screaming and they came into the yard, but the owner shooed them away. We sat down outside at a small table and chairs and Nahom ordered for us. We had the Goat Variety plate, which means goat, very spicey beans, potatoes, and rice all served on a large pizza plate of injera. No forks, just tear off the injera and use it to eat all the other stuff. At first,I was a little nervous eating out of the same dish as everyone, but then I thought I can do this, I will do this and prove to these guys that I am not a weenie. The injera was not really very sour, and so it went down easily, the potatoes were great and so was the rice. The beans were a little spicey, but no more than what Mexican food is at home. The goat was pretty tastey, and it was not tibbs, but just a couple of pieces of goat leg. I was pleasantly surprised that I enjoyed it. The owner brought us some coca-cola, and I just slurped it down. I I think of it as medicinal. After we ate we had to go buy soda pop and buckets. Everywhere we stopped we were mobbed, not just children, but adults came too to stare at me. I got pinched and got my hair pulled, but it was all out of curiosity. I have to remember, that these people have never had this experience before, and I am like an alien that has suddenly landed in their village. When we left, I drove. It was a little confusing to get back, but now I think I could, if I had to, get to Beltu on my own. Not that I ever would go on my own, but I would, if I had to.

The burn baby and the other little girls have not been here for two days. I hope they are al right. I don’t know where they are.

I just read my emails from home and friends. It is so good to hear from all of you. Please keep writing to me, and those of you who haven’t , well, it would be great to hear from you. I just skyped Sara and and Andrew. It is so good to see you and talk to you. Tomorrow is Sunday and I’m looking forward to church, seeing Alyssa and her mom, and cooler temperatures