This morning was an AWA (Africa wins again!) one. I got up at 6:30 so I had plenty of time to get to the hospital for the 8:00 departure time to the CHE site. My brain was foggy after being awake with the baby part of the night, and I couldn’t seem to focus on getting ready. I had 15 minutes to get started (during which virtually nothing got done) before Little Sophie woke up and was very unhappy about life. She proceeded to scream for the next 45 minutes. Nothing I did could make her happy, and I was thinking about all the other things that need to get done. Finally, she calmed down enough to eat and then went back to sleep. I was ready, and it was 7:50—I had told the babysitter to be there at 7:30. I went over to my neighbor’s house (who is completely, head over heels, in love with this little one), but she didn’t answer. Then I went over to Jackie’s house, and told her my story. So much for the nice quiet day that Jackie had been hoping for! She took the baby, and I was on my way.
Once I got to the office, it was a “hurry up and wait” situation. Eyasu’s bus had broken down, so he was 30 minutes late. I needn’t have worried about being on time, apparently! I should remember that Africa Time trumps all by now, but my American tendencies prevent me from being late on the first day of a new job. Ah well. When we finally got started, the rain clouds were coming. It was sticky, but the cloud cover was very nice for the 8 ½ km (about 5 miles) walk to the site. It was such a pleasant walk. We talked the whole time, and they were very impressed with my Amharic. Apparently I’m “clever.” That’s good to know. They were especially amazed at my ability to read the Amharic fidel/letters. Several times, we stopped so that I could read signs. They didn’t seem to mind that I couldn’t understand what I was reading. The walk there was so pleasant (and rain free!) that it didn’t seem like such a long time before we were at the site—a village of about 6,000 people called Shoho. Getting down into the village from the road involved a little bit of hiking, and several people commented on how “strong” this forenge girl is. They said that Americans are very strong, and ready for adventure, while habesha girls are not encouraged to do this. All righty then…
Our first task was to find Elias, the manager of the kebele, or village leadership. We wandered around for about 20 minutes, taking directions from different community members about where he was. When we finally found him, I was amazed. He looked like he was about 16! He has a great rapport with the people, though, and even speaks a moderate amount of English. He then took us to an area where at least 20 people were hoeing, preparing, and planting a coffee field—in response to training done by the CHE members 2 weeks ago! I was then brought to a bridge that had been mended just last week in response to training/work done by CHE. This community has already started to change in response to CHE—how exciting! After seeing the CHE projects, I was brought to see the health clinic and the school. Both were clean, welcoming, and staffed with friendly community members who were slightly surprised but happy to see me.
I was amazed at the spirit of the place. I felt so welcomed everywhere I went. Nobody tried to touch me or get anything from me. Everywhere we went, we were followed by children, but the children were not saying anything or begging—they were simply curiously following. I did not get the “I’m trying to get something from you” feeling that I feel so often when out in the community here. Multiple people commented on my dirty feet, and said that this is not a good place for a forenge to come because it’s hard to walk.
Then, the invitations came. The first was from the nurse at the health clinic—also a CHE committee member. She invited us over to have some “leaf coffee,” which is one of my least favorite of all the Ethiopian delicacies. I managed to choke down almost a whole cup (I didn’t want to drink the whole thing, lest she think I wanted more!), but enjoyed the corn and potatoes that accompanied the nearly unpalatable drink. Her concrete, several-roomed house was surrounded by a beautiful garden, and the whole front yard was flowers. The floor inside was dirt, and the painted walls were decorated with pictures and posters saying “Congratulations!” and “Welcome!”—remembrances from her graduation day, I was told.
We were there for about an hour before we said out goodbyes, and headed back to Soddo. All 3 of us were tired by that time, but apparently I looked quite exhausted because Eyasu was a bit concerned about me. They decided to take a short-cut back to town, which was all uphill, but cut the trip from 8 ½ km down to 5! I wondered why on earth didn’t take the shortcut on the way there, when it was all downhill! Ah well. We were again followed by children, and at one point Eyasu burst out laughing in response to a conversation that was going on behind us. He said that they were discussing how very dirty my feet are, and how tired I am. Apparently they were talking about me like one talks about a baby who requires constant care. I have a feeling I will be well cared-for in this place—what do you think?
The hill was long and steep, but manageable (Yohannes was, once again, amazed at how “strong” American girls are—they were both panting and I was doing fine!), and I thought we had maybe traveled 1-2 km toward our destination. Imagine my surprise when at the top, we were in Soddo! Eyasu asked me if I wanted to get an “Ethiopian Isuzu”—or donkey—for the rest of the way home. I wasn’t too interested in that, and we kept walking. A bit later, they decided that we needed to get a “Special Isuzu,” or horse cart. We came to the poor unsuspecting horse, who was less than excited to have 4 adults riding in her rickety old cart. At one point Eyasu had to get out and push because she couldn’t pull us out of a ditch on the side of the road. I just enjoyed sitting down and being taken care of by 2 men who weren’t about to let me get out and walk again!
When I walked into the hospital compound and could think about nothing other than my bed, I was approached by my neighbor, asking where Little Sophie was. Apparently someone had come to her door asking about the baby, and she had no idea that she was with Jackie. She did not know where the little one was, and I dreaded running around the compound looking for her. When I walked into the house, though, there she was—being cuddled by Almaz, who was just diagnosed with TB last week! Fantastic. Apparently Mehret (the teenager who I had hired to take care of her) was in another region with her sick mother, and Almaz had come to fill in. I then had to spend the last ounces of my energy to explain to Almaz that she cannot be taking care of the baby with active TB. I’m sorry that she doesn’t have work, but she must get started on meds and be on them for awhile before she can be around a baby. That’s a hard conversation to have with a widow with no other options. I paid her extra and told her that we would talk in a few weeks.
Finally, Almaz had gone home, and my sleeping baby and I went to bed….for 10 minutes until she woke up to eat, of course. Ah well. It’s now 8:44pm, and I just completed one of the longest days of my life. I’m going to bed. I hope that you all had a fantastic Labor Day!
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