Mar 31
Happy 96th birthday (yesterday) papa joe!! I cannot help but think about the great train ride K and I had this time last year, and the wonderful party celebrating my grandpa’s 95th birthday. As much as I love it here these days, it is hard to be away from all of you.
So much to tell you about! First, a few days ago we had a school field trip to the beach in Berbera. How excited was I!! As I told the kids, that day was better than carving papayas on Halloween.
During my previous two trips to the beach, 99% of the people on the beach were males. The few females I did see were dressed in long dresses and most had a head scarf on in the water. Literally, this has been 4 females, keep in mind. On our field trip, we had the sophomores/ form IIs. This was 35 or so boys and 9 girls. One other teacher and I had the girls, and two male teachers took the boys. I LOVED spending all day with the girls, but given my background, I was really sad not to teach them all to swim, and I was bummed not to have been able to show those boys up in the water (great to know I still have this inner instinct to want to one-up high school boys in physical activities. I think it is so much more evident here because they really believe women cannot do anything physical, and because none of them are nearly as strong as they think they are- I’d easily take them in the water).
The girls- only one had been in the water before, and over half of them were scared to death, literall, to go in past their ankles! One thing they were happy to do was uncover their hair and strip down to shorts and tank tops. Hedonism Somali style. There was a LOT of separation between the genders, so the girls were able to let loose. Perfect!
As we entered the water, one girl literally had every limb wrapped around my body like an octopus, and my hands each lost feeling from others squeezing them so hard. Oh boy, we were in for a long day….
Three awesome things about these girls: 1) they trusted me and the other teacher; 2) they were willing to go in the water; and 3) they are very smart. Starting with the later, when I asked if they center of gravity was more stabilizing when kneeling in the water or standing, they all knelt. When talking about relaxing to float, which floated better, a ball or something covering more surface area, they made their bodies tall and spread out. It is very easy to teach smart, willing, trusting people. After 15 or 20 minutes, most of the girls had relaxed, put their faces in, and were starting to learn to let the waves lift them up, and put them back down- let the waves move you, don’t fight it. One girl literally and very intentionally opened her mouth to take a gulp of the sea water to taste it. A full mouthful! She swished, swallowed a little, made a face and spit the rest back into the sea. I love the experiential nature of her approach to education! One other girl, a VERY quiet one, squealed all morning long. I mean squealed! A squeal, some giggling, then a longer and louder squeal, then giggling. This continued for hours. How can you not love that! She made more sounds at the beach than I have heard her make in six months of being her teacher.
At this point, we are all comfortable in the water and on our own. One wanted to swim swim, some were wanted to learn to dive under the waves, and some were happy just the way they were. Until…… goggles. There are so many things that I take for granted. Goggles being the least of them. But goggles! They put the goggles on, put their heads in, then popped up, wide eyed and shaking, exclaiming “Oh my god!! Oh my god!!” Then their heads went back under, then more shaking and exclamations “This is AMAZING!!”A whole new world was opened up for them- one they have barely read about, rarely took note of on the tv, and never dreamed about exploring on their own.
Talk about a great day! The girls put themselves in a vulnerable situation, pushed through everything inside of them that was saying ‘stay on shore,’ and I believe their lives have been changed. Water safety is so important, let alone doing something their society looks down upon, and discovering the fabulousness of the underwater world that brings me so much pleasure. I am so proud of them!
That was Tuesday. Wed, the form IIs were useless in class. Physical exhaustion in teenagers- it was great!
Tuesday evening, in the library, I had many one-on-ones with students. First, was one of my advisees. He is fabulous. We literally meet 3 or 4 times a week. Sometimes about school, sometimes just so we can chat about racism in the US (his is so curious about this!). He is great. Then, the student going to America next year wanted to check in. Long story short, one boy was choosen to go to Worchester Academy next year, all expenses paid. You all will meet him over winter break, as I promised him that he’d spread winter break with me. He wanted to know more about America- is there anything he should be aware of or cultural differences that were okay here, but not okay in America. “Yes. The Somali whistle is not okay in the US.” The Somali whistle: I first learned about this in the library one day during class. Six boys proceeded to whistle at me and try to teach me how to do this. First you make the peace sign. Now turn your hand toward you and attempt to whistle by blowing between those two fingers. I held it together, mostly, in the library on that first day, but I am not about to let M come to the states thinking this is okay! He asked why that was bad. I replied I was not ready to explain that to him yet, but he should trust me on that one. If anyone has any suggestions….
Keeping on this same topic, sort of, R is for sure one of our more pious and conservative students. At least, he is the loudest about his beliefs. And he hates girls. Doesn’t think they should exist. He comes to me seeking help on his book report for English class. The book is called ‘My Secret Boyfriend” and is all about a girl going through puberty more slowly than her friends. “I could wear postage stamps for a bra and no one would notice.” She invents a boyfriend to keep up with the summer romances her friends experienced. I thought we screened the library and took all of these books out of there?!? He is reading this section out loud to me, asking about vocab words like ‘murmur’ and ‘glimpse.’ I was waiting for questions about ‘curves’ and ‘breasts.’ We kept on topic, talking about narrator and plot. On the one hand, why me??? But then again, I am very happy to know that R will be very in-tune with how teenage girls are feeling once he stops the uber-conservative façade, and he gets old enough that society actually lets boys and girls talk to each other.
Joys of secondary boarding school. I love every minute!!
Today, April 1st, one of the girls came into the office wanting to play a trick on one of the male teachers. After some discussion, we cut a heart out of a piece of paper and she proceeded to write him a very cheesey love note. We taped this to his computer. About an hour later, he comes in, reads it, and says “Um, this is different.” I innocently start to ask questions, and he gets a little more shaky as he walks over to show it to me. I ask him if he notices anything unique about it. “I notice a lot of unique things about it!” “Look at the first letter of each line, I advise him.” She had spelled ‘April Fools’ down the page. He almost died! For a good two minutes afterwards, he could not talk. Kenai tried to ask what was the matter, and he just said ‘not now.’ She got him so good! She said anytime she wanted to do something sneaky, she was going to come to me.
Love these kids and my job. Yet, I am not renewing any contracts. I will be in Chicago in August, and driving back cross country sometime in the middle or end of the month, depending on my job situation. K is doing very well here (he wants to stay to learn Arabic and Somali better so he can then teach it to all of his friends) and so am I, but there are some administrative hurdles that seem to be getting higher instead of easier as time goes on. I do not hide my emotions all that well, and another year of it would not be healthy for me, or the school. More details to come as I start a job search and figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
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TIA- This week, at one point we had no refrigeration, no water, and no cooking gas. We now have gas, but water if VERY limited (no showers for anyone, including the teenage boys) and there is no sign of refrigeration any time soon. It is weird, but I am not too phased by this. We are in a developing world country going through a drought. And there is still bottled water for drinking. If there was no drinking water, I may feel differently. You would think those three things are essential for a normal life, but really, they are luxuries. We are very much surviving without them and all is great. Besides, one more week and I am on the spring break trip of a lifetime! (Somaliland to Kenya to South Africa (just an overnight) to Zimbabwe to Botswana back to South Africa (overnight) to Tanzania and home to Somaliland. WooHoo!!)
Monday, April 4, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
update
Feb 22nd
Long time no update.
Life is good! I am on campus a lot more this term, I have a routine that has stuck for nearly six weeks now, and I like it. I’m teaching all of the students reading comprehension and some writing, in a 20 minute class period. Five kids, 20 minutes. Classes start at 7a each morning. Even though I skew early, to be up and in class and perky by 7a, that is not great. Our cook, Nihmo, makes ‘fancy coffee’ in an Italian percolator in the mornings for two of the teachers. I am finally part of the ‘in’ crowd and I now get fancy coffee in the mornings.
The kids are a lot of fun. With the small format, I get more quality time with them and get to know them a bit. I’d still rather be a ‘real’ teacher and teach math or science, but this module thing is good. My Somali is ever improving too. I have progressed from ‘sit in a circle and be quiet’ to key phrases like ‘shake your bootie.’ Very useful!
Football with the girls (soccer) is super fun. They are not your traditional team by any means, but they have come a long way nonetheless. There are about 8 girls that play regularly. Others come occasionally, but I have yet to field a full team. They are running more/ I have figured out drills that force running, and the passing is better (short distances at least), and they are not afraid of the ball. Offsides is a foreign concept, and our goalie is legitimately good! Kenai plays with us too. He loves it and the girls love it. The kid is tough! He will be a force to be reckoned with when he grows a bit. I’ve also taken on the running club. I’ve been running a lot here, and mostly safely lately. I am trying to get up to 30K a week. Most weeks Im at about 25 over the course of four days. There are 8 kids that run too. I just log the runs and we chat about once a month about how we are doing. I wish there were some races we could participate in. Someday I will organize one for the school, inshallah.
Kenai is thriving these days. There are 12 new chicks on campus and he loves trying to catch them (see his blog post, How to Catch a Chick). He’s declared himself the best chick catcher on campus. Ha! His math tutor gave him a pre-algebra book today. Kenai loves it! He is reading it for fun. A student asked me today if all the kids in America were as smart as Kenai. I think the student was worried about his competition for applying for universities in the states.
Not much else to report. We have a four day weekend this weekend. We are not yet 24 hours out of classes and I have received two emails and three phone calls from the students. In addition to running into one in town. They are spoiled by the personal attention! I do love it though. I think it is very rare for the teachers to take an interest in the students, both in the classroom and definitely outside of the classroom. The boarding school fosters a closeness too that is more of family than not. It is nice to see the kids grow, think about things differently, not be afraid to express themselves, and to really do well academically. Especially the older students (sophomores), to hear their stories about having all these white people as teachers is amusing- the accents, assignments, and style of teaching.
Many of these things Im think I’d find in most boarding schools, even most schools. Yet, I am not so sure. There is a certain watchful eye many of the students have over us. They are protective when we are in town. It’s like they are the teachers then. There was a board meeting last week and I had my fancy scarf on, and my ‘nice clothes’ from the states. The girls helped to dress me, and one of the not-so-well-behaved boys (he had a suspension for the first two weeks of the semester) commented on how nice I looked- very Somali. The kids and seem to enjoy having all the teachers and Kenai around. Im glad to be spending more time with them these days. Life is pretty good right now.
Long time no update.
Life is good! I am on campus a lot more this term, I have a routine that has stuck for nearly six weeks now, and I like it. I’m teaching all of the students reading comprehension and some writing, in a 20 minute class period. Five kids, 20 minutes. Classes start at 7a each morning. Even though I skew early, to be up and in class and perky by 7a, that is not great. Our cook, Nihmo, makes ‘fancy coffee’ in an Italian percolator in the mornings for two of the teachers. I am finally part of the ‘in’ crowd and I now get fancy coffee in the mornings.
The kids are a lot of fun. With the small format, I get more quality time with them and get to know them a bit. I’d still rather be a ‘real’ teacher and teach math or science, but this module thing is good. My Somali is ever improving too. I have progressed from ‘sit in a circle and be quiet’ to key phrases like ‘shake your bootie.’ Very useful!
Football with the girls (soccer) is super fun. They are not your traditional team by any means, but they have come a long way nonetheless. There are about 8 girls that play regularly. Others come occasionally, but I have yet to field a full team. They are running more/ I have figured out drills that force running, and the passing is better (short distances at least), and they are not afraid of the ball. Offsides is a foreign concept, and our goalie is legitimately good! Kenai plays with us too. He loves it and the girls love it. The kid is tough! He will be a force to be reckoned with when he grows a bit. I’ve also taken on the running club. I’ve been running a lot here, and mostly safely lately. I am trying to get up to 30K a week. Most weeks Im at about 25 over the course of four days. There are 8 kids that run too. I just log the runs and we chat about once a month about how we are doing. I wish there were some races we could participate in. Someday I will organize one for the school, inshallah.
Kenai is thriving these days. There are 12 new chicks on campus and he loves trying to catch them (see his blog post, How to Catch a Chick). He’s declared himself the best chick catcher on campus. Ha! His math tutor gave him a pre-algebra book today. Kenai loves it! He is reading it for fun. A student asked me today if all the kids in America were as smart as Kenai. I think the student was worried about his competition for applying for universities in the states.
Not much else to report. We have a four day weekend this weekend. We are not yet 24 hours out of classes and I have received two emails and three phone calls from the students. In addition to running into one in town. They are spoiled by the personal attention! I do love it though. I think it is very rare for the teachers to take an interest in the students, both in the classroom and definitely outside of the classroom. The boarding school fosters a closeness too that is more of family than not. It is nice to see the kids grow, think about things differently, not be afraid to express themselves, and to really do well academically. Especially the older students (sophomores), to hear their stories about having all these white people as teachers is amusing- the accents, assignments, and style of teaching.
Many of these things Im think I’d find in most boarding schools, even most schools. Yet, I am not so sure. There is a certain watchful eye many of the students have over us. They are protective when we are in town. It’s like they are the teachers then. There was a board meeting last week and I had my fancy scarf on, and my ‘nice clothes’ from the states. The girls helped to dress me, and one of the not-so-well-behaved boys (he had a suspension for the first two weeks of the semester) commented on how nice I looked- very Somali. The kids and seem to enjoy having all the teachers and Kenai around. Im glad to be spending more time with them these days. Life is pretty good right now.
Ethiopia!
Ethiopia begins…. December 27th or so, 2010
Where to start, where to start….
Side note: This morning my first stop was to a travel agency in Hargeisa. My folks are coming to visit me, in Victoria Falls, in April. Everything is planned, except my and K’s plane ticket. Between work and sickness, booking the ticket has been lingering for about a month. Per my mom, the flights are getting full and I should book asap. I get to the travel agency and no less than three times they confirmed it was for April. Then, they told me to come back in a month, minimum. I left the flight desirables and my contact info, just in case a good deal popped up, but they essentially laughed me out of there. When in Africa….
Bigger insights??: It is hard to know just how impoverished or ‘repressed’ someplace is until you have something to compare it too. Reverse culture shock in many ways. I know it in theory and first hand in various ways. But Somaliland v. Ethiopia. In many ways, Somaliland is my comfort zone. And the ‘third gender’ syndrome in Somaliland is more apparent being here (Ethiopia) where that is not an issue. Seeing women being women, couples holding hands, there being a national pride complete with ‘Rasta’ colors, music playing, and people working hard to for something, it is nice.
What is that something that Ethiopians have that it seems like Somalianders are, very generally, missing? Why work for it? There is such a hard, steep road between hands-to-mouth needs being met and the over consuming-US norm. In so many ways, the simplicity and acceptance of life as it is in Somaliland is lovely (post-war syndrome I am told). What is missing in the very subdued, status-quo society of Somaliland? Anything? In many ways I feel more comfortable there- I know what to expect and have some experience with what will cause a reaction, the language, and the culture. But, being here, the cultural void is more apparent there.
I hear stories of before the war in Somaliland when people were uncovered and life was happening all around- even the wine was flowing; now there is a more conservative reform sweeping the nation where ‘traditional’ roles are more the accepted. This is not the true repression that I hear of in one or two other Arab/ Muslim countries, where women are truly forbidden to be seen in public, but there is a noticeable separation of genders and of physical/ fashion conservatism in Somaliland. Does it stem from a fear of something being taken away? What makes the people as a whole ‘unmotivated,’ for lack of a better word, to really work hard and make life ‘better’ for themselves. What does better even mean?
The people of Somaliland seem bonded and really united in their national pride, in providing a safe place and welcoming place for K and myself. I do not feel that people are trying to rip us off or use us, but they want to embrace us. Here, there are more white people, more street thieves, more aggression, more confidence, more ‘life.’ Most people in Somaliland are very peaceful and calming in what is. Yet, there is also a progressive movement happening in Somliland. If I may stereotype, they are the well educated ‘hippies’ of the late sixties and seventies. Very smart people who studied abroad, did well for themselves, raised families abroad and are now coming back to Somaliland to lend their experience and perspective, and who truly want to raise the status quo of Somaliland. They are thinkers with means and connections. Admitting my own nativity in all of this, I do feel as though Somliland is at a crossroads and on the brink of something. Acknowledging my very outsider status on most levels, I am grateful for every new insight I get into this phenomena. Taking myself out of it, even just for a few days now, brings new perspective.
These are merely my thoughts. I am no expert; just one spectator working through my observations and thoughts. Please, do not take anything more than one person’s perspective from anything I write.
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Now, Ethiopia. Day one: Crossing the border. The border towns on both sides are very developed! Lots of restaurants and shops. Muslim is the overarching culture still. And it is the typical, plastic and garbage ridden Somaliland look on both immediate sides. The process to cross the border was to stamp our passport out of Somaliland, then walk past a singular rope across a street, then figure out immigration on the Ethiopia side, stamp the passport and find the bus. Nothing is labeled, and this very important offices look exactly like the other store fronts, but thanks to our trusty-been-here-before guide, Ode (another teacher), we made it. The Somaliland person was fabulously personable too as I took pictures and Kenai stamped his own passport. For those counting, this is the second country that has let a six year old make the official stamp on his passport- UAE being the first. This child….
I packed (very relatively) light for this trip: One small roller, and one medium backpack. Plus a purse, and K had a little backpack. However, as we are tucking from one border town to the next, the roller, and even my mid-sized pack was out of place. If the color of my skin did not draw enough attention, my armfuls of luggage did the trick. It was very manageable, but the roller clanked along the dirt road, bringing stares and harmless entertainment for locals.
Next stop, bus depot. There are four seats across, which means we can squeeze five full-grown butts. The bus was old and dirty, but only five across did not seem too bad. Weather is mild right now, so all in all, it was bearable. I was highly impressed with the 10 year old that was running the show. He was articulate (in Somali), assertive, and methodical in his placement of people on the bus and about collecting the cash. Truly, what a waste of a very intelligent individual- manning the front door of the bus. I wish I had Abaarso flyers to hand to him/ to recruit him with.
In short, the ride was fine. Roads got considerably better as we headed further from the boarder. I was shocked at lovely scenery! Green hills, mountains, the evolution of ‘poor’ huts and towns, water (lots of pics- check it out)! Again, never realized how much I missed seeing bodies of water until I saw them again (there are none in Somaliland). The family next to me took great pleasure in my very broken and very limited Somali (“Enough!” “Go go!” as my patience ran out as we waited for the mini bus to leave), and we had about four check points in the six hours where every non-white person (the four in our group were the only whites) piled off the bus and showed their papers. Overall, it was long, warm, dirty, cheap and exciting.
Around 6pm, Herrar!! Tired and starved we quickly adapted to all of the people wanting to help us (in an aggressive, I-hope-to-get-something-from-you way) and made our way to our $4 a night hotel room. Yikes. That may have been a new low for me, though it was minimally maintained and for the most part sanitary, but old and old-dirty. This was way worse than the Motel 6 my folks ‘made’ me and my sister stay at during one our family vacations. The story goes Beth and I had our own room and freaked out when there was a roach on the wall. If my folks and sister could see me now…
We quickly dropped our luggage and headed out to dinner. Ready? The best part of the post is coming up. I had a beer. COLD BEER!! First one in about 4 months (even pregnant I did not go that long!). It was the best thing I ever tasted. The fact that it cost about $.30 made it that much better. And there was pizza. Fabulous ‘fasting’ pizza- grilled onions, lots of other veggies and no cheese. It was amazing! Fasting = vegetarian. I learned that word quickly. I had two beers that night. Kenai asked me if I wanted another one. I said no, two was going to be enough for that first night. He said, ‘Yeah. You probably should switch to wine now.’
Other highlights of Herrar include a real beer garden. REAL BEER GARDEN!! Tables with umbrellas and palm trees to look at. DARK BEER!! I hope ya’ll reading this understand just how happy I was to be there. Even now, a month later writing about, I still get gitty. Ahhh. Avocado smoothies- who knew!?! Avocado smashed up with some lime- fabulous. Another food highlight was egg-chapatti fried goodness with some tomatoes or chillis. It could have used more hot sauce, and possible a dollop of sour cream, but yum. So tasty!
Do not worry, I am not going to spell out every detail of the trip. Mostly because much of the above was written six (now closer to 9) weeks ago as it was happening. From here on out, just an over view with a few stories.
Sight-seeing in Harar was great. Then we went to Dire Dawa. Bini is a friend of mine from the university that I taught at in Hargeisa. He now lives back in Dire Dawa and was our amazing host. That city was very green and he thoroughly entertained Kenai- taking him to parks where he played when he was a kid, going a carriage ride together while the ladies shopped for scarves, and buying him the great Ethiopia hat that is seen in many pictures. It was nice to be cared for so well.
From there, K and I took an overnight bus to Addis (leaving the rest of the crew behind). The drivers and handlers were a little sketchy. K and I were in the front seat and there were quite a few transactions that happened that I’m pretty sure were not legit. But, the others in the car were well-dressed, seemingly mid-upper class people. Adult families and couples. They made me feel like we were going to be okay. And we were. Arriving at the station at like 4:30a, we ‘slept’ in the van for a few more hours before heading to the Addis airport to get Brian, a friend from California.
Brian, oh Brian. Not surprisingly, he was about the last person off his plane. Shy me asked every American-looking person where they were coming from. Two hours after I found the first person from his flight, we found him. It was really, really nice to see someone from the US. I love everyone here, and do a decent job of keeping in touch, but it was good to see a familiar face.
In Addis, we splurged for a fancy room- two beds, a toilet AND hot water in our room, with an extra chair. The B&B was very nice and in the ‘little Italy’ area of Addis. Young. Sassy. And reasonably priced. We got these luxury accommodations for a whole $14. Pricey! Brian was pretty tired so we laid low that day. Next morning we toured around a bit. Met some guys who helped us navigate the city, got my phone stolen outside the zoo, and ate cake. Lots of cake. Who knew I liked cake so much! More beer too. It was good. There were three tiers of transportation in Addis- taxis, public buses, and public mini buses. We took mini buses most places. For about $.10 each, we could get from neighborhood to neighborhood. I guess we could take the public buses for less, but even the locals did not do that. It was only for the poorest of folks.
Back at the room that day, I was headed to my room when I hear ‘Christine.’ Low and behold, one of the other teachers was staying at the B&B too! Not one of the ones I left with/ was traveling with for the first few nights, but a different one. We just cannot stay away from each other. Making friends with his friends, Brian crashed that night, K watched movies, and I grabbed a drink with them. It was also very nice to see that familiar face when on the road too.
Where are we, about day 5? Between cities, we mostly took mini buses to get from A to B. They were fine. Not luxury, but not miserable. Think full size van. One butt per seat if I paid for Kenai, he on my lap if I didn’t. It was about 50/50 when I paid and when I didn’t. They made meal and potty stops. Twice I had someone else on the bus buy my meal. As you will read, the next two cities were not the finest, but the generosity of many made up for the manipulative few.
Bahir Dar. Some local ‘friends’ in Addis helped us with our transportation to Dahir Dar. The Addis crew was nice. Educated (I believe them), but out of work. They helped us see the sites around Addis in exchange for a meal. Long story short, we did give them a few Ethiopian dollars because my phone was stolen and we never met up for dinner. One of these guy’s cousins ran a tourist business in Bahir Dar. This is when I let my guard down and became a typical western tourist. Sigh.
The cousin carted us off to a reasonable hotel. About $5 a night for two beds and a nice, though communal bathroom. Perfect! He arranged three days of tours for us and we pre-paid. It was more than it should have been, but to have everything, including our transportation, taken care of- heck, we are on vacation.
That night we had fish for dinner. Sparing the details, for the next 36-48 hours, all three of us were sicker than I had been in as long as I could remember. We cancelled the pre-paid day of tours (the day that cost the most because it was a day trip to another city). That afternoon, I asked K if he wanted to go see hippos in the wild, he said no he wanted to go to bed. I knew he was really not feeling well if he passed on a chance to see wild animals. It was not fun. Thankfully, our $5 a night place had sitting toilets in addition to pit toilets. The poor cleaning people who had to clean the stalls the next day. ..
After sickness, we were well enough to get out of bed. Lake Tana, the beginning of the Nile. We took a ‘speed boat’ to islands that housed 11th century? 12th century? monasteries. They were pretty neat. Round structures. The chapel was in the middle. Only clergy could go in, and the doors were only opened during mass times. The outside was painted floor to ceiling with natural inks depicting scenes from the Bible. It was impressive. I wish I had a greater understanding or knowledge of the Bible so I could appreciate and follow the stories more. It was still great. There are a bunch of pictures posted below.
Other highlights from that morning include paying way too much for coffee beans because I was still too sick to think straight or negotiate, and the hippos. They were in a cove in the lake and Kenai was very excited to see them- Brian and I were too. There were about three or four adults and a mom. Despite being responsible for more deaths than any other animal in Africa (they are vegetarians, but will charge to defend their territory), there were communities living right near the hippos. I asked about the hippos charging at people; they laughed at me. Hhhmmmm.
That afternoon- Blue Nile Waterfall. The Great Rift Valley. Gorgeous! How the area around the waterfall is not more built up is beyond me. Im glad, as it is gorgeous without it, but talk about prime real estate! We happen to be there during sugar cane harvest time. Im not sure how long this season is, but we hit it! The canes were being loaded off boats, onto the banks, and then they were carried away. Never fear, Kenai was the recipient of some of this sugar cane before it disappeared. It was SO GOOD! His words and mine. Then, a short hike to the falls. The pictures speak for themselves I think.
Travel day to Lalibela- one of the original five Christian civilizations. It was Christmas in Ethiopia by this time. They are on a different calendar. In fact, it is only 2003 there. Kenai took great pleasure in announcing that he was not even born yet in Ethiopia while we were there. There were millions of people there, all wearing white blankets/ scarves. Awesome! Again, the pics speak for themselves. Brian also made friends with a kid. The kid guided us around the town a little, we went to his place for some coffee where is landlord’s baby peed on me, he gave us crosses, and we bought him a book in exchange for this. Will he actually read the book? Is he going to return it for some cash? I wonder. ‘Street rat’ undoubtly, yet still a seemingly good kid. I wish I could know where is story goes and how it ends.
One church was particularly memorable. This was the day we decided to venture without a guide. Ha! We should have known….. We get in line for what we presume is another church. We are relatively near the front, but the line is moving VERY slowly. After a bit, the guard up front sees us. ‘Forengie, forengie!’ We get ushered to the front. Its just Brian, Kenai and myself. We have relatively few items with us, but there are no shoes allowed in there. And we have a water bottle, probably a jacket or two too. Of course, I left our bag in the hotel room. I take the stuff, and Brian takes Kenai. We enter a tunnel. It is very dark. Kenai gets a little whiny, as people are pushing and we cannot see. ‘Just a little more Kenai. I’m sure this will open up soon.’ Little did I know…. Turns out, the church was a tunnel. We were packed like sardines in this tunnel. People smelled. It was warm, but not overly hot. People groped. Kenai was not happy. There was a lot of chanting and praying happening. And why not? We were in purgatory praying our way to heaven! I do not know how long the tunnel/cave/church was, nor how long we were down there. I am guessing it was about 1km and it took us 20 minutes. On the one hand, it was awesome! I wish I knew what I was doing before heading in instead of reading about it after the fact. The chanting was great and it was very meditative to just move with the waves of people. On the other hand, K was not happy, and I was carrying a bunch of stuff, and fending off hands in inappropriate places. Alone would have been better. Now, whenever K and I are fighting, the new line is ‘would you rather be in a dark, crowded cave in Ethiopia?’
In our efforts to save money (Lalibela was relatively expensive, and we lost money on the cancelled tours the city before), we hitched a ride back to Addis with these two girls. They had a rented a driver and they generously offered us a ride back. Brian in the trunk with the luggage, the two girls sprawled in the back, and K and I in the front with the driver. We were told we were leaving in the morning. I figured 6 or 7 o’clock. Nope. The girls thought 9 would be good. And by 9, they meant get up at 9, leisurely eat breakfast, finish packing, pick up souvenirs, grab some water, then go to the bathroom one last time before hitting the road. 1pm we were on the road. Aye caramba!
The girls were a hoot. To say they were 180 degrees from me would be an understatement! Money was no object, and neither was time. They were on vacation and not going to be rushed! Super generous, they treated for most of the meals, and we plenty of party favors for the ride. I am not sure I want to hear Kenai retell that ride. What should have been an 8 hour drive took a good two days. A fun two days, but not the way I originally anticipated spending the second day. To add to the girls’ generosity, we stayed with one of their friends that evening to save on a hotel room, and that friend stayed with Kenai so we could really go out that evening. Auntie Dee took us to the best restaurants in town for the next day and a half, helped us arrange travel back to where we needed to go, and showed us a very different side of Addis. We ended with dinner at the Sheraton. It is one of the top 2? 5? nicest hotels in all of Africa. We had happy hour at the Hilton- that was fancy, but the Sheraton really is in a class above that. I would NEVER have gone without a huge nudge and a lot of peer pressure, but man, was that a fabulous meal. I never realized how many foods I am missing here until that meal! All sorts of nuts, blue cheese, basil (basil I knew I missed), desserts- it was amazing. Thanks Auntie Dee for suggesting it!
Almost done. The last day was a travel day from Addis all the way back to Abaarso. It was a good 17+ hours overland from door to door. K is a trooper! The man next to us on the longest bus ride bought us lunch and literally walked us from one bus to the next to make sure we arrived safely. The last bus before the border ran out of gas less than one km from the border. Figures! People on the bus helped carry our luggage (we were fully loaded at this point, as Brian brought a suitcase of treats/ clothes for us from the states). Border was uneventful, though our driver was very late picking us up. Nothing is worse than waiting for a ride for an hour and a half when all you want to do is get home after a long trip and a 15 hour day of travel. Aye. I called to confirm the pick-up time, but the last people were late, so he presumed we would be too. Nevertheless, we made it home around 10:30p. Safe and sound, and within budget. For me and Kenai, the total door-to-door price was $526. Not bad for 14 or 15 days!
All in all, it was amazing. Many great people, some people scammed us. Lots of great food, and a little poisoning. Great sites filled with lots of history and scenery, great wildlife, made new friends, and really enjoyed spending time with an old friend. Lovely!! And a much needed break. Someday I do want to tour Southern Ethiopia. The south is more of the ‘cultural’ experience- people with plates in their lips. If I stay another year, it will happen.
Up next, a very different trip- Zimbabwe and Botswana to see Victoria Falls with my folks, site-seeing in Nairobi with a student, and a mother-and-son safari in the Serengeti. That trip will not be just over $500 for the two of us….
Where to start, where to start….
Side note: This morning my first stop was to a travel agency in Hargeisa. My folks are coming to visit me, in Victoria Falls, in April. Everything is planned, except my and K’s plane ticket. Between work and sickness, booking the ticket has been lingering for about a month. Per my mom, the flights are getting full and I should book asap. I get to the travel agency and no less than three times they confirmed it was for April. Then, they told me to come back in a month, minimum. I left the flight desirables and my contact info, just in case a good deal popped up, but they essentially laughed me out of there. When in Africa….
Bigger insights??: It is hard to know just how impoverished or ‘repressed’ someplace is until you have something to compare it too. Reverse culture shock in many ways. I know it in theory and first hand in various ways. But Somaliland v. Ethiopia. In many ways, Somaliland is my comfort zone. And the ‘third gender’ syndrome in Somaliland is more apparent being here (Ethiopia) where that is not an issue. Seeing women being women, couples holding hands, there being a national pride complete with ‘Rasta’ colors, music playing, and people working hard to for something, it is nice.
What is that something that Ethiopians have that it seems like Somalianders are, very generally, missing? Why work for it? There is such a hard, steep road between hands-to-mouth needs being met and the over consuming-US norm. In so many ways, the simplicity and acceptance of life as it is in Somaliland is lovely (post-war syndrome I am told). What is missing in the very subdued, status-quo society of Somaliland? Anything? In many ways I feel more comfortable there- I know what to expect and have some experience with what will cause a reaction, the language, and the culture. But, being here, the cultural void is more apparent there.
I hear stories of before the war in Somaliland when people were uncovered and life was happening all around- even the wine was flowing; now there is a more conservative reform sweeping the nation where ‘traditional’ roles are more the accepted. This is not the true repression that I hear of in one or two other Arab/ Muslim countries, where women are truly forbidden to be seen in public, but there is a noticeable separation of genders and of physical/ fashion conservatism in Somaliland. Does it stem from a fear of something being taken away? What makes the people as a whole ‘unmotivated,’ for lack of a better word, to really work hard and make life ‘better’ for themselves. What does better even mean?
The people of Somaliland seem bonded and really united in their national pride, in providing a safe place and welcoming place for K and myself. I do not feel that people are trying to rip us off or use us, but they want to embrace us. Here, there are more white people, more street thieves, more aggression, more confidence, more ‘life.’ Most people in Somaliland are very peaceful and calming in what is. Yet, there is also a progressive movement happening in Somliland. If I may stereotype, they are the well educated ‘hippies’ of the late sixties and seventies. Very smart people who studied abroad, did well for themselves, raised families abroad and are now coming back to Somaliland to lend their experience and perspective, and who truly want to raise the status quo of Somaliland. They are thinkers with means and connections. Admitting my own nativity in all of this, I do feel as though Somliland is at a crossroads and on the brink of something. Acknowledging my very outsider status on most levels, I am grateful for every new insight I get into this phenomena. Taking myself out of it, even just for a few days now, brings new perspective.
These are merely my thoughts. I am no expert; just one spectator working through my observations and thoughts. Please, do not take anything more than one person’s perspective from anything I write.
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Now, Ethiopia. Day one: Crossing the border. The border towns on both sides are very developed! Lots of restaurants and shops. Muslim is the overarching culture still. And it is the typical, plastic and garbage ridden Somaliland look on both immediate sides. The process to cross the border was to stamp our passport out of Somaliland, then walk past a singular rope across a street, then figure out immigration on the Ethiopia side, stamp the passport and find the bus. Nothing is labeled, and this very important offices look exactly like the other store fronts, but thanks to our trusty-been-here-before guide, Ode (another teacher), we made it. The Somaliland person was fabulously personable too as I took pictures and Kenai stamped his own passport. For those counting, this is the second country that has let a six year old make the official stamp on his passport- UAE being the first. This child….
I packed (very relatively) light for this trip: One small roller, and one medium backpack. Plus a purse, and K had a little backpack. However, as we are tucking from one border town to the next, the roller, and even my mid-sized pack was out of place. If the color of my skin did not draw enough attention, my armfuls of luggage did the trick. It was very manageable, but the roller clanked along the dirt road, bringing stares and harmless entertainment for locals.
Next stop, bus depot. There are four seats across, which means we can squeeze five full-grown butts. The bus was old and dirty, but only five across did not seem too bad. Weather is mild right now, so all in all, it was bearable. I was highly impressed with the 10 year old that was running the show. He was articulate (in Somali), assertive, and methodical in his placement of people on the bus and about collecting the cash. Truly, what a waste of a very intelligent individual- manning the front door of the bus. I wish I had Abaarso flyers to hand to him/ to recruit him with.
In short, the ride was fine. Roads got considerably better as we headed further from the boarder. I was shocked at lovely scenery! Green hills, mountains, the evolution of ‘poor’ huts and towns, water (lots of pics- check it out)! Again, never realized how much I missed seeing bodies of water until I saw them again (there are none in Somaliland). The family next to me took great pleasure in my very broken and very limited Somali (“Enough!” “Go go!” as my patience ran out as we waited for the mini bus to leave), and we had about four check points in the six hours where every non-white person (the four in our group were the only whites) piled off the bus and showed their papers. Overall, it was long, warm, dirty, cheap and exciting.
Around 6pm, Herrar!! Tired and starved we quickly adapted to all of the people wanting to help us (in an aggressive, I-hope-to-get-something-from-you way) and made our way to our $4 a night hotel room. Yikes. That may have been a new low for me, though it was minimally maintained and for the most part sanitary, but old and old-dirty. This was way worse than the Motel 6 my folks ‘made’ me and my sister stay at during one our family vacations. The story goes Beth and I had our own room and freaked out when there was a roach on the wall. If my folks and sister could see me now…
We quickly dropped our luggage and headed out to dinner. Ready? The best part of the post is coming up. I had a beer. COLD BEER!! First one in about 4 months (even pregnant I did not go that long!). It was the best thing I ever tasted. The fact that it cost about $.30 made it that much better. And there was pizza. Fabulous ‘fasting’ pizza- grilled onions, lots of other veggies and no cheese. It was amazing! Fasting = vegetarian. I learned that word quickly. I had two beers that night. Kenai asked me if I wanted another one. I said no, two was going to be enough for that first night. He said, ‘Yeah. You probably should switch to wine now.’
Other highlights of Herrar include a real beer garden. REAL BEER GARDEN!! Tables with umbrellas and palm trees to look at. DARK BEER!! I hope ya’ll reading this understand just how happy I was to be there. Even now, a month later writing about, I still get gitty. Ahhh. Avocado smoothies- who knew!?! Avocado smashed up with some lime- fabulous. Another food highlight was egg-chapatti fried goodness with some tomatoes or chillis. It could have used more hot sauce, and possible a dollop of sour cream, but yum. So tasty!
Do not worry, I am not going to spell out every detail of the trip. Mostly because much of the above was written six (now closer to 9) weeks ago as it was happening. From here on out, just an over view with a few stories.
Sight-seeing in Harar was great. Then we went to Dire Dawa. Bini is a friend of mine from the university that I taught at in Hargeisa. He now lives back in Dire Dawa and was our amazing host. That city was very green and he thoroughly entertained Kenai- taking him to parks where he played when he was a kid, going a carriage ride together while the ladies shopped for scarves, and buying him the great Ethiopia hat that is seen in many pictures. It was nice to be cared for so well.
From there, K and I took an overnight bus to Addis (leaving the rest of the crew behind). The drivers and handlers were a little sketchy. K and I were in the front seat and there were quite a few transactions that happened that I’m pretty sure were not legit. But, the others in the car were well-dressed, seemingly mid-upper class people. Adult families and couples. They made me feel like we were going to be okay. And we were. Arriving at the station at like 4:30a, we ‘slept’ in the van for a few more hours before heading to the Addis airport to get Brian, a friend from California.
Brian, oh Brian. Not surprisingly, he was about the last person off his plane. Shy me asked every American-looking person where they were coming from. Two hours after I found the first person from his flight, we found him. It was really, really nice to see someone from the US. I love everyone here, and do a decent job of keeping in touch, but it was good to see a familiar face.
In Addis, we splurged for a fancy room- two beds, a toilet AND hot water in our room, with an extra chair. The B&B was very nice and in the ‘little Italy’ area of Addis. Young. Sassy. And reasonably priced. We got these luxury accommodations for a whole $14. Pricey! Brian was pretty tired so we laid low that day. Next morning we toured around a bit. Met some guys who helped us navigate the city, got my phone stolen outside the zoo, and ate cake. Lots of cake. Who knew I liked cake so much! More beer too. It was good. There were three tiers of transportation in Addis- taxis, public buses, and public mini buses. We took mini buses most places. For about $.10 each, we could get from neighborhood to neighborhood. I guess we could take the public buses for less, but even the locals did not do that. It was only for the poorest of folks.
Back at the room that day, I was headed to my room when I hear ‘Christine.’ Low and behold, one of the other teachers was staying at the B&B too! Not one of the ones I left with/ was traveling with for the first few nights, but a different one. We just cannot stay away from each other. Making friends with his friends, Brian crashed that night, K watched movies, and I grabbed a drink with them. It was also very nice to see that familiar face when on the road too.
Where are we, about day 5? Between cities, we mostly took mini buses to get from A to B. They were fine. Not luxury, but not miserable. Think full size van. One butt per seat if I paid for Kenai, he on my lap if I didn’t. It was about 50/50 when I paid and when I didn’t. They made meal and potty stops. Twice I had someone else on the bus buy my meal. As you will read, the next two cities were not the finest, but the generosity of many made up for the manipulative few.
Bahir Dar. Some local ‘friends’ in Addis helped us with our transportation to Dahir Dar. The Addis crew was nice. Educated (I believe them), but out of work. They helped us see the sites around Addis in exchange for a meal. Long story short, we did give them a few Ethiopian dollars because my phone was stolen and we never met up for dinner. One of these guy’s cousins ran a tourist business in Bahir Dar. This is when I let my guard down and became a typical western tourist. Sigh.
The cousin carted us off to a reasonable hotel. About $5 a night for two beds and a nice, though communal bathroom. Perfect! He arranged three days of tours for us and we pre-paid. It was more than it should have been, but to have everything, including our transportation, taken care of- heck, we are on vacation.
That night we had fish for dinner. Sparing the details, for the next 36-48 hours, all three of us were sicker than I had been in as long as I could remember. We cancelled the pre-paid day of tours (the day that cost the most because it was a day trip to another city). That afternoon, I asked K if he wanted to go see hippos in the wild, he said no he wanted to go to bed. I knew he was really not feeling well if he passed on a chance to see wild animals. It was not fun. Thankfully, our $5 a night place had sitting toilets in addition to pit toilets. The poor cleaning people who had to clean the stalls the next day. ..
After sickness, we were well enough to get out of bed. Lake Tana, the beginning of the Nile. We took a ‘speed boat’ to islands that housed 11th century? 12th century? monasteries. They were pretty neat. Round structures. The chapel was in the middle. Only clergy could go in, and the doors were only opened during mass times. The outside was painted floor to ceiling with natural inks depicting scenes from the Bible. It was impressive. I wish I had a greater understanding or knowledge of the Bible so I could appreciate and follow the stories more. It was still great. There are a bunch of pictures posted below.
Other highlights from that morning include paying way too much for coffee beans because I was still too sick to think straight or negotiate, and the hippos. They were in a cove in the lake and Kenai was very excited to see them- Brian and I were too. There were about three or four adults and a mom. Despite being responsible for more deaths than any other animal in Africa (they are vegetarians, but will charge to defend their territory), there were communities living right near the hippos. I asked about the hippos charging at people; they laughed at me. Hhhmmmm.
That afternoon- Blue Nile Waterfall. The Great Rift Valley. Gorgeous! How the area around the waterfall is not more built up is beyond me. Im glad, as it is gorgeous without it, but talk about prime real estate! We happen to be there during sugar cane harvest time. Im not sure how long this season is, but we hit it! The canes were being loaded off boats, onto the banks, and then they were carried away. Never fear, Kenai was the recipient of some of this sugar cane before it disappeared. It was SO GOOD! His words and mine. Then, a short hike to the falls. The pictures speak for themselves I think.
Travel day to Lalibela- one of the original five Christian civilizations. It was Christmas in Ethiopia by this time. They are on a different calendar. In fact, it is only 2003 there. Kenai took great pleasure in announcing that he was not even born yet in Ethiopia while we were there. There were millions of people there, all wearing white blankets/ scarves. Awesome! Again, the pics speak for themselves. Brian also made friends with a kid. The kid guided us around the town a little, we went to his place for some coffee where is landlord’s baby peed on me, he gave us crosses, and we bought him a book in exchange for this. Will he actually read the book? Is he going to return it for some cash? I wonder. ‘Street rat’ undoubtly, yet still a seemingly good kid. I wish I could know where is story goes and how it ends.
One church was particularly memorable. This was the day we decided to venture without a guide. Ha! We should have known….. We get in line for what we presume is another church. We are relatively near the front, but the line is moving VERY slowly. After a bit, the guard up front sees us. ‘Forengie, forengie!’ We get ushered to the front. Its just Brian, Kenai and myself. We have relatively few items with us, but there are no shoes allowed in there. And we have a water bottle, probably a jacket or two too. Of course, I left our bag in the hotel room. I take the stuff, and Brian takes Kenai. We enter a tunnel. It is very dark. Kenai gets a little whiny, as people are pushing and we cannot see. ‘Just a little more Kenai. I’m sure this will open up soon.’ Little did I know…. Turns out, the church was a tunnel. We were packed like sardines in this tunnel. People smelled. It was warm, but not overly hot. People groped. Kenai was not happy. There was a lot of chanting and praying happening. And why not? We were in purgatory praying our way to heaven! I do not know how long the tunnel/cave/church was, nor how long we were down there. I am guessing it was about 1km and it took us 20 minutes. On the one hand, it was awesome! I wish I knew what I was doing before heading in instead of reading about it after the fact. The chanting was great and it was very meditative to just move with the waves of people. On the other hand, K was not happy, and I was carrying a bunch of stuff, and fending off hands in inappropriate places. Alone would have been better. Now, whenever K and I are fighting, the new line is ‘would you rather be in a dark, crowded cave in Ethiopia?’
In our efforts to save money (Lalibela was relatively expensive, and we lost money on the cancelled tours the city before), we hitched a ride back to Addis with these two girls. They had a rented a driver and they generously offered us a ride back. Brian in the trunk with the luggage, the two girls sprawled in the back, and K and I in the front with the driver. We were told we were leaving in the morning. I figured 6 or 7 o’clock. Nope. The girls thought 9 would be good. And by 9, they meant get up at 9, leisurely eat breakfast, finish packing, pick up souvenirs, grab some water, then go to the bathroom one last time before hitting the road. 1pm we were on the road. Aye caramba!
The girls were a hoot. To say they were 180 degrees from me would be an understatement! Money was no object, and neither was time. They were on vacation and not going to be rushed! Super generous, they treated for most of the meals, and we plenty of party favors for the ride. I am not sure I want to hear Kenai retell that ride. What should have been an 8 hour drive took a good two days. A fun two days, but not the way I originally anticipated spending the second day. To add to the girls’ generosity, we stayed with one of their friends that evening to save on a hotel room, and that friend stayed with Kenai so we could really go out that evening. Auntie Dee took us to the best restaurants in town for the next day and a half, helped us arrange travel back to where we needed to go, and showed us a very different side of Addis. We ended with dinner at the Sheraton. It is one of the top 2? 5? nicest hotels in all of Africa. We had happy hour at the Hilton- that was fancy, but the Sheraton really is in a class above that. I would NEVER have gone without a huge nudge and a lot of peer pressure, but man, was that a fabulous meal. I never realized how many foods I am missing here until that meal! All sorts of nuts, blue cheese, basil (basil I knew I missed), desserts- it was amazing. Thanks Auntie Dee for suggesting it!
Almost done. The last day was a travel day from Addis all the way back to Abaarso. It was a good 17+ hours overland from door to door. K is a trooper! The man next to us on the longest bus ride bought us lunch and literally walked us from one bus to the next to make sure we arrived safely. The last bus before the border ran out of gas less than one km from the border. Figures! People on the bus helped carry our luggage (we were fully loaded at this point, as Brian brought a suitcase of treats/ clothes for us from the states). Border was uneventful, though our driver was very late picking us up. Nothing is worse than waiting for a ride for an hour and a half when all you want to do is get home after a long trip and a 15 hour day of travel. Aye. I called to confirm the pick-up time, but the last people were late, so he presumed we would be too. Nevertheless, we made it home around 10:30p. Safe and sound, and within budget. For me and Kenai, the total door-to-door price was $526. Not bad for 14 or 15 days!
All in all, it was amazing. Many great people, some people scammed us. Lots of great food, and a little poisoning. Great sites filled with lots of history and scenery, great wildlife, made new friends, and really enjoyed spending time with an old friend. Lovely!! And a much needed break. Someday I do want to tour Southern Ethiopia. The south is more of the ‘cultural’ experience- people with plates in their lips. If I stay another year, it will happen.
Up next, a very different trip- Zimbabwe and Botswana to see Victoria Falls with my folks, site-seeing in Nairobi with a student, and a mother-and-son safari in the Serengeti. That trip will not be just over $500 for the two of us….
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Berbera
Most of the pics from Berbera (some didn't upload of some reason...).
Commentary posted already.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
A day in the life
6:00am- alarm goes off snooze, snooze, snooze
6:30a- get out of bed. Breakfast is four crunchy laxoox (la-ho, a somali crepe) with sugar, and two cups of coffee. I am reminded by our cook to pick up the (live) goats while I am in town.
7:00-7:50, getting dressed, getting Kenai out of bed and dressed, packing for the day, getting the car keys, making the list of ttd in town. I also have a full conversation, IN SOMALI, with one of the students' cooks- good morning, good morning, how are you, I am fine, how are you, good, where are you going, I am going to hargeisa. This was followed by big grins and many 'very good, very good's. Small things. : D
7:50, I drive to get our driver. He was 'too near' and we were off. On the way we picked up four hitchikers. Another step towards being native- I have hitchhiked and given rides to hitchhikers here now. There was a wedding in our village last night and these folks were making their way back to Hargeisa. Hopefully picking them up creates good karma.
8:20 or so, started the morning of errands. Cashed a check and successfully asked for $20's instead of $100. Again, small things. Met with the VP and Managing Director of a Qaran Express/ Zaad (cell phone money transfers) about the AT programs. It was beautiful- they were talking about this American who transferred money and was complaining because it was taking so long. Guess who that was? Ha! At least it proves I am a customer. :) We laughed about it and clarified how to make the transfer quicker next time. Meet with a few more big-wigs of companies, and the CEO of the largest construction company in the country. Also navigated through the market in record time to pick up my newest dirhas (dresses) from my tailor. The guard and driver were highly impressed- apparently a few other staff members and our driver tried to find the tailor yesterday and couldn't. Another step towards becoming a local- navigating the market more quickly and efficiently than our driver. Love it! Is shopping in multiple countries appropriate for my resume?
9:45- Goat time! Time to buy the goats. I forgot my camera again, but maybe next week I will remember and snap some pics. At the goat/ sheep/ camel market, while the driver was getting the goats, one of the goat brokers came up to the car and told the guard that he wants me. The guard slapped him and told him to get out of here. The fabulous thing is the whole conversation took place in Somali and I understood! While far from a linguist or fluent, I am getting there with Somali. Almost local!
10:10- few more errands, fed the goats some bread (their last meal), and Kenai named the goats Max and Ruby. He talked to them for most of the car ride. Then Max peed in the car. There is something fabulous about talking with CEOs of large companies one minute and being the car with peeing goats the next.
11:00a- Stopped at National (glorified 7-11) to pick up eggs for the teachers. We/ National has been out for a few days, so eggs (bed) will be welcomed with open arms. Again, most of the transaction was in Somali. :)
11:30a- On the way back to Abaarso, we stopped for a family of baboons (dayar) crossing the road. Moms, babies, the whole family. Maybe 30 of them. It was lovely! Expecially with goats eating bread right behind me.
11:40 dropped the goats off at the 'slaughter house.' Reality is it is an older woman of maybe 70 who does it in her back yard, with a single, sharp carving knife. I will pick Max and Ruby up in the morning. Kenai has requested a horn so he can always remember them.
Home before noon. Lunch, emails, and heading back into town for some work this afternoon/ evening.
This is a fairly typical day here in Somaliland. Still loving it!
6:30a- get out of bed. Breakfast is four crunchy laxoox (la-ho, a somali crepe) with sugar, and two cups of coffee. I am reminded by our cook to pick up the (live) goats while I am in town.
7:00-7:50, getting dressed, getting Kenai out of bed and dressed, packing for the day, getting the car keys, making the list of ttd in town. I also have a full conversation, IN SOMALI, with one of the students' cooks- good morning, good morning, how are you, I am fine, how are you, good, where are you going, I am going to hargeisa. This was followed by big grins and many 'very good, very good's. Small things. : D
7:50, I drive to get our driver. He was 'too near' and we were off. On the way we picked up four hitchikers. Another step towards being native- I have hitchhiked and given rides to hitchhikers here now. There was a wedding in our village last night and these folks were making their way back to Hargeisa. Hopefully picking them up creates good karma.
8:20 or so, started the morning of errands. Cashed a check and successfully asked for $20's instead of $100. Again, small things. Met with the VP and Managing Director of a Qaran Express/ Zaad (cell phone money transfers) about the AT programs. It was beautiful- they were talking about this American who transferred money and was complaining because it was taking so long. Guess who that was? Ha! At least it proves I am a customer. :) We laughed about it and clarified how to make the transfer quicker next time. Meet with a few more big-wigs of companies, and the CEO of the largest construction company in the country. Also navigated through the market in record time to pick up my newest dirhas (dresses) from my tailor. The guard and driver were highly impressed- apparently a few other staff members and our driver tried to find the tailor yesterday and couldn't. Another step towards becoming a local- navigating the market more quickly and efficiently than our driver. Love it! Is shopping in multiple countries appropriate for my resume?
9:45- Goat time! Time to buy the goats. I forgot my camera again, but maybe next week I will remember and snap some pics. At the goat/ sheep/ camel market, while the driver was getting the goats, one of the goat brokers came up to the car and told the guard that he wants me. The guard slapped him and told him to get out of here. The fabulous thing is the whole conversation took place in Somali and I understood! While far from a linguist or fluent, I am getting there with Somali. Almost local!
10:10- few more errands, fed the goats some bread (their last meal), and Kenai named the goats Max and Ruby. He talked to them for most of the car ride. Then Max peed in the car. There is something fabulous about talking with CEOs of large companies one minute and being the car with peeing goats the next.
11:00a- Stopped at National (glorified 7-11) to pick up eggs for the teachers. We/ National has been out for a few days, so eggs (bed) will be welcomed with open arms. Again, most of the transaction was in Somali. :)
11:30a- On the way back to Abaarso, we stopped for a family of baboons (dayar) crossing the road. Moms, babies, the whole family. Maybe 30 of them. It was lovely! Expecially with goats eating bread right behind me.
11:40 dropped the goats off at the 'slaughter house.' Reality is it is an older woman of maybe 70 who does it in her back yard, with a single, sharp carving knife. I will pick Max and Ruby up in the morning. Kenai has requested a horn so he can always remember them.
Home before noon. Lunch, emails, and heading back into town for some work this afternoon/ evening.
This is a fairly typical day here in Somaliland. Still loving it!
Monday, December 6, 2010
Blind Side, Goats and Kenai
Here is a relatively quick check-in. I hope to post more in the next few days- I finally went to the goat skinning and want to recap soon. But for now, we are well and I hope you are too!
I have two Kenai stories. First, we were talking today about his math objectives for the year. The kids take the SATs a few times a year and I told Kenai I want him to take that and do better than some students (mostly not really thinking he will do better than them, mostly...). He asked what the SATs were and I told them they were an entrance exam for college. He replied with 'well, if I do good and go to college next year, I definitely shouldn't have to pay. I am only 6, they should pay me to go!'
We were snacking on dates today and saving the seeds to plant in our garden. K was chatting, "mamma, I wonder how we are going to get the dates off the date palms when they grow. Wait! I know this from a Jack and Annie book!" He proceeds to pull the exact book Jack and Annie book from the shelf (we have about 15+ of those books), then flips almost immediately to the page that talks about how you shake the trees to get the dates down. He is a reading maniac right now, and he is retaining ALL of the details about what he is reading. He never, ever ceases to amaze me.
*****
A few days ago I finally watched 'The Blind Side' with Sandra Bullock. A few things struck me. First, the crazy primped women with perfect hair and make-up. Wow. I am just not used to seeing that!
Second, when the main character was in the school, then one of the teachers found the story Mike wrote in the trash, it talked about how all around him he saw white. White people, white walls, white everything. That is not a sentiment I feel here (seeing 'black). Sure when I go into town I am stared at, and constantly asked "how are you?" or "You fine?" I expect it on many levels, but I also know that when I look someone in the eye and smile, greet them (in Somali!!), or just nod, when the gesture is returned, we are truely just seeing each other person to person. I do not feel out of place, shunned, or anything 'othering.' Maybe it's because I am an adult v. a kid in school, or because the people here are genuinely warm, or because this is reality and not a hollywood movie. I took offense when they were talking about it though. Maybe because they gave more attention to what made them different instead of all the ways people are just people.
Finally, there is nothing like a movie about taking someone 'less than' into your home and transforming them into just how you want them to be. Aye. "He is changing us," or whatever the line like that is in the movie- whatever! Everything- the store bought Thanksgiving meal, shopping the day after, buying him the fancy car... So much for appreciating the person for who they are and meeting them where they are in life. Not that Sandra did not do a nice thing by helping Mike, but there was something ungenuine about it and a little 'white supremecy.' No doubt he heart was in the right place, but for that to be so glorified and given the hype that it got, there are so many more ways to value people than to turn them into little yous. Im glad I saw the movie, but it did not sit well with me.
(new day) Last night I watched the Constant Gardener. What a different kind of movie than the Blind Side. I could relate to and liked this movie much more. There were many 'isms' in the movie that were right on- the goats in the street and kids asking for shillings, for example. And there was not talk of feeling differences or any focus on that. The premise for that movie is a woman taking on drug companies that are experimenting on people in Africa (Kenya I believe). She was working with and for the people on their terms instead of bringing them all into her world. I like to think K and I are doing that on some level here.
*****
Thanksgiving was fabulous here. Although we did not get to celebrate on Thursday as planned, nor did we feast with the students, on Friday we sat down as a staff to a meal of roasted chickens (from Brazil), eggplant parm, peppers with a tuna and rice stuffing, traditional t-day stuffing, very garlic and butter mashed potatoes, and cooked guava for dessert. I started cleaning the kitchen and cooking around noon. It was nice because 'kitchen Christine' had the space to herself for the most part, and the troops came in around 3 to finish their dishes. I did not know I had a 'kitchen Christine' persona, but more than one person made a comment to me. Hmmm. I had plenty of helpers and others were in there, entertaining me, just fine. Regardless, the meal was lovely! Tastey, colorful, made form scratch, and shared among good friends. Really, isn't that what Thanksgiving is about?
I have two Kenai stories. First, we were talking today about his math objectives for the year. The kids take the SATs a few times a year and I told Kenai I want him to take that and do better than some students (mostly not really thinking he will do better than them, mostly...). He asked what the SATs were and I told them they were an entrance exam for college. He replied with 'well, if I do good and go to college next year, I definitely shouldn't have to pay. I am only 6, they should pay me to go!'
We were snacking on dates today and saving the seeds to plant in our garden. K was chatting, "mamma, I wonder how we are going to get the dates off the date palms when they grow. Wait! I know this from a Jack and Annie book!" He proceeds to pull the exact book Jack and Annie book from the shelf (we have about 15+ of those books), then flips almost immediately to the page that talks about how you shake the trees to get the dates down. He is a reading maniac right now, and he is retaining ALL of the details about what he is reading. He never, ever ceases to amaze me.
*****
A few days ago I finally watched 'The Blind Side' with Sandra Bullock. A few things struck me. First, the crazy primped women with perfect hair and make-up. Wow. I am just not used to seeing that!
Second, when the main character was in the school, then one of the teachers found the story Mike wrote in the trash, it talked about how all around him he saw white. White people, white walls, white everything. That is not a sentiment I feel here (seeing 'black). Sure when I go into town I am stared at, and constantly asked "how are you?" or "You fine?" I expect it on many levels, but I also know that when I look someone in the eye and smile, greet them (in Somali!!), or just nod, when the gesture is returned, we are truely just seeing each other person to person. I do not feel out of place, shunned, or anything 'othering.' Maybe it's because I am an adult v. a kid in school, or because the people here are genuinely warm, or because this is reality and not a hollywood movie. I took offense when they were talking about it though. Maybe because they gave more attention to what made them different instead of all the ways people are just people.
Finally, there is nothing like a movie about taking someone 'less than' into your home and transforming them into just how you want them to be. Aye. "He is changing us," or whatever the line like that is in the movie- whatever! Everything- the store bought Thanksgiving meal, shopping the day after, buying him the fancy car... So much for appreciating the person for who they are and meeting them where they are in life. Not that Sandra did not do a nice thing by helping Mike, but there was something ungenuine about it and a little 'white supremecy.' No doubt he heart was in the right place, but for that to be so glorified and given the hype that it got, there are so many more ways to value people than to turn them into little yous. Im glad I saw the movie, but it did not sit well with me.
(new day) Last night I watched the Constant Gardener. What a different kind of movie than the Blind Side. I could relate to and liked this movie much more. There were many 'isms' in the movie that were right on- the goats in the street and kids asking for shillings, for example. And there was not talk of feeling differences or any focus on that. The premise for that movie is a woman taking on drug companies that are experimenting on people in Africa (Kenya I believe). She was working with and for the people on their terms instead of bringing them all into her world. I like to think K and I are doing that on some level here.
*****
Thanksgiving was fabulous here. Although we did not get to celebrate on Thursday as planned, nor did we feast with the students, on Friday we sat down as a staff to a meal of roasted chickens (from Brazil), eggplant parm, peppers with a tuna and rice stuffing, traditional t-day stuffing, very garlic and butter mashed potatoes, and cooked guava for dessert. I started cleaning the kitchen and cooking around noon. It was nice because 'kitchen Christine' had the space to herself for the most part, and the troops came in around 3 to finish their dishes. I did not know I had a 'kitchen Christine' persona, but more than one person made a comment to me. Hmmm. I had plenty of helpers and others were in there, entertaining me, just fine. Regardless, the meal was lovely! Tastey, colorful, made form scratch, and shared among good friends. Really, isn't that what Thanksgiving is about?
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