Saturday, May 28, 2011

Circles

I feel like my life is repeating itself, but this time I'm ready for it.

A couple of months ago now I attended the environment group's In-Service Training (every volunteer group has this training three months into their service). I was asked to come to give a safety and security presentation because of all the crazy things that happen to me (it's got to be somebody, right?). I had a meeting in Addis a few days later so instead of traveling the 3 days back to Masha only to turn around and travel 3 days to Addis, I stayed to help out with the entire training. While the content was completely different, and my people weren't there, and I wasn't a trainee, a lot of the emotions, insecurities and triumphs were the same. It made me think back to where I was a year before, which if you remember, was not a good time in my life. It was the closest I ever was to coming home early. I was terrified of the crazy guy in my town, I had just watched that poor boy drown, and I was depressed thinking about death and how it was surrounding me. There were a few other things going on at that time, but those were the biggest. Needless to say, I was not a pleasant person to be around during my IST and felt like I was alienating myself from my group by being such a downer. Watching the newer volunteers at that point in their service really reminded me of that time and how far I've come. The questions they had and the anxieties they expressed were all the same things I was worried about at that time, but being a year later I couldn't help but laugh (if you G4 kids are reading, don't be offended, you'll laugh, too, when you realize how little any of those things matter).

A month or so after IST the cycle continued: the Hawassa EveryOne Race. Last year I was adamant about not running. I do not enjoy running for the sake of running…if it's to play a game or sport that's no problem, but at that time 7K did not sound appealing. I still went to Hawassa last year, though, and cheered everyone on and took photos for those who ran. The company of other volunteers was definitely the highlight of that weekend, and it actually is still one of the best weekends in Ethiopia that I can remember. This year, though, I did it…I ran the 7K! I had planned on just walking with a friend, but as we left the starting line with the thousands of other runners we were inspired. We ran most of the way (of course we needed walking breaks…we're not runners!) and it felt great. I wiped out once, which was pretty hilarious, and had some nice bloody gashes to show off at the finish line. We ended up running with an Ethiopian girl (who was really the reason why we ran instead of walked) who was pretty good company. I later found out that she was 14. I wouldn't say that this year's race was a better weekend, but I'm proud of myself for finishing the race. And surprised that the race was actually the highlight of the weekend.


A bit later my life repeated itself again: I went on a waterfall hike. I've been kind of avoiding waterfalls since last year (there are a surprising number in my area). I figured enough time had passed and it was time to get over it, and a few other volunteers were visiting so it seemed like a good time to go see the Sor Waterfall (the second largest in Ethiopia). The hike was about 5 hours shorter this time, and I actually brought water and snacks along this time. I'm also much better at walking through slippery mud (I still fell a few times, but had a better sense of humor about it this time around). I wasn't worrying about breaking a leg the whole time, I was laughing at the harsh conditions and knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to hike to a waterfall. When we were making the final descent to the water I was overcome with memories and emotions, not sure if I wanted to go any further. But I did, and had a good time laughing, getting drenched by the mist and slipping in the mud with all my friends. A far cry from the year before – it was a safe and successful trip.


The next night was another life experience repeat: the annual honey harvest! This time I knew where I was going and what we were doing. Instead of wearing Capri pants I wore long pants, tucked into my socks, a jacket with a hood and better shoes. Instead of getting stung 5 times, I didn't get stung at all. Instead of eating a whole comb at the first basket I paced myself so I didn't have to be rude and refuse to eat any at the second basket. I didn't cringe at the thought of eating the larvae "for strength", instead I asked for a bite. I felt like a pro.


It feels good to be comfortable in this life. I have to admit though, knowing what's coming and being ready kind of takes the fun out of it. The first time around everything was so new and a bit scary. The fascination of watching the men climb trees with nothing but a rope and go head first into a nest of angry bees will never be the same as the first time. Hiking in the muddy, wet, untraveled Ethiopian jungle will always remind me of that first time, but the emotion and sadness that came from that day will never be matched, I've grown numb and less affected by death since being here. I'll never have the optimism and hope that the newer volunteers have just starting their service, full of ideas and ambitions. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, it's probably a good sign that I'm so comfortable and used to this life, but I do miss the feeling of everything being new and exciting. I hope that in the last 6 months I still have some surprises left.