Ethiopia: Debra Zeit and Addis Ababa.

It occurred to me when beginning this post that Ethiopia will have 4 blog posts. A little excessive, but we were there 3 weeks and there were so many stages to the trip! I like having the separate experiences catalogued as such. So here's another one...ha...Ethiopia blog post 3 out of 4. 

Traveling to Ethiopia was like having a homecoming with a place I had never been. 

It was familiar yet new, wild yet comfortable. 

After the trek, the girls and I split up and they got on another tiny plane to a lake town in the north, I got picked up at the airport by my ex-ethiopian. I think this is a reason that I took to Ethiopia a bit more than my co-workers, I didn't have to navigate alone. The few times he was at work and I was alone wandering around were a bit stressful. Luckily, the majority of the time I had him to drive me around, talk and order for me, take me to the insider places, and explore on a more local level - which is always the goal of a good traveler. 

We had a great few days. I got to see some old friends I had in China whom I hadn't seen in years. They took me out and treated me very special, which was so nice. At the weekend, ex-ethiopian took me a few hours out of town to a beautiful and peaceful resort that acts as a weekend respite for Addis city-dwellers. I enjoyed driving outside of Addis and getting to see the horse carriages and donkeys along the road on the way there. You really get to see more of a country when you drive outside the capital where wealth and education seems to be concentrated. 

I continued to be sick, which was very strange because usually I pride myself in my body's ability to adapt. After 7 years in China I feel like my guts are ironclad. But Ethiopia did me in. I am thankful I had my trusty translator and driver to worry about me and get me better. I am very anti going to the doctor in developing nations, but he took care of me and by the work portion of the trip I was on the mend. Thank goodness. 

Addis was a city that left me feeling very alive. The more I travel in Africa outside Rwanda, the more I notice that I am more suited for places that have high energy and require more culture clue observation and adrenaline. I think Rwanda is a little bit too subdued for my ideal atmosphere. 

Some of the highlights of Addis for me were visiting the sugar can juice shop where Yoni used to stop as a kid; the juice was amazing and it was a place a traveler would never find on their own, having the best coffee I have ever had in my life at Tomoca Coffee, and eating a home cooked meal in an Ethiopian family's house then watching re-runs of the Oscars on the couch. What a special time it was in Addis. 

A homecoming...to a place I had never been. 

cultural restaurant. wonderful food and dancing. 

stool sample pre-input. sums up my addis experience haha. 

I used to cook chicken for these boys in China. 

The first metro system in Africa, built by the Chinese. 

downtown Addis 

My slip for the doctor, in the Ethiopian calendar it is 2008.

View from Yoni's house. 

driving back from Debra Zeit 

Amazing food and honey wine. 

Debra Zeit

Merkato Market 

Debra Zeit 

Debra Zeit 

Addis mosque 

Yoni took me to get sugarcane juice at the shop where he always stopped after school as a kid.
The lady remembered him! 

Debra Zeit

After all this exploration...it was finally time to get to work. 

walk slow. xoxo. 

Ethiopia: Wollo Mountain Trekking

It's a truth known among long-time travelers, there are a plethora of "ok" tours out there. Charging lots of moolah and delivering a "meh" experience that could probably have been better constructed by the traveler themselves.

Tesfa Tours, operating "community treks" in northern Ethiopia, is NOT one of those companies. For the first time in awhile I felt like I truly got my money's worth out of a unique and well-planned tour experience.

Our trek started in Lalibela, where a mini-bus picked us up and drove us a few hours north into Ethiopia's dry mountain-scape. This area is dealing with drought and famine, and has recently been the benefactor of US Aid. The road was rough and un-paved, though they are working to pave it. At several points along the way up the mountains, we drove past Chinese camps of workers building the road literally around us.

Tesfa treks are designed to support the communities that the treks walk through. We were fed and housed by two different communities who split up the donkey-supplying, lunch and dinner making, and upkeep of each overnight camp site. It was like we were entering their world, quite literally, and were being cared for by the people who live in this arid, barren land. In return for the experience, we paid a decent sum. It seemed like such a great idea for travelers and the communities alike!

(The only small issue was that around this point in the trip I got a parasite/food poisoning/something in my gut that wasn't happy and I was having trouble keeping food in - which meant less amazing food and no amazing Ethiopian coffee for me....and lots of make-shift bathroom stops in the fields...bummer).

We trekked for two whole days. Donkeys carried our bags and an english speaking, super fun guide nick-named "Z" walked with us. Each afternoon, we stopped at a campsite whose views rival any views I have ever seen. I felt like we were sleeping in rock huts on the edge of Africa. In each location, there was a wooden box "toilet" in it's own rock hut. A bucket of water was placed near a tree that had bamboo wrapped around it for bathing privacy. (Although, at this point of living in Africa, bathing just doesn't always seem necessary. Wash your feet, wipe your pits and under your boobs. Use a face wipe if you're feeling fancy. Done. )

After arriving the second day to our camp we did what any normal, tired trekker in rural Ethiopia would do...we blasted Toto's Africa, danced around like the white girls we are, and drank crappy Ethiopian beer while wondering how the beer got brought in to the edge of the world. Typical African mountain side behavior.

At dinner time, a fire was built on the concrete floor of a separate rock hut and we sat around it on wooden benches. We were first brought a soup and a large slice of warm Ethiopian bread, followed by a home-cooked vegetarian meal. The community members who prepared the meal for us watched us eat first, which was super awkward and weird. We kept asking when the others would eat and were assured they would eat after we left the hut.

Following dinner, we retired with candles to our huts and slept in the itchiest beds I have ever been in. We checked for bed bugs, but it seemed like just fleas. There is not much to do on a mountain-side with no electricity, so 8pm bedtime was perfect. (And actually something we are all used to by now).

In the morning, we were treated to bread, eggs, and coffee sitting on benches overlooking the mountains. Donkeys grazed beside us, waiting to be loaded with our backpacks. Surreal.

On the hike out to the main road on our last day, we passed donkeys loaded with beer boxes. So that is how they get the provisions out to the camps, we thought, ...donkeys!

The actual walk itself was leisurely, though long. We walked through fields of animals (so much livestock in Ethiopia!), were followed by children, passed schools and churches and straw huts along the way. People were just doing their daily thing - raising animals, raising bare-bottomed children, living within the realm of relying on the sky's provision of water for their harvest. (That hasn't come this year...)

It felt semi-invasive to take photos. A few times I felt like a giant white alien marching around someone's home turf with a huge camera. It just didn't feel right. The photos I do have, however, give small justice to the grandeur and beauty of the landscape and mountain views.

Have a look...remember the people of northern Ethiopia who are going through drought...recognize climate change and ponder what you can do about it (don't waste water!)...and enjoy these snippets of beautiful Ethiopia...

Rural church

Where we took our meals. Unreal. 

Beer donkey. 

Give me a D! Give me an I! Give me an ARREA! 

shower, anyone? privacy not included. 

Waking up for sunrise is always worth it. 

another rural church

arriving to day 1 campsite

schoolyard 

If you ever find yourself with a little cash, good shoes, and a few days of free time in Ethiopia...do yourself a favor and go on a Tesfa trek. Experience of a lifetime.

walk slow. xoxo.

Ethiopia: Lalibela

I have wanted to visit Lalibela for years. It was one of those mystical destinations that plagued me. Making it to the small, northern Ethiopian town filled with underground carved churches felt like such a gift from life. Sometimes we get what we ask for...in a totally different way than we could have expected.

My friends and I, the other female fellow in Rwanda, the fellow in Uganda, and a fellow from Ethiopia flew on a little propeller plane from Addis to Lalibela a few short days after arriving in Ethiopia. We decided on Lalibela as our destination because of the trekking possibilities (in another post) and the draw of the World Heritage site that houses 13 underground churches known as the "Jerusalem of Africa." Lalibela is Ethiopia's second "holy city," behind Axum, where the 10 Commandments and Ark of the Covenant are thought to be housed. Ethiopia is predominantly Ethiopian Orthodox Christian and the religious history is fascinating and ancient. We had to see these living churches for ourselves. 

We stayed in a hotel that conveniently had no electricity or water (dang, Africa!) but we made do by sitting by the pool and complaining a lot. Luckily, by the final night all was well and we got warm showers in our hotel rooms. Traveling in Africa has taught me so much about what I have taken for granted all my life. I am so glad to learn these lessons young so that I can have a more thoughtful life than I would have without Africa. 

Anyways, the morning after we arrived we set out with a guide for a half-day tour. A half day was all we really needed, a full day would have been total over-kill. We donned our head wraps in respect (though we were told white people aren't expected to wear them) and wandered around the churches, all 13 within walking distance, and ooo'ed and ahhh'ed at the grandeur. They were as beautiful and big and inspiring as I expected all these years. 

The churches are thought to have been built in the 12th and 13th centuries when Lalibela was the capitol of Ethiopia. 

What was most impactful for me was that these churches are still in use. The town relies on these churches as their home base. They are also seen as pilgrimage sites for the faithful. Each church that we went into had believers on their knees, being blessed by priests, and elderly reading from stained books that seemed to be falling apart in their use and age. We were visiting as tourists, and we paid a hefty fee to get in as sightseers, but besides the obvious use of the churches as money-generating tourism, there was a sense of honor and respect. Of diety. 

The faithful were there among us. 

It is an honor to sit beside believers and observe their traditions and ferver. I have felt this way at holy sites in many of my travels, in Myanmar and Thailand and India and China...sometimes the holy mixes with practical tourism and someone like me finds themselves sitting next to an Ethiopian man knee deep in prayer. It's humbling to witness fervent faith that has somehow lived through generations of change (and mayhem) in Ethiopia. 

Some photos of the churches and surrounding areas....

After 2 days in Lalibela, we set out for our next adventure....trekking....


walk slow. xoxo. 

Happy...Everything.

The reality of my job, working for the "Man," and life in Africa in general means that what is transmitted through normal communication avenues is not always what turns out to be reality. 

(Isn't this life?)

Thus was my experience the day after returning from Ethiopia last week. I was exhausted from 5 full conference days, emotionally drained, and just wanted to cuddle with my cat and drink tea. But alas, the english diplomacy show must go on. I was scheduled to be the token American for a U.S. Embassy movie screening at a girls school about 1.5 hours outside Kigali. Our email communication about the event went like this...

Them: "Jessica, will you lead small discussion groups about the movie Selma to celebrate Black History Month?" 

Me: "Sure." *plans small group discussion points based on non-violent leadership as portrayed by MLK Jr. in the movie Selma.* 

fast forward to the actual event*

School Official: "Jessica, it is so great you are here to lead a school-wide celebration of International Woman's Day!" 

Me: slightly confused...."Oh yes, I am eager to lead discussion groups on Black History Month." 

School Official: "Discussion groups? Oh no...the whole school is attending, 270 students, and they look forward to talking about woman's issues with you." 

Me: "Great, where's the mic? Let's do this." 

And that is how I ended up leading a Q and A session about women's issues and America in general with 270 bright, capable, interesting girls at the Gashora School for Girls in Gashora, Rwanda. I was so impressed with the girls. The aim of the school is to give the girls an even playing field with international competition for scholarships in the US. The school is a boarding school, so the girls have a safe and comfortable place to live and are fed wholesome, nutritious food. These two factors give the girls the edge that they need to thrive. Their character and smarts are intrinsic, but it is the environment that so often holds girls back from reaching their true potential. At Gashora, the girls have their physical needs cared for, are respected, and are held to high standards that they are very capable of reaching. Over 90 Gashora graduates are studying on scholarship in the US today...and more and more will be joining them in the years to come. How fabulous. We must let girls learn. 

I was so surprised when my plans turned out to not be what was expected of the school. But in the end, talking about girl power was such a crowd pleaser and motivator. I got another experience in "going with the flow" and was inspired by such fabulous women who have a clear goal and are going for it.

Go girls! Happy International Women's Day, or Black History Month. It's all good. 

walk slow. xoxo. 

Morning Thoughts: On Faith and Fairness.

This morning while my eggs simmered over the gas stove in my new Kigali kitchen, I looked out the window into the pouring rain and saw my neighbor’s newly hired guard. He was sleeping on his back on pieces of cardboard outside my neighbors door. Surely, he is being pelted with rain, I thought, poor guy! I scooped up my bright yellow eggs, poured my coffee with coffee creamer bought at an American Walmart many months ago, and sat on my couch next to my Chinese cat, whose imported food probably costs more than an entire Rwandan family's monthly food budget. 

And then the thought hit me again. That aching thought that has haunted me since nearly the moment I landed in Africa. Why am I in here and he is out there? 

The answer in reality is simple, I live here, this is my apartment that I pay for with the job that I have. He is working, sees no pity in resting on cardboard, as I do, and is happy to be employed and to have a leisurely job. 

But there is so much more to the answer. 

If there is one thing Africa has taught me so far, it is that life - the lot we are each individually dealt - is incredibly, incredibly unfair. The dialogue of my conservative Christian upbringing would say that God created us all, placed us within our families, and has a “plan” for us. But what about my students whose families were slaughtered in front of them by their neighbors? What about the farmers who fear growing new crops, as instructed by foreign NGO’s, because they fear growing too much yield and being accused of witchcraft by their neighbors? What about the children who follow herds of goats each day after kindergarten and will never see a playground in their entire life? 

In Africa, I have clung to my faith, even when it is unpopular in vagabond circles to do so. I do not doubt that God loves me, loves all of us. I do not doubt that divinity is alive and working. But the role that God has in our lives…that belief base of a God with a “plan”  has been shattered and is being rebuilt. (Not that I will ever find a true answer, as a fallible human being). If I praise God for success, what about those who suffer?  This takes us down a path of discussion of free will, divine intervention, etc that is perhaps too deep for my baby blog, but you get my point. 

A few weeks ago after my class at Women for Women I was escorted by Eugenie to the side of the road where I would await a mini-van bus to take me to the large bus stop in town. Eugenie is a genocide widow and mother of 5 sons and one daughter. She has done well for herself, she works at the Opportunity Center as a secretary and is able to converse with me in basic English. She wears full gowns of colorful kitenge fabric and has a smooth, sweet face. While we stood by the road, I asked her about her children. She proudly informed me that all the boys were in school. And the girl stayed home to help in the house. Deciding to avoid the topic of gender equality, mostly because I was tired, I told her she must be so proud of her children and encouraged her for doing a great job as mother. “Jesus took care of me,” she replied. She pointed to her heart and said again, “Jesus.” 

My guts shook with a mixture of anger, true understanding, empathy, and awe. 

Your husband was hacked to pieces with a machete and you think that Jesus has taken care of you????

I took a deep breath, looked into her eyes, and I felt it. 

She’s right. He has. 

If you take away the belief that every singular act is caused by God, or divinity, then perhaps you can accept the good, the bad, and the ugly of life and learn to rely on God’s provision throughout. 

I don’t know. I’m still mulling through this. Surely there are books and articles by religious scholars on this exact topic. But have they sat in a room of women whose husbands were brutally slaughtered? It’s easy to repeat rhetoric and say the world is broken and full of sin, but these culturally-manipulated sentences have real-life implications for humans. Real people. Who live through shit. Who sleep on cardboard. Who eat only beans and bananas once a day. 

I am thankful my faith remains, through the questions that arise when faced with other realities. And also thankful for a broadening worldview that includes people and cultures that are vastly different than my own. Finding a faithfulness that includes all people, that allows for a world-wide God, who acknowledges the mini-van mommas in America and the baby carrying mommas in Africa, is my mission.

I want the world to be more fair. 

I want Eugenie’s daughter to go to school and for countries to stop killing their own people. 

I want to not feel guilty when I eat eggs on my couch with my spoiled cat. 

Perhaps this is the price of exposure. Exposure to other peoples and cultures, exposure to poverty, exposure to unspeakable acts. 

I guess all this is to say… I felt guilty and sad while eating breakfast today. And I needed to write it down. 

walk slow. xoxo. 

Ethiopia: A Preface.

"There are many kinds of love in this world,

 but never the same love twice." 

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Almost two years ago, and what seems like 6 lifetimes, an Ethiopian man broke my heart.

The aftermath was difficult and dramatic. And to be honest, a flame for this person (and the pain they inflicted upon me) has always burned in my heart. Perhaps that is how our deep loves stay with us after they are gone, in little vessels of fire in our depths. 

When I arrived to orientation for the fellow program in Washington DC last summer, I was clued-in that our mid-year African fellows conference might be held in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. This news caused me stress and instigated the patience of my friends who had to listen over and over to the dialogue of, "What do I do?" I was unsure of the wisdom in reaching out and questioned my ability to keep it cool and stable. 

Luckily, that question was answered for me. While on a bus one morning from Kibungo to Kigali in early December, I received a message of heartfelt repentance from the Ethiopian man who had stolen and then discarded my heart many moons ago. Thus began a journey of forgiveness, love, and ultimately - redemption. 

Against the advice of my dearest friends and family, I informed my former lover that I would be in Addis Ababa in March. Slowly, over the months that followed, we shared our new lives, re-built smidgens of trust, and decided to meet again for the first time in what seemed like centuries. My ultimate reasoning: healing and closure. I booked my ticket to Ethiopia for almost 2 weeks before the conference, giving ample time to spend hiking with my friends and spending time with him in his homeland. 

What resulted was one of the greatest, most redemptive and serendipitous (though quite emotional) experiences of my life. I am lucky. Not everyone has a chance to face their heartbreak head-on and redeem past pain. Not everyone gets the chance to sit down with someone who rejected them and be told how valuable you were to their life experiences. I truly believe this experience was a gift from God. 

I'll be blogging the Ethiopia trip in a few parts: work and play. But, it seemed fitting while sitting here in the Entebbe, Uganda airport on an ungodly long layover from Addis to Kigali, to open the dialogue honestly. Going to Ethiopia meant the world to me. It meant closure and healing and discovery and adventure. It meant realizing that I am not a replaceable piece in another person's puzzle, as I have believed for so long. It meant traveling to Ethiopia because I have a kick-ass job and not because I was following someone who couldn't love me properly. I was there for me. There was so much power in that fact.

I realized that sometimes love doesn't go away, it just changes. Burning forever in a cavern of the heart, tucked away to remind us of our humanity. Of our capacity to feel and evolve.

Ethiopia gave me a great gift of redemption, of evaluation of the past, and a clearer vision of how I want my future to be (more full of grace, more full of self-value).

I will be forever grateful. 

walk slow. xoxo.