Today, when you plop your bottom onto a toilet I want you to be thankful for every cosmic movement in this universe that has thus allowed you the luxury of sitting down to relieve yourself.
It has been about a week since my arrival in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
It might as well be a lifetime.
How do I start to describe this miniature lifetime within a lifetime?
From the beginning of the beginning I guess.
WARNING: THIS IS AN EXTREMELY LENGTHY POST. I AM TRYING TO MAKE UP FOR A WEEK'S ABSENCE. IF YOU ARE THE TYPE THAT IS BORED EASILY PLEASE PROCEED TO ENGAGE IN THE OFFERINGS OF YOUR SMART PHONE AS I WILL NOT BE OFFENDED IF YOU ONLY FEIGN INTEREST/ATTENTION AT THIS PARTICULAR POST.
So on May 12, 2012, my eager 18 year old self finally got my stuff together and headed towards Hartsfield Jackson. After a hasty goodbye to the family, I found myself in a most unpleasant, heated exchange with the baggage checkers. It started like this: They took apart my delicate purse handle. Completely unnecessary by all counts. They then proceeded to stop me and manually open my laptop case and treat my fragile laptop like a bomb. Sprinkled in between is me frantically whisper shouting for the man to please for the love of God be more gentle with my belongings.
*Side note
A list of the people I would most want to dunk in a volcano
Baggage checkers
Gynecologists
Dentists
Salesmen
So, after this bump in the road I uneventfully boarded the plane. It was very nice. Through some luck with the airplane gods I got promoted to the front of the economy seats. Leg room like no other.
Brief run down of semi eventful ride to Ethiopia
Excitedly hoard all postcards offered on plane.
Get bored.
Take advantage of free cheap wine.
Watch confusing movie which turned out to be in French.
Got off in Frankfurt, Germany.
Buy scandalously overpriced water. 3 and a half euros! I could start my own taxi company in Ethiopia with what I had to fork over for a quarter of a liter of water...
Terminal changed, unbeknownst to me.
Thirty minutes to take off: Panic attack ensues.
Frantically run to other side of airport.
Board plane.
Crying babies everywhere.
More cheap wine.
Meal with hidden pine nuts. Which I am deathly allergic to.
Panic Attack Number 2 of the day ensues.
Resemble crack addict as I desperately pop some benadryls.
Cute boy across the aisle looking on in shock/possible revulsion as I frantically spit out food.
Hazy period of my life..........
Awaken to find that we are descending in KHARTOUM, SUDAN.
Completely shocked.
How do I describe Sudan?
Khartoum was honestly a little frightening. Everything had this dusty post-apocalyptic glaze. No colors as far as the eye can see. Just this khaki color. No human beings in sight. No cars. Maybe one other plane.
Intercom system goes off: "We are stopping in Khartoum now. If this is your final destination please collect your belongings now."
No one gets off the plane.
"Pictures are not allowed in the airport."
Two hours of forbidding silence ensue before we leave.
I'm still not totally sure why we stopped in Sudan. Presumably to refuel.
On wards!
Adorable toddler screaming like a banshee.
Decreases adorable factor.
Mother delegates me as babysitter/clown/entertainer of the baby.
This is okay with me. I teach the baby peek a boo and other such nonsensical baby things.
Finally descend upon ETHIOPIA: CITY ON FIRE.
Let me explain.
I did not know at the time but Ethiopia is composed on subtle hills.
Since it was nighttime, the city's street lamps were all lit and Ethiopia looked like this endless black velvet blanket sparkling in lights.
Completely breathtaking.
Collect baggage. Side skirt the baggage checking. No one stops me. No one cares.
Meet up with two Aiesec Ethiopia members.
Haggle with taxi drivers.
Head towards my condomonium/home for the next 3 months.
Dream of Ethiopia as an advanced "Shanghai of Africa" completely crushed.
What I mistook for a city on fire was actually very minimal lighting for such a sprawling capital city. On our drive the only lights came from the streets. It was only 10 P.M.
Bring bags up to condo in complete darkness.
The darkness really hits you in Ethiopia. This is the capital city too, so you can only imagine what it must be like in the country. It's a darkness that attacks quickly at 7 pm every night and completely fills in the spaces between shops and main streets.
I digress.
So, I meet my five other roommates. Two are from Kenya and one is from Indonesia and one is from America. All friendly. All healthy.
The juicy gory details: I step into the "restroom" and find myself in a perpetual lake. There is no drain on the floor and the shower is open. So anytime someone wants to shower they must manually scoop water off the floor and back into the shower.
Venture nervously across lake.
Behold THE TOILET.
The toilet really deserves its own blog post and if you are still reading and you are of the sensitive stomach type I would not read the next paragraph.
Our toilet has no seat. Someone broke it earlier and the other interns have not been bothered. There is no flushing mechanism. You must manually fill a bucket twice or sometimes three times and pour into the toilet in order to flush.
Since the first day I have endlessly campaigned for Aiesec Ethiopia to fix up the bathroom to little avail.
Simply put, the others have adapted and I am expected to do the same.
I'm sure in two months I will not even think about it but for now a feeling of horror passes over me every time I enter the bathroom.
Oh by the way, our doors don't close. There are no lights in the bathroom or kitchen and now we are prohibited from using the sink because it is leaking quite profusely.
There is no internet for miles. In part this explains my inability to blog often.
I begin to mentally breakdown on the inside.
I go to sleep and dream of toilets that night.
END DAY ONE.
So after a slightly traumatic start, I am really growing accustomed to Ethiopia but quite frankly it is the most difficult living situation I have ever been in.\
FUN FACTS:
The national language is Amharic which I don't speak. I only know the phrases necessary for deterring strangers and for haggling.
Everyone is so kind. Ethiopian hospitality puts Southern hospitality to shame. Complete strangers will help you when you are lost. They will literally walk you to the right taxi even if it is a kilometer away.
The food is amazing. Everything is relatively cheap due to the exchange, but be careful what you eat. I have had a downright miserable last three days after eating some bad injera which is their traditional dish.
The main mode of transportation for Ethiopians and cheap foreigners like me is the minibus system. This is a nightmarish maze of tiny vans that people will squeeze onto past seemingly physical capacity. There are no street names, no addresses. Only common stops for these buses. The taxi driver maneuvers the lane less streets while a boy or teenager shouts out the next stop to the people waiting outside. To get to most places you need to take around 3 taxis and God help you if you don't know which stop to go to next.
The street is a pedestrian trap. There are few crossings, no lights. It's an absolute free for all. Vehicles don't stop for you so you have to be careful. I've already had a taxi brush my jacket as it rumbled by.
Montage of Humorous Short Stories Depicting how Chigarumn I am
The other Aiesecers here are wonderful. They are mostly Ethiopian male students in college. They call me Ms. Cheapness or in Ethiopian , Ms. Chigarumn. I am really quite proud of how cheap I am. I have to survive three months on 60 dollars a month. Of course I am going to be stingy. In the National Ethiopian Museum I tried to convince the security that I was Ethiopian so I should only have to pay 2 birr, not the 10 birr a foreigner must pay. (1 dollar=17 birr) My Ethiopian friends laugh and laugh at this.
I smuggle toilet paper from the nicer hotels. My Ethiopian friends also laugh at this.
I haggled for an hour to get a cheaper taxi one night. The security of the hotel I just exited from was laughing at me. His friend came up and tried to tell me that my asking price was most unreasonable. With both of them cackling at me I only grew more stubborn. Finally, out of pity, they had to haggle with the taxi in their language (Amharic) in order for me to get a cheaper taxi.
...
So in sum, I am having the roller coaster ride of my life.
I will post more about the project itself later, but basically I am creating events and looking for partnerships/sponsors to promote this school Fresh and Green and its kids and their mothers.
Ethiopia is crazy. But it is the kind of crazy that grows on you. Sure, the infrastructure is insane and the accommodations are a Western nightmare, but you can't help but totally love Ethiopia. You realize how much you used to take for granted. Materialistic attitudes come here to die. The people are so carefree and wonderful, you begin to wonder why you bother to stress at all.
So here's to three months of new experiences like no other. To making lasting friendships. To changing a little pocket of the world.
May I not get hit by a taxi and live to see it.
It has been about a week since my arrival in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
It might as well be a lifetime.
How do I start to describe this miniature lifetime within a lifetime?
From the beginning of the beginning I guess.
WARNING: THIS IS AN EXTREMELY LENGTHY POST. I AM TRYING TO MAKE UP FOR A WEEK'S ABSENCE. IF YOU ARE THE TYPE THAT IS BORED EASILY PLEASE PROCEED TO ENGAGE IN THE OFFERINGS OF YOUR SMART PHONE AS I WILL NOT BE OFFENDED IF YOU ONLY FEIGN INTEREST/ATTENTION AT THIS PARTICULAR POST.
So on May 12, 2012, my eager 18 year old self finally got my stuff together and headed towards Hartsfield Jackson. After a hasty goodbye to the family, I found myself in a most unpleasant, heated exchange with the baggage checkers. It started like this: They took apart my delicate purse handle. Completely unnecessary by all counts. They then proceeded to stop me and manually open my laptop case and treat my fragile laptop like a bomb. Sprinkled in between is me frantically whisper shouting for the man to please for the love of God be more gentle with my belongings.
*Side note
A list of the people I would most want to dunk in a volcano
Baggage checkers
Gynecologists
Dentists
Salesmen
So, after this bump in the road I uneventfully boarded the plane. It was very nice. Through some luck with the airplane gods I got promoted to the front of the economy seats. Leg room like no other.
Brief run down of semi eventful ride to Ethiopia
Excitedly hoard all postcards offered on plane.
Get bored.
Take advantage of free cheap wine.
Watch confusing movie which turned out to be in French.
Got off in Frankfurt, Germany.
Buy scandalously overpriced water. 3 and a half euros! I could start my own taxi company in Ethiopia with what I had to fork over for a quarter of a liter of water...
Terminal changed, unbeknownst to me.
Thirty minutes to take off: Panic attack ensues.
Frantically run to other side of airport.
Board plane.
Crying babies everywhere.
More cheap wine.
Meal with hidden pine nuts. Which I am deathly allergic to.
Panic Attack Number 2 of the day ensues.
Resemble crack addict as I desperately pop some benadryls.
Cute boy across the aisle looking on in shock/possible revulsion as I frantically spit out food.
Hazy period of my life..........
Awaken to find that we are descending in KHARTOUM, SUDAN.
Completely shocked.
How do I describe Sudan?
Khartoum was honestly a little frightening. Everything had this dusty post-apocalyptic glaze. No colors as far as the eye can see. Just this khaki color. No human beings in sight. No cars. Maybe one other plane.
Intercom system goes off: "We are stopping in Khartoum now. If this is your final destination please collect your belongings now."
No one gets off the plane.
"Pictures are not allowed in the airport."
Two hours of forbidding silence ensue before we leave.
I'm still not totally sure why we stopped in Sudan. Presumably to refuel.
On wards!
Adorable toddler screaming like a banshee.
Decreases adorable factor.
Mother delegates me as babysitter/clown/entertainer of the baby.
This is okay with me. I teach the baby peek a boo and other such nonsensical baby things.
Finally descend upon ETHIOPIA: CITY ON FIRE.
Let me explain.
I did not know at the time but Ethiopia is composed on subtle hills.
Since it was nighttime, the city's street lamps were all lit and Ethiopia looked like this endless black velvet blanket sparkling in lights.
Completely breathtaking.
Collect baggage. Side skirt the baggage checking. No one stops me. No one cares.
Meet up with two Aiesec Ethiopia members.
Haggle with taxi drivers.
Head towards my condomonium/home for the next 3 months.
Dream of Ethiopia as an advanced "Shanghai of Africa" completely crushed.
What I mistook for a city on fire was actually very minimal lighting for such a sprawling capital city. On our drive the only lights came from the streets. It was only 10 P.M.
Bring bags up to condo in complete darkness.
The darkness really hits you in Ethiopia. This is the capital city too, so you can only imagine what it must be like in the country. It's a darkness that attacks quickly at 7 pm every night and completely fills in the spaces between shops and main streets.
I digress.
So, I meet my five other roommates. Two are from Kenya and one is from Indonesia and one is from America. All friendly. All healthy.
The juicy gory details: I step into the "restroom" and find myself in a perpetual lake. There is no drain on the floor and the shower is open. So anytime someone wants to shower they must manually scoop water off the floor and back into the shower.
Venture nervously across lake.
Behold THE TOILET.
The toilet really deserves its own blog post and if you are still reading and you are of the sensitive stomach type I would not read the next paragraph.
Our toilet has no seat. Someone broke it earlier and the other interns have not been bothered. There is no flushing mechanism. You must manually fill a bucket twice or sometimes three times and pour into the toilet in order to flush.
Since the first day I have endlessly campaigned for Aiesec Ethiopia to fix up the bathroom to little avail.
Simply put, the others have adapted and I am expected to do the same.
I'm sure in two months I will not even think about it but for now a feeling of horror passes over me every time I enter the bathroom.
Oh by the way, our doors don't close. There are no lights in the bathroom or kitchen and now we are prohibited from using the sink because it is leaking quite profusely.
There is no internet for miles. In part this explains my inability to blog often.
I begin to mentally breakdown on the inside.
I go to sleep and dream of toilets that night.
END DAY ONE.
So after a slightly traumatic start, I am really growing accustomed to Ethiopia but quite frankly it is the most difficult living situation I have ever been in.\
FUN FACTS:
The national language is Amharic which I don't speak. I only know the phrases necessary for deterring strangers and for haggling.
Everyone is so kind. Ethiopian hospitality puts Southern hospitality to shame. Complete strangers will help you when you are lost. They will literally walk you to the right taxi even if it is a kilometer away.
The food is amazing. Everything is relatively cheap due to the exchange, but be careful what you eat. I have had a downright miserable last three days after eating some bad injera which is their traditional dish.
The main mode of transportation for Ethiopians and cheap foreigners like me is the minibus system. This is a nightmarish maze of tiny vans that people will squeeze onto past seemingly physical capacity. There are no street names, no addresses. Only common stops for these buses. The taxi driver maneuvers the lane less streets while a boy or teenager shouts out the next stop to the people waiting outside. To get to most places you need to take around 3 taxis and God help you if you don't know which stop to go to next.
The street is a pedestrian trap. There are few crossings, no lights. It's an absolute free for all. Vehicles don't stop for you so you have to be careful. I've already had a taxi brush my jacket as it rumbled by.
Montage of Humorous Short Stories Depicting how Chigarumn I am
The other Aiesecers here are wonderful. They are mostly Ethiopian male students in college. They call me Ms. Cheapness or in Ethiopian , Ms. Chigarumn. I am really quite proud of how cheap I am. I have to survive three months on 60 dollars a month. Of course I am going to be stingy. In the National Ethiopian Museum I tried to convince the security that I was Ethiopian so I should only have to pay 2 birr, not the 10 birr a foreigner must pay. (1 dollar=17 birr) My Ethiopian friends laugh and laugh at this.
I smuggle toilet paper from the nicer hotels. My Ethiopian friends also laugh at this.
I haggled for an hour to get a cheaper taxi one night. The security of the hotel I just exited from was laughing at me. His friend came up and tried to tell me that my asking price was most unreasonable. With both of them cackling at me I only grew more stubborn. Finally, out of pity, they had to haggle with the taxi in their language (Amharic) in order for me to get a cheaper taxi.
...
So in sum, I am having the roller coaster ride of my life.
I will post more about the project itself later, but basically I am creating events and looking for partnerships/sponsors to promote this school Fresh and Green and its kids and their mothers.
Ethiopia is crazy. But it is the kind of crazy that grows on you. Sure, the infrastructure is insane and the accommodations are a Western nightmare, but you can't help but totally love Ethiopia. You realize how much you used to take for granted. Materialistic attitudes come here to die. The people are so carefree and wonderful, you begin to wonder why you bother to stress at all.
So here's to three months of new experiences like no other. To making lasting friendships. To changing a little pocket of the world.
May I not get hit by a taxi and live to see it.
Dear Alice,
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you're having a good time in Ethiopia, even though the accommodations are a Western nightmare. I hope you're feeling better, and I hope you don't get hit by a taxi either!
Aashka
PS. This post just made my day. I could imagine you reading the entire thing out loud. Haha.
I miss you. prz come back into my life. after aug 7th.
ReplyDeleteHi Alice!
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear that you made the trip! You're are going to have such a wonderful time. Is there an address I can send you mail at? I'de love to send you some letters if I can.
Keep in touch and stay safe,
Nic
Oh nic I wish!! We don't really have any addresses or streets here for that matter haha
ReplyDeleteI think you can send to the University and they will forward to me but it could be pricey :/
I miss you all so much! I'll be back before you know it. Hope your summers are super duper. Eat lots of junk for me.