Meskel 9/27/15

Sometimes I forget about how truly amazing my day-to-day life is…but today I was reminded, and I am going to tell you about it!

I have only been in Ethiopia for three months, but I have found myself caught in a whirlwind of celebrations! It’s so rad! I definitely am going to celebrate more often back in America. I’m still new around here, so basically I live my life having no idea what’s going on around me. Usually my days are occupied by someone randomly coming to my house, unannounced, and scooping me up for an unknown adventure. This day it happened to be a 12 year old little girl who is also my best friend. The cause for celebration: Meskel.

Like most times when I leave the house, I grabbed a scarf to throw around my head and shoulders and headed out. She handed me off to her father who escorted me to the outskirts of town (about a 10 minute walk) to a large open field. Everyone starred, whispered and giggled as the foreigner joined in on their celebration. All of the women had the brightly colored net’elas around their heads. Net’elas are large, handmade cotton scarves with colourful accents at the fringes (most traditional Ethiopian clothing is white). They are worn by women for special occasions and religious purposes. I walked in on everyone singing and dancing around someone playing a large drum. The ceremony was then shifted to a different location, and people gathered around a massive structure of dried up eucalyptus leaves and branches. Everyone chanted incoherently in a language I didn’t understand for quite some time. As thrilling as this sounds, I occupied myself by making faces at the little kids who were staring at me. They would laugh, scurry, run away, and then come back. It was a fun game. 

Notice the Net'elas! Also, notice how the kids stare at me. I wasn't kidding!

Next, the drums started to pound faster. Everyone clapped in a synchronized beat and started what sounded like warrior cries. The giant structure in the middle was lit on fire and the people started moving in a circle around it. The clapping, drums and chanting all continued. Simultaneously, a giant mob of people with celebratory sticks started running and dancing faster and faster! The ceremony paraded throughout the entire town- dancing, clapping, fire, drums, sing-songy chants…It was kind of comparable to Christmas carolling except not awful and with more rhythm. I was lulled to sleep by the sounds of this holiday that carried on into the night. I was in awe the entire time.

I am so grateful to have had to opportunity to experience the vibrant energy of Meskel. Who doesn’t need an excuse to dance around a fire? I am overwhelmed by the beauty of what I experience every single day. Things are really denser out here…a lot happens in a short amount of time. In only three months I have felt so many feels and thought so many thoughts and seen so many things and met so many people and ate so many foods and danced so many dances and survived so many bacterial infections and learned so many lessons…. It’s completely awesome. My life is so cool.

-Maa-ree-yaa-naa-

The Bus Ride 9/25/15

Essentially, the only time to get food is during market days. The market comes twice a week to my town, Ali, but I was in need of some food in between time. As a result, I walked to the designated standing area in hopes of catching a bus to the neighboring town of Agarfa (which was hosting a market day).

I gazed down the endless stretch of dirt road. Beautiful rolling farmland hills splattered with trees can be seen on the outskirts of town (I can spit in any direction and hit the outskirts of my town…super small, super rural). A bus was coming! I was like- sweet that was easy, right? …Nope. As the bus came closer, the crowd of people froze and stared for a brief second. Kind of like what a dog does the moment it sees a squirrel. I could see it in their steely glares- they also knew it was market day… The ground trembled. Tensions began to rise. A fly landed on someone’s arm. Somewhere in the distance, a needle hit the ground. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of my head. Then, as if there was a signal to do so, people started sprinting wildly toward the bus. It was just like that scene in Jumanjii, right before a stampede bursts through the bookshelf. Before I processed what was happening, the man I was making small talk with grabbed my forearm and we were off! I made my way to the hoard of people pushing and nudging around the bus door as it opened. I didn’t stand a chance. Let’s face it; these folks were way more experienced than me in the art of forced entry through a narrow door. I think I’d get laughed at if I tried to explain the concept of waiting in a line…so I didn’t. Just when I think I’m not going to make it, this old man with a beard dyed red from henna emerged, godlike, above the crowd and started pushing people back with his formidable cane. Suddenly, another stranger grabbed my arm and packed me into the already crowded bus. The door slammed shut. It didn’t look like there was room for me to sit, but then, somehow, room was made and I squeezed in. Personal space isn’t a thing here… Thanks old man red beard.

I looked around. Everyone was shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Of course, I am the only white person on the bus (let alone in my entire town). There were flies everywhere, a cheesy shag carpet type thing covered the dashboard, there’s a smell…Jesus and Messi stickers made the windows aesthetically pleasing (naturally), it’s super hot, but all the windows are closed. Pothole. Pothole. Bump. Pothole…SCREEEETCH! Gotta dodge donkeys/goats/cows. Everyone is staring (story of my life) and someone was vomiting into a plastic bag. Welcome to Ethiopian transportation...We out here.

A beautiful, older Muslim woman decided to ask me about myself. Everyone was so surprised to hear me speak their language! Tensions were immediately broken, and literally the entire bus begins to smile, laugh and clap for me. After the ride, the woman I spoke to invited me into her home for a buna (coffee) ceremony. I was offered a delectable spread of snacks (cookies, bread, candy, bananas, oranges, zaytung, etc.). She proudly introduced me to her daughters who were shy, but very welcoming. Her house had thin mattresses on the floor which served double duty as couches. The walls were brightly decorated with a colorful array of traditional items. After we drank our coffee, I was invited again, on a different day, to their home for lunch.

This time the floor was covered with a copious variety of specialty Ethiopian foods as well as food specific to Muslims (sitting on the floor to eat is not abnormal- my left leg always falls asleep…I’m working on it). The flavors and spices were so good! After dinner, there was another buna ceremony, and the daughters proudly described their Muslim religion to me. I did not know much about Muslims, so I was eager to learn (turns out the diverse, swirly, culture pool that is Fort Collins didn’t offer much info…). My new sisters proceeded to tie my scarf into a hijab, and we talked and laughed together for several hours.

These strangers took me into their home and almost immediately claimed me as a family member, inviting me to return at any time. They even had to audacity to thank ME when I was leaving! I don’t know if I can properly depict the amount of appreciation and love I feel for all of the people who have readily taken me in as their own. This is just one example of the many invitations I have received during the first couple weeks in my new town. People stop me on the streets (by street, I mean dirt and rock walkway) and invite me into their homes for bread and coffee and random children line up to shake my hand and practice their “how-are-you-I-am-fine-thank-you-my-name-is…” monologue. I have experienced so much hospitality and kindness, I can hardly stand it.

Day to day, I have no idea what’s going to happen, and I love every second of it.  Such an amazing adventure!

Make note of my new/permanent address in the top right corner. My closest internet is in the next town which is anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours away due to the unpredictability of local transportation. I will try to keep in touch as much as possible, but no news is good news sometimes (*cough* mom…).

Miss and love everyone! Thanks again for reading and taking interest in what’s going on out here.

Nagaattii (bye!),

M-Dog.