Today was a very typical “Masha” day. Since I tend to write only when something interesting happens (or not at all) I decided that today would make a good blog entry.
I wake up at 7:30am because of a phone call. It’s an Addis number so I answer it, hoping it’s PEPFAR with news about the youth center. It isn’t. It is a very loud, confused and angry Ethiopian. He starts talking to me and I tell him he has the wrong number, and then he wants to know who I am and what number he called and, of course, he was yelling the whole time. I eventually hang up on him since it’s a pointless conversation and a waste of both of our time. Also it’s early. After the phone call I go back to bed, not wanting to wake up annoyed. Sometime around 9:00 I wake up again, put on music and do some strength exercises because I’m pretty weak and for some reason think I can climb Mt. Kilimanjaro in a few months. I tell myself I’ll actually start training next month and instead of exercising I think about exercising. I move on to the kitchen, light up the kerosene stove and put on the kettle to boil some water. While the water is boiling I do last night’s dishes. First I have to refill my jerry can; luckily the spigot in the front yard is working so I don’t have to use the well. Once I have water, I squat over a plastic bucket and pour water from a small pitcher and clean. After the dishes are clean the water is just about boiling. I make oatmeal with a bit of sugar and tea then put the rest of the boiled water in my filter so I can have it later. I lock up the kitchen and move back into my bedroom/living room, take all the meds/vitamins I’m on (I’ve been sick a lot lately) and brush my teeth. It’s around 10:00 and I head out to work.
At the office I meet with the leader of the HIV Positive People’s Assoc and ask him if he has obtained the land certificate and building permit so we can begin construction on the milling house. He gives me a certificate for something else (this is all in Amharic by the way, which makes it funnier). I tell him that’s not what we needed and he admits he hasn’t asked yet and that he’ll do it tomorrow. I remind him that I’m leaving Masha in 6 weeks and that we need to work FAST. He reacts like this is the first time he’s hearing this information and starts freaking out and then promises to get the certificates. Then I ask him to call his contractor and set up a meeting, when would he be available? He answers that it will take a month to build the milling house. I ask again, but when can we have a meeting so we can begin construction? He looks at me like I’m crazy and repeats that it will take a month. Another failed conversation. I try to reword my questions and ask if I can meet with him and the contractor on Monday morning. He finally understands and we set up a meeting. Oh how I wish my counterpart didn’t leave for grad school…I could really use his interpreting skills. I go a few doors down and sit at my desk and start making lists. What do I need to do to pack up my house? What do I want to do when I go to America? Who do I want to see when I go to America? What do I need to bring back from America? Who else can I ask for donations for this milling project? What am I going to make for lunch? How many days until America? Once I run out of questions to ask myself I pull out a magazine and read a few articles. It’s just about lunch time now, so I head out.
On my way home my zero-English-speaking friend calls to me from some random mud hut. She tells me to come have tea with her, I have nothing else to do so I oblige. She’s getting her hair braided by a woman who is now my sister. I had to promise to come back before I leave Masha to get my hair braided, too (ha). After her hair is finished they tell me to go inside the house and we’ll all have tea. Turns out they don’t have anything to make tea with, so they leave me alone, watching some random kid, to go buy tea, sugar and biscuits. I’m playing with the kid and we’re laughing and having a good time, he’s speaking to me in Amharic and I’m speaking to him in English, making no sense to each other. He climbs on my lap, I figure to touch my hair or my freckles (that’s why most kids get close to me) but he had a different agenda. He reaches in my shirt and tries to pull out a breast…this 2 year old kid wants to breast feed. My initial reaction is to throw him off my lap, but then I bust out laughing. It’s kind of funny. Eventually my friends come back. We make tea and have inane conversation about work, the other volunteers that live in Masha, my moving to Addis Ababa and other non-important things. Even after 2 years this is awkward for me. I’m awful at small talk in English, but in Amharic I’m even worse. After what seems like hours I head home.
Walking home I have to stop and greet a handful of people, some are friends, some are people that I vaguely know and some are people that know me but I don’t even recognize. It’s market day so a lot of beggars are out so I need to politely tell them I’m not going to give them money, but God will provide. It’s also still summer vacation so all the children are out chanting my name and ambushing me for handshakes. Eventually I get home. At this point I no longer want lunch because of all the fried biscuits my friend force fed me earlier so I turn on music and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. You’d be surprised how long I can do this and not get bored. After some time I read a few chapters before I’m hungry again. I go to my kitchen for a snack (crackers and easy cheese from my last care package…thanks ma!) and when I walk in I find myself surrounded by the dreaded flesh eating ants. They are absolutely everywhere. I take some toilet paper and start squishing them and interrupting their marching formations. I do this for about half an hour, the whole time the ants are crawling all over me. My hands are tingling because they are biting me so much…my hands are completely covered. Then I realize they’ve been climbing up my legs and I’m getting bitten everywhere, and it hurts. I finally can’t take it anymore and splash water all over the room, spray the edges of the walls, especially where there are large holes and run. We’ll see later if that helped anymore or if I have to start all over. An hour later I’m still picking them off of me.
I return to my bedroom and turn the music on again and veg out for a while longer making myself a list of things to do when the power comes back on (it has) and things to do if it stops raining (it hasn’t). Writing this blog entry is on the list. For the rest of the day I’ll finish the items on the list, most are work related. I’ll eventually go back into my kitchen to assess the killer ant situation. If it’s under control I’ll make dinner, if not, I’ll ask another volunteer to make me dinner because I can’t stand to be eaten again. After dinner I’ll probably watch an episode or two of How I Met Your Mother (which I’m watching for the second time) and do some crazy exercise video with my site mate. Maybe we’ll play a game of Catan when we finish that. Around 9:00 I’ll get into bed and read for a while and go to bed.
So that’s a typical day in Masha. If it’s not a kid trying to find milk it’s some creeper guy hitting on me. If it’s not ants I’m cleaning up it’s mud. Seems crazy that I’ve been doing this for 2 years, even crazier that I love it. However, it’s definitely time to move on.
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