One Step at a Time...

Dehana dikum?!?

So its been forever since my last blog post and for that I apologize. There’s been a lot going on over here in Ethiopia, and I’ve finally now had a chance to catch my breath and catch up on things I’ve been neglecting.

Since my last blog post, I feel like I’ve been around the world and back again. I spent the first two weeks of June in Hawassa, Addis, and Wukro working on stuff for Peer Support Network, a committee I’m on that supports Peace Corps volunteers in country emotionally, and for the regional summer camp I’ll be participating in next week. After that, I took a brief vacation in Germany and Italy, visiting my family and best friend respectively. It was a great vacation, full of surprises (my mom and grandma had no idea I was coming), fun, and quality time with people who meant a lot to me. I got back 2 weeks ago, and since then I finished up a project I started before I left (a tree planting with two schools that planted over 600 trees!) and, of course, fought off a welcome back sickness (thanks Ethiopia).

So even though I’ve had such an amazing past month and a half, why is it that I’ve kinda been in a slump the past few days? I think it’s a combination of a lot of things. I was kinda hesitant about going on the vacation, because I was worried about how it would affect my return. Unfortunately, it has bummed me out a bit. I really, really miss my family, friends, and home countries (America and Germany) a lot, and while the vacation gave me a rare chance to see them again, it really reaffirmed what I missed about them too. I tried not to get to comfortable while vacationing, but despite my best efforts I got used to it again only too readily. Coming back to Ethiopia wasn’t difficult, but knowing I’m still going to be here for another year and a half is.

You see, I’m one of those people who’ve always wanted to see and do a lot. Ever since I first discovered there was a world bigger than my backyard in Texas I’ve wanted to see it, and my to-do list only gets bigger with time. I want to see and do everything! I want to go back to Germany for several years to perfect my language skills. I want to get lost in the wilds of Alaska. I want to run with the wolves in Minnesota… spend a cold, rainy afternoon in Seattle… track the elusive jaguar in the heart of the Amazon…. Australia, Costa Rica, London, Botswana, Nepal, New York, Barcelona… The list of places I want to see and/or live in goes on for a while.

You see, traveling is one of my favorite things to do in the world, but every time I travel I simply get more and more excited for what I will do next. I’m like a kid in the candy store, who, when he finally gets those skittles he’s been waiting for all week (since he’s been a good boy), is already thinking about the snickers he will ask for next week! Normally, the skittles I’m eating at the time are so good I only think about the snickers occasionally and spend most of my time enjoying the rainbow. But alas, I am struggling to do that right now. The pace of life here in Ethiopia is so much slower with so much free time, that I spend a lot more time anticipating what I want to do in the future.

But wait, didn’t you post a blog a few months ago saying you love the slow pace of life and have learned to live in the moment? Indeed I did, and yes I do regress at times (this being one of those times). For those of you who know me, you know that I am a busybody. It doesn’t matter how well I adapt to this slower pace of life, I will always crave the hustle and bustle of a busy, crazy lifestyle. And I am realizing that there’s nothing wrong with that. Even if I do get frustrated with the pace at times here and worry that I won’t be able to do everything I want to in life, I’m still enjoying every moment of it in the end. Because every time I try to get angry at this place, it gives me something to smile about again. I’ve been working on this post over the past two days. At the start of the post I was angry and bored. Since then I’ve shared beles (a delicious cactus fruit) with friends, watched a movie with my family, and butchered my way through a Tigrena conversation with at least 5 people I didn’t even know. For all my griping and complaining and teen angst (for you Taylor, though you never read these), I will miss the crap out of this place when I leave. I love Ethiopia, so for now I enjoy the great moments, ride out the bad, and look forward with great anticipation on everything to come.

Parting is such sweet sorrow...

It really is. I know it’s a cheesy, overused line from one of the greatest love stories ever told (at least in some people’s opinions… or maybe just in mine), but the line is used so much because of the truth it has to it. This past week I had to part with two very good friends, and though I was incredibly sad to see them go (and losing them both in the same week REALLY sucked), I couldn’t help but reflect on the time we had together and be grateful. Today I want to dedicate this post to these two outstanding individuals and the difference they have made to my Peace Corps experience.

Last Monday, I had to say good-bye to my best friend and tutor, Getachew. I met Getachew during site visit way back in October. He was already best friends with Mike, the awesome Canadian VSO volunteer in town, and it was only natural that Mike would introduce us. I liked Getachew from the start: he was smart, kind, and just as excited to have me in Maichew as I was to be there. Of all the Ethiopians I’d met in country, he was the first one I automatically hit it off with. Ethiopian culture is so different than our own, that it makes it difficult to make great friends. The obvious language barrier combined with the overfriendliness, lack of similar interests, and completely different sense of humor (Ethiopians really do laugh at the strangest things) makes Ethiopians fun to hang out with, but only for a little while before things get awkward. Getachew was different, partially because he has met and befriended many foreigners in his life but mostly because he’s just so dang awesome. He’s funny, smart and hard-working, understands that foreigners are not that touchy-feely, and knows that when we politely decline kolo (a delicious snack of roasted grains) it’s because we really don’t want any and asking 568 more times will not change our mind.

Once I moved to site for good, Getachew was instrumental in my acclimation to Maichew. He helped me out so much in the beginning, going to market with me, teaching me Tigrena, introducing me to people, and just showing me around in general. We hung out so much over the past few months, and really got to be close friends. What impressed me so much about Getachew was his kindness: he would drop whatever he was doing and help me whenever I needed it. An English teacher at the local preparatory school, he even invited me to class to help out, an activity I enjoyed tremendously. So when Getachew told me he wanted to apply to be an LCF (language and culture facilitator, the people who taught us PCV's the language and culture during our first three months of training) and that he wanted me to write him a recommendation letter, I was only more than happy to. When Getachew got the job about a month later, I was ecstatic! I was sad because this meant he would move and I would lose a good friend, but I was more happy than anything that this kind and clever friend of mine was finally getting the opportunity to see new places and do something great. He was a hard worker, and deserved this amazing opportunity he got.

Christina I met about a month after I’d been living in Maichew, during the Tigray Olympics. She was a young, 19 year old German who just finished school and wanted to do something amazing before starting college. Through connections her godfather had in the Catholic church, she came here in October (eerily, only a day before we arrived) to be an English teacher at the local Catholic primary school. Over the last 8 months, she’s been teaching English and helping out with other projects in the community, volunteering her time and money to help out. It’s quite amazing some of the projects she’s been able to help with (including a seed distribution project in the community), and even more amazing how well she incorporated into the community. Christina loves kids, and was so awesome with them even though some of these kids are nasty. I’m sorry but it’s true (the 5 year old in my compound has blown snot rockets bigger than I ever could). Yet Christina would always shake their hands and play with them, no matter how dirty they were. She knew so many people in Maichew, and was another instrumental person in helping me meet and incorporate into my community.

And, of course, she was also a great friend. Since we became friends we hung out almost every day. Life in Ethiopia is rough (remember the emotional roller coaster?), and it was great to be able to have someone to talk, joke, and just relax with when things weren’t going great. It was such a relief to have a good friend in town who understood the frustrations of living in a culture so unlike your own. And she was just cool in general. We spent a lot of time together hanging out, talking about the future, practicing my German, and discussing what was going to happen next on One Tree Hill… Not that we watched it every Monday thru Friday when it came on at 5:30pm on FoxMovies. I mean she would, but I would go outside and do push-ups (which is why I did so well in the push-up competition). She left Friday morning, and I was definitely very sad to see her go.

Sometimes I feel like life is just a series of good-byes. You meet someone, you become friends, and before you know it you’re saying good-bye to them, whether it be temporary or for an unknown length of time. It has especially felt that way to me lately, what with how much I moved as a kid, then leaving for college, and then four years later leaving for here. Every time I meet someone really awesome, it seems our time is up before we really even started being friends. This really bothered me at first, but then I came to realize the blessing it was because of an important revelation I had. Though I’ve said a lot of goodbyes, I’ve also been able to meet and learn a lot from quite a variety of people. Meeting all these different people from different cultures has really made me better as a person, because it was what taught me how important it is to look at the world through a different pair of eyes other than your own. I’m grateful for everyone that’s been in my life, no matter how short, because all of them taught me or gave me something important. Getachew showed me the best part of Ethiopian culture, which is its kindness. During my hardest, most frustrating moments when I’m sick of Ethiopia and annoyed with every person here, I reflect on the overabundant kindness and genuine love those like Getachew have shown me and remember how good these people ultimately are. Christina was what helped keep me sane: she was that person I could have fun with, vent to every once in a while, and talk with about life outside of the Peace Corps when you just need a break. And even more, her love and helping attitude was a constant reaffirmation of my own goal here, which was to help others and be a part of something bigger than yourself.

It sucks to see people go, but in the end you have to be grateful for the time you were given. Christina and Getachew made my first few months here in Ethiopia easier and more fun than I could have ever imagined. I love them both for it, and will miss them every day they’re out exploring and making the world a better place to live.

"Fishikta" means "Smile" in Tigrena

The past week has been a VERY busy week for me; probably one of the busiest I’ve had in country yet. That’s because this past week I had the amazing opportunity to volunteer for one of the coolest NGO’s out there: Operation Smile.

For those who don’t know what Operation Smile does, they go all around the world fixing cleft lips and cleft palates. Cleft lips and palates are deformities of the lip and palate, and can range anywhere from a very slightly misshapen lip to a person missing their palate altogether. While not usually life threatening (except in the case of missing palates), they often create severe speech problems and can even make it difficult for these people to be accepted by their community. The problems can usually be fixed by surgery, and so Operation Smile is currently working in dozens of countries to help people with these problems. These “missions” last on average about 10 days, and during that time a team of surgeons, pediatricians, nurses, dentists, volunteers, and locals work as hard as they can to help as many people as possible. In some countries, the operation smile missions have become sustainable and are run completely by local doctors and volunteers. More often than not, however, people from all over the world volunteer not only their time but also their money to be a part of this. Yes, even the surgeons actually PAY to help others!

So how did I fit into this amazing organization? My job as a Peace Corps volunteer on this mission was simple: help out wherever was needed. And boy did we work. We helped with paperwork, running errands, moving stuff, and even translation! The first two days were screening days, where we screened over 200 patients about their medical history and speech abilities in order to determine if they were a candidate for surgery. Patients that were malnourished or sick were turned away the same day, because putting them under anesthesia would be too dangerous and might result in their death. They were asked to return in October for the next mission, giving them another chance to be helped. Unfortunately, there were still only a limited number of surgery slots available and too many potential candidates. The third day was all about telling those people who couldn’t be helped to come back in October. One case in particular was tough, when a young child who was missing his palate entirely had bad results from his blood tests and was determined too risky to operate. When we told the dad that his child was too sick to be helped at that time, he broke down in front of us in one of the most heart-wrenching things I’ve seen. Even though we encouraged him to come back in October, he wasn’t sure he could afford to come all the way back across the country (as he was from the south). Operation Smile helped him out as much as they could and sent him on his way, but it was a rough day for all involved.

Nevertheless, surgeries began on the fourth day and continued for five or six days after that, and what an amazing time that was. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, we often have to spend a lot of time putting projects together. They can take months or even years of work before completion, and even then projects can still fail or may take several years after the volunteer has left to fully come into fruition. This can be tough, because we’re constantly frustrated by how little results we see. Operation Smile was amazing in that we saw how much it helped people right away. So many kids were being helped every day, and it was such a wonderful thing to see the reactions to their new faces. I was even allowed to go into the operating room and watch the operations underway! The recovery after surgeries was painful and would take a while, but overall there was a great feeling of happiness and accomplishment for all involved.

Overall, the week was exactly the boost I needed. Times can get tough here, and sometimes in our most frustrated moments we tend to lose sight of the fact that we’re here to help people. Although I was extremely exhausted after my week in Mekele (we joked that we went from 30 minute days to 12 hour days overnight), I’m so, so, so grateful to Operation Smile for the opportunity to see the difference they made in people’s lives. This is a great organization, and if you ever get the chance you should check them out at www.operationsmile.org today. This experience will literally change your life forever.

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

Hey again!

Over the past 7 months I’ve been keeping pretty regular blogs. The topics vary greatly, but in all of them I constantly mention about how much I’m learning about myself… without actually talking much about what I’ve learned. And when my parents asked me about this the other day, I didn’t really give a great answer. So I decided to dedicate this post to talking about myself and trying to put into words what I’ve learned about me. Wait, really?  A blog post all about you Bernard? Isn’t that kind of…. Egotistical? It very well may be, but I think it will really help me in the journey of self-discovery I’ve embarked on here in Ethiopia. Especially because I won’t just be talking about the good things. I’ll be talking about the bad and the ugly things too.

The Good: I can be a really patient person. You need a lot of patience and flexibilty in Ethiopia, because you’re dealing with a culture that is very, very different from your own. Work is much, much slower, people have completely different social etiquette (that includes lots of staring and no personal bubble), and neither of us can understand each other about 75% of the time. Dealing with that takes a lot of patience, not only with others but with yourself as well. Going from America to Europe is a slight culture shock, but going from America to Ethiopia is a shock equivalent to a lightning strike. You’re not ready, you didn’t know it was coming, and oftentimes you find yourself babbling incoherently while everyone stares at you.

The Bad: I’m not a good housekeeper. Cleaning, cooking, and maintaining the house was never something I had to do all by myself before (I always had roommates or family), so I didn’t realize how much work it was. I knew how to do all these things (though clearly I didn’t know how to cook well), but to have to do them every day by yourself kinda sucks. I always loved my mom and I knew she worked hard, but this has definitely allowed me to see mothers everywhere in a new light.

The Ugly: The patience I mentioned earlier does not exist when little children are around. I’m getting better, but for the first 6 months I occasionally wanted to go on a Halo-esque killing spree when the little kids in the town annoyed me. Every time the 5 year old in my compound so much as looked at me wrong, I considered accidentally locking her out of the compound one night and hoping the hyenas found her before her mom did.

The Good: I’m pretty good at learning languages and adjusting to other cultures. Learning Tigrena has been tough, but I am incredibly proud of the progress I’ve made since I got here in October. A year ago, I didn’t even know this language existed, and yet today I can actually tell people that in Tigrena. Plus, I’ve really adapted well to Ethiopian culture, and can even handle the things I’m not super comfortable with. I do have to say that this is probably no real testament to my skill. I was really lucky in that I was raised in a bilingual house and moved a lot when I was little. I was exposed to these things from an early age, which probably helped me considerably.

The Bad: I’m really good at doing nothing. I’m not sure what it is, but I just can’t seem to do productive things with my time (outside of work). I have SO much free time here in Ethiopia that you would think after four months I would have picked up a constructive hobby or two. But that’s not the case. Sometimes at the end of the day when I look back trying to figure out what I did all day, I realize the only accomplishment I can really chalk up is that I finished another season of Friends.

The Ugly: I’m really out of shape. Now, Ethiopia is much higher up than where I lived in Texas, so I was going to lose some endurance regardless. But even so my condition is ridiculous. Since I’ve been here I’ve had a number of things point out how bad it really is. During IST, I got last place in a push-up contest. Before that, I helped push a horse cart about 100 feet up a hill and had a cough the rest of the day because of it. And to top it all off, I tried to start Insanity once, a really intensive workout program that’s all about keeping track of how much you’ve improved… In a lot of the exercises, the people in the video’s improvements were higher than what I could do in the first place!!! It’s sad really. But you know what the absolute worst part is? Ask me if this pitiful display has actually inspired me to work out yet. Because it hasn’t.

The Good: I am not a quitter. I never noticed this before, but when I commit myself to something I do it. I have committed the next two years of my life to Peace Corps and it is simply not an option for me to quit. Even on my worst days, when I’m annoyed with people here, bored out of my mind, and really, really missing my family and friends back in the states, the thought never crosses my mind that I should quit. I wanted to come here, and I am going to see it to the finish. And of the things within my control, there’s nothing that will prevent me from doing it big.

The Bad and The Ugly: Frankly, I could go on forever in these two categories. In the interest of staying positive (and also for my own self esteem), let’s just end on a good note, eh?

So that’s just a few of the major lessons I’ve learned since I’ve been here. The list could go on and on, but I just wanted to give you some insight on how Peace Corps has enlightened me. I feel so much more in tune with myself and confident in who I am here, and I’m so grateful that I decided to embark on this grand adventure. It’s been one of the greatest decisions of my life.

"There's No Place Like Home..."

So I know it’s been quite some time since my last blog update, and for that I apologize. It’s been a hectic few weeks here in Ethiopia, though, and it’s only in the past few days that I’ve finally been able to breathe again.

The culprit for my busyness was IST, or In-Service Training. It was just over two weeks of really intensive, but extremely helpful, technical training for our group. We learned about how to start/manage tree nurseries, how to effectively design and implement projects, how to build effective soil and water conservation structures, and much, much more. We had training every day for 15 days (including weekends)! Training was in Hawassa, which is deep in the south of Ethiopia. Since I am far to the north, there was a lot of traveling involved over several days to get us there and back (including a brief detour to visit our old host families in Addis Alem).

All of the traveling to and from IST definitely wore me out. While I love Ethiopia, my least favorite thing to do in this country is to travel. Everything about it spells nightmare for anyone daring to test the waters. From the incredibly small buses (which I’m convinced were actually designed for pygmies, since I have yet to find one that even fits Ethiopians, who are quite short), to the annoying people in the bus station screaming “WHERE ARE YOU GO?!?” as soon as you are within a 25 foot radius of the entrance, to the insane amounts of switchbacks, unplanned stops, and puking people that plague every 4 hour journey of 120 km, traveling in this country just plain out sucks.

Now, I know I’m no guru when it comes to patience, but I would say that I have grown quite patient indeed over my 6 months here in Ethiopia. I can spend hours at a time just sitting around waiting for stuff to happen (which is often the case when you are travelling or simply bored at site) quite easily without really freaking out or getting angry. Needless to say, however, after travelling so much over the past few weeks, I was just about fed up by the time I was on the final stretch. I spent 9 hours on the bus in just ONE day while travelling, so by the time I was almost to Maychew my patience was stretched less than thin. People were annoying me all day, my knees hurt, I was angry and extremely tired, and I just missed the comforts of the US. I wanted to be home. I knew that the next Ethiopian who even looked at me wrong was about to experience some ferenji wrath unlike anything they had ever seen before…

And then I finally got to Maychew. And I saw all the friends and people I knew. And kids called my name in the streets. And I sat my stuff down in my house and fell onto my bed with a sigh of relief. And my second family told me just how much they missed me and invited me over for food and bunna. And I thought about how there really is no place like home.... And it was at that moment that I knew no matter how much I missed my family, friends, food, and everything else the US has to offer, for now I feel at home right here in Maychew, nestled under the watchful gaze of Mt. S’ibet. And I was happy.

God Made Dirt and it Don't Hurt... But Guns Certainly Do

So I know it’s been a while since my last blog post and for that I apologize deeply. However, there were several reasons, all of which were out of my control. The first reason was that the computer in my fan died for about two weeks. It has since rejuvenated itself a little, but it is still functioning poorly and I have been limiting my use of my computer until I can get the fan replaced (which may not be for a while).  In addition to this, I have been pretty busy with a language camp Peace Corps gave us and with working on finishing my CNA report for Peace Corps.

But despite my problems, my time over the past few weeks has been really awesome. As I just mentioned I’ve been super busy working on my report, which has allowed me to get to know lots of other people in the community that I otherwise wouldn’t have known. In addition, I’ve actually been busy! It’s been great to actually have lots of stuff to do and not have long periods of sitting around. Not to say that my current standards for “busy” fit what we would describe as “busy” in the United States, but for me it has been nice regardless.

There are a lot of standards that have changed for me here, especially when it comes to what I define as “dirty”. It’s funny, because some of the first signs that you are adapting as a Peace Corps Volunteer are when your standards begin to change. When I first got here, I had a personal bubble, wanted to take showers every day, and definitely did not eat food fallen on the floor. Today, none of those apply anymore. Personal bubbles do not exist in Ethiopia, and it finally doesn’t bother me when an Ethiopian grabs me by the arm (or even hand!) when we’re walking places or touches me affectionately in a way that would creep most Americans out. It still makes me laugh sometimes to think how I used to stare at things that I see every single day now. Dirt has also become the final ingredient in pretty much every dish I make, because I have yet to make a dish where I haven’t dropped something on the floor, wiped it off, and tossed it back into the pan. Ironically, I haven’t been sick as much since I started cooking… I’m convinced the two are related. And showers? What does that word even mean anymore? The armpit “sniff check” has now become a cough check. When I sniff and it makes me frown, I know I’m still good for a day or two. It’s when I sniff and start to cough that I know I should probably shower soon.

Now that I’ve thoroughly grossed you out, you should know that while I am exaggerating a little bit (I shower twice a week guys, so don’t freak out) I really have warmed up to Ethiopia so much. I love this place and everything about it. Nothing really scares me anymore…. Well except for that one night during language training. I didn’t even tell this story to my parents (because I figured my mom would freak out less reading than hearing this story?) but me and a couple of friends had a bit of a scare during language camp. We had a movie night, and decided we wanted to watch Hotel Rwanda because several of us hadn’t seen it. Well the movie is clearly super intense, but it also made us a little paranoid since we’re so much closer to where this happened than when I watched it at home. As we were walking one of the girls back to her house after the movie, we heard a loud “BANG” coming from the direction of the field in front of her house. We paused to listen more carefully and heard several more bangs followed by loud screaming.

Now we had JUST finished watching Hotel Rwana, so that was all it took for us to turn right around and start scuttling back to the house we had just come from… Well all except for one volunteer who decided he needed to see what was going on. When we realized we were missing one, my friend went to go fetch him back while I stood on the corner keeping an eye on the two guys and the girl knocking on the gate trying to get back in the house. That was when two random Ethiopians decided would be the best time to emerge from the shadows in front of me: with guns. They were coming roughly from the direction of the loud bangs, so I immediately got really scared and started to back away slowly. I must have startled them, however, because they looked up at me surprised and told me to come here. I didn’t think that was such a good idea and kept backing away…. Until one of them kinda sorta pointed their gun AT ME. This is where it got both super scary and super funny, because I start to freak out and in my angst somehow learned to speak Tigrena fluently. I tried to explain to them that I was actually a foreigner and that I had nothing to do with the bangs, but they didn’t seem to believe me because I look Ethiopian and was speaking Tigrena. The girl behind me sees the guns and hears me telling them that I am a foreigner and starts to freak out and bang on the gate, while our friend inside the gate (which is locked from the inside) is also banging on the gate and screaming at the maid to open the door. This dramatic moment passes in a very long few seconds before I finally regain my English and convince the dudes that the danger is elsewhere. Soon after, our guy friends return, the maid opens the gate, and we all scurry to safety.

In the end we weren’t in any real danger. Turns out someone was drunk and shot a gun off in the air a few times to impress their friends inside their compound, scaring all their neighbors. The rest of the dudes with guns were off duty police trying to figure out what happened. I'd like to stress that I wasn't really in danger, and have never before or since ever felt unsafe here in Ethiopia. This did not happen in the town I live in, and I love at how secure and content I feel here: I feel more secure walking the streets at night here than I ever would in the states, even in a small town like Killeen, Texas. Nevertheless, it was a crazy moment for all involved, and it will definitely be a story for me to tell over and over again. I can’t wait to see what news crazy stories I will be able to share in the future!

My Own Personal Coney Island Cyclone

Emotional roller coasters are an interesting thing. Even if you know you’re on one, the highs and lows still take you by complete surprise every time. On a real roller coaster you can see the drops coming. You feel yourself getting tenser and tenser on that first, long upward climb, dreading and welcoming that moment when you’re at the top and all you have left to do is to take the plunge. You’re ready for the fall. You live for it. But when it comes to emotional roller coasters, you can never be ready for the falls and they are not even close to anything you could call fun. You can be cruising along all content when all of a sudden you are falling without warning, not knowing the reason why or how long the fall will be.

Over the past few days, I found myself on such a fall. As much as I love Peace Corps, this job can be incredibly difficult in the sense that you rely almost entirely on other people to accomplish your work. As much Tigrena as I know, it isn’t near enough to accomplish things on my own. So when my counterpart is busy, as he often is, I spend lots of time wandering the city and trying to find something to do. My counterpart has been incredibly busy lately and so I accomplished very little at work. Most of my friends were also busy, and so I spent a good part of the time just hanging out by myself. Now don’t get me wrong. I always have a lot of free time and I usually enjoy time with myself. But the past few days were much slower than the norm, and I was running out of ways to entertain myself. By Sunday, I was out of things to do, and beginning to feel pretty… how do you say... “blah”. I was unmotivated, incredibly bored, and had little idea of how to pull myself out of my funk. I tried to shake it off, but in the end I just went to bed and figured I’d wake up feeling better the next day…

But Monday, I felt even worse. I had one of those days where I woke up and just knew my day was going to suck. Unfortunately, this time it actually did. I accomplished nothing at work, missed all my friends and family in the US a lot, couldn’t focus and did terrible during my Tigrena lesson, and was just tired and cranky all day long. By late afternoon when my counterpart called to cancel our trip into the field the next day, I was done. I had done little to no real work for several days now, and I was becoming incredibly frustrated with doing nothing. I went home and shut myself in my room so that I could wallow in self pity to make myself feel better. Fortunately for me, my family decided they wouldn’t let me and bugged me for several hours until I finally began to lift a little out of the funk I’d been in. By nightfall I was laughing and no longer a sourpuss, and, while I still had no idea how I was going to accomplish any work this week, I was determined to try. They always say that the early bird gets the worm, so I set my alarm for 530 and decided I was going to go for a sunrise hike the next day to see what animals I could record for my inventory.

The hike yesterday was the best decision I could have made. I don’t know how I can ever live without mountains again, because the majesty of mountain peaks, gorges, and valleys in the early morning light is unparalleled. I hiked for over 2 hours, watching the colors of my surroundings change from shadows full of mystery to vivid greens, blues, browns, and greys that I knew held the secrets of life. I sat and listened to the birds waken, singing their songs of thankfulness and happiness to the sun for returning to warm them. I felt the trees and rocks around me begin to stir, groaning and stretching from lying still for so long during the night. And I watched the river race noisily over the rocks, taking the knowledge whispered to it by the mountain it originated in to an unknown destination miles from where I was. And as I sat there watching, hearing, and listening to all these creative things that really only existed in my head, a phrase often quoted to us by our trainees echoed once again in my head. Just like the quiet, sleepy hike that I had somehow turned into my own rendition of Pocahontas’s “Colors of the Wind”, “this experience would only be as much as I made out of it.”

And so, with my new determination, I returned to the city to have what had to be my busiest day in Ethiopia so far. I had a productive meeting with my counterpart. I visited the high school again and finally met the environmental club teacher that I had been wanting to meet for a long time, where we made plans for me to help out with the club in the future. A teacher I met at the high school accompanied me to the Agriculture College I’d also been dying to visit, where I was given a tour and had the opportunity to establish a relationship with the vice dean with the promise that we would collaborate on projects in the future. I also visited a primary school I hadn’t yet been to and also met their environmental club leader and vice principal. By the time I went home that day, I was exhausted but happy, content with the many possibilities I had just opened up.

You see, while emotional roller coasters are difficult, they are even better than the wood and metal contraptions. While you are at the top of a real roller coaster, you aren’t looking around to enjoy the view. You are anticipating the upcoming fall, maybe even wishing you were safely on the ground again. The great thing about not seeing when the fall will come is that you have time to pause and enjoy every moment of the view at the top, a memory that will last forever no matter how many times you fall.