america the beau-tee-ful

There are moments when I think about my journey to Ethiopia and muse about how I came to be in Bahir Dar.

But I know I’m not the only person or thing from the States that has made the voyage to this country, as I’m daily reminded by the t-shirts that adorn the chests of Ethiopian men and women in the streets of my city.

“How did that shirt get here?”

I ask myself this question almost as much as I ask myself how the hell I got here.

And I can’t help but marvel at the variety. Below, a smattering:

College t-shirts. They come from every corner of the US. A selection of those I’ve seen: Kentucky, Kansas, Kansas St., Creighton, Ball St., Tulane, Maryland, Ohio St., Stanford, Notre Dame, UCLA. The South Carolina Gamecocks. Duke Blue Devils and Michigan Wolverines. Nothing from UWM, though.

A proud display

Wisconsin sports teams are well represented. I’ve seen a Marquette Soccer shirt, Bucky Badger, and the Milwaukee Bucks. Milwaukee Brewers, too, if you count my Ganj-Box Section t-shirt (but I don’t). I’ve seen quite a few Packers Tees, including a 2007 NFC Champions shirt. Yup.

I’ve seen bezu military shirts. Desert Storm, check. Iraq Part II, check. I’ve seen a Vietnam shirt. You know, the one with the military ribbons on it. There are all sorts of shirts for myriad “warrior” athletic competitions. I’ve also seen a shirt for aafes.com. Really? AAFES made T-shirts?

My personal favorites are the hilariously random shirts. In one day, I saw two shirts with the phrase “s—faced.” Another said, “Hey, you’re a crazy b—-“ I’ve seen a shirt for Bloomington Parks and Recreation. One man’s shirt declared, “I’m a keeper.” Another, “Yes, I look this good all the time.” One that would normally receive a massive eye roll in another life made me a tad nostalgic: “Don’t Mess With Texas.”

If I didn’t know better, the shirts around town would have me convinced that Ethiopians are the most philanthropic people around. (Are they?) Charity run/walk shirts – what I call Michael Scott shirts – are everywhere. Pick any combo of distance and cause and I’ve probably seen it.

Then there are the always-enjoyable brand knockoffs. (I know these aren’t necessarily American exports, but they’re in English so just go with it.) Galvin Klein. Or Calvin Kline. Dolce & Gabana. Addidas. And, of course, that iconic Nike slogan, “Just Doing It.”

As I see more random shirts, I’ll be sure to share them. And, as always, I’ll ask myself, “How did that get here?”

Cheers.

leibovitzes of lethiopiah

We take a brief pause from the views of LethiopiaH to bring you Ethiopia through a different lens. The lens of a couple of thieves.

Most of you probably remember that a few months back, I had a little incident during which my camera (among other things) was taken from me. I got the camera back and was delighted to find that the fellas who lifted it decided to go all Herb Ritts and snap a few pics. The results are below.

Too bad they got caught; they could’ve used a little more practice.

Cheers.

the tv’s on at the hotel ethiopia

If someone (like, say, me) were to write a story about the last few months of my life, they’d start it with this (because this person is not a very good writer): Welcome to The Hotel Ethiopia. And, yes, you can check out but you can never leave.

At least that’s what it felt like.

There are no clown ties at The Hotel Ethiopia

Since my little incident occurred in December, I had been living in hotels (until recently, when I moved into my new place). Four different hotels to be exact (five if you count the one in Djibouti).  I felt like Hugh Grant in Two Weeks Notice. But not really. If only this were Manhattan.

Life wasn’t all bad at The Hotel Ethiopia. It was two months of hot showers (save 10 days with a malfunctioning water heater at Papyrus), room service if I wanted it, maid and laundry service, and TV.

TV. That meant only one thing, really – soccer. Since each hotel had the same five channels – BBC World, Al Jazeera, MBC2, Super Sport, and blessed ETV – I fell into a routine. I’d catch the latest news on BBC, which plays the same five news stories on repeat it seems, or Al Jazeera. I’d see what awful movie was on MBC2.

Alexandre Dimitri Song Billong of The Arsenal

And then I’d flip to soccer on Super Sport. There were Premier League clashes. I’d watch the same games over and over, didn’t care. There were some African Cup of Nations matches. Bundesliga, which I found a new respect for, was on display pretty frequently. Serie A also, though I’m still not a fan. I also was able to watch the Premier League Review Show, which I used to watch every week in the states. It was bliss.

It’s all about the ads

In addition to all this, I also got to see the same five commercials. Samsung products featuring Didier Drogba. A mobile to mobile money transfer commercial. Bank commercials. Coca-cola. It was interesting to see how products are marketed in a different part of the world.

Samsung touts its refrigerators’ ability to keep things cold even when the power goes out, as Didier, his fake daughter and a jello mold can attest. I can relate to that. Need to transfer money to your grandma in another country? There’s an app for that. People will brave being electrocuted or burned alive to get a Coke to drink during a soccer match. It’s the only way to watch.

I was struck by how, well, unsophisticated the advertising is. I had just finished watching Mad Men, so maybe my standards were higher? Also, I guess I didn’t really watch too many ads back in the states (thanks, DVR!), so I’m not up to date on the level of, um, sophistication in American ads, but these all seemed very simplistic, explicit ways to market the products. Hey, the jello is still cold! Press this button on your phone and send Grandma money! Coke is worth singeing your hair for!

The worst were the bank commercials, which, it seemed to me, were written for 10-year-olds. One such ad touting easy account funds transferring ended with the man’s voice-over saying, “And then I remembered I use (insert bank name) and I smiled” as the man on screened looked at his phone with the (insert bank name) logo and then – you guessed it – smiled. Brilliant, that.

The other one featured a woman at the airport check-in who spent all her money shopping (no way!) and couldn’t pay her fee for extra baggage. Thank god her husband had (insert bank name) and could transfer some money to her. Barf.

Check-out

Anyway, after two months of living it up in The Hotel Ethiopia, I was ready to leave. Now that I’m settled in my house, I don’t miss the room service, the maids, TV, or hot showers. OK, maybe I miss the hot showers a little. But it feels good to be checked out of The Hotel Ethiopia and checked back in to LethiopiaH.

Cheers.

djibouti keeps me busy

Hello, blog audience! It’s been quite some time since my last post, and for that I apologize. I’ve been busy, yes, but that’s no excuse for neglecting you.

So, you may be wondering, “what has she been doing that’s kept her from sharing her life in intimate detail on the world wide web?” I’m happy to answer that. Since I’ve last made contact, I’ve attended our 10-day PC in-service training in Addis and moved into my new house, while squeezing a short trip to Djibouti in between. Good times.

Time to eat

Tadeye blindfolds himself for a trust exercise in a rather silly leadership training session.

First, IST. It was great to see all the G5 Health folks again. My counterpart was with me for the first five or so days of training. Tadeye loves an excuse to come to Addis Ababa, if only for the per diem. He was there to attend a behavior change communication training, which was run by a lovely woman from Zambia named Beene (pronounced Ben-ay). She was delightful. Tadeye kept calling her the fat woman, which wasn’t very nice since he didn’t mean it in the typical Ethiopian “you look good and healthy” way. He meant she was fat.

We also took part in a leadership workshop. It had fewer fat people.

I received some other good and not so good training while I was there, but if I’m being honest, I spent most of the time eating. Or planning what to eat. Or dreaming about what to plan to eat. Lots of good food was consumed in those 10 days.

Second time’s a charm. Wait, what?

Next up, new house. Well, that may be a post for another time. Just know that I’m getting settled in and am (mostly) happy with where I am. I bought a bike so I can get to work without bajajing. I almost passed out the first time I trekked to work on my new machine, but it’s been smoother sailing since then. Once I bling out the bike, I’ll post some before and after pics.

Djibouti looks good…

Last but not least… Djibouti! The Good Doctor and I had been wanting to go to Djibouti, mostly because… it’s called Djibouti. Juvenile I know, but whatevs. It’s right next door and the flight was reasonable, so we thought we might as well go. It was about that time in our service when we needed a little break. Djibouti! Joanna was on board too, so we decided to go after IST.

I love Djibouti. Seriously. It's the perfect size, really hot, and soooo salty.

Honestly, we weren’t really expecting much. It’s a tiny country. We did some research and had a few activities picked out. We were only there for two and a half days so we settled on beach and Lake Assal excursions. The GD’s a couchsurfer (I am now), so we decided to give that a shot. I’ve got to say, I think that made a huge difference. A French couple hosted us the first night (they were fantastic) and introduced us to a friend, Ali, who was headed to the beach the following day. Ali was the most generous, kind, interesting guy. Born in Pakistan, he joined the French Foreign Legion and has lived in Djibouti for almost 30 years. Now he runs a travel agency.

The beach he took us to was something out of a movie. We off-roaded for more than half an hour, wondering when we would get to this alleged beach, and suddenly the beautiful Gulf of Aden spread out before us. Spectacular.

Chillin' in Djibouti.

Day two was even better as we made our way to Lake Assal, the lowest point in Africa and the second saltiest lake on Earth. Breathtaking. We also had lunch on a beach in the Bay of Ghoubet and stopped to check out the Great Rift Valley. When we arrived back in Djibouti city, we took a stroll through the market and made some purchases. All in all, it was a fantastic, albeit short, trip. I hope to go back someday (maybe next year?) and get to the stuff we couldn’t fit in, like swimming with whale sharks and visiting Lake Abbe.

So that’s what’s been going on over here. I’ll post about my new house soon, and I might even put up some photos of all the holiday shenanigans. Stay tuned.

Cheers.

Get in Djibouti!

a quick note on the new year

It’s a new year. Whew. I like the idea of a clean slate.

2012 is big in the Life of Leah. It’s my first full calendar year in Ethiopia (if all goes well). I’ll be turning 31 (yikes). I’ll miss my first full baseball season and a whole year of family members’ and friends’ birthdays. Oh, and all of this stuff. I will miss a presidential election, though I can’t say I’ll be sorry to be spared the accompanying media circus.

Also, it’s widely reported that the world will end.

Hmmm.

I have much to look forward to, though. I’ll be moving into a new house. It’s a fresh start for me, a chance to shed some bad habits acquired in my first few months here (like bajajes). I think I finally know what I’m doing at the University. I might have even found an Amharic tutor. It’s like my service is starting now. 2011 was just a dry run.

Later this month I’ll be attending my group’s In-service Training. Then I’ll be off to Djibouti for some R&R. Other trips are planned to parts of the world I’ve yet to explore.

By the end of the year, I’ll have seen which projects have panned out or will, and which ones never had a chance. I’ll either be pretty good at Amharic or will have given up completely. Same with playing the guitar. Many more books will have been read and even more movies watched. Countless cups of buna will be consumed. Hopefully the food cravings will have disappeared. I don’t harbor any illusions that I’ll lose more weight or that I will start exercising, but maybe I will have started wearing sunscreen.

And honestly, when I think about 2012, there’s no place I’d rather be than Ethiopia, Especially since it’s only 2004 here. Take that, Mayan calendar.

Cheers.

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,800 times in 2011. If it were a cable car, it would take about 47 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

does geldof get it right?

As I write this, I’m listening to “Do They Know It’s Christmas (Feed The World),” the eighties Band Aid classic. It’s Christmas Eve after all.

It’s also fitting because, as I’m sure you all know, this song was written and recorded to raise money to feed the people of Ethiopia during the awful famine of that decade.

Those of you that know me well know that I love this song. It means Christmas to me, just as much as wrapping gifts, watching “A Very Brady Christmas” and creating a holiday ensemble with ribbons and bows as we open presents on Christmas Eve.

So as I sit in Africa – in Ethiopia — I’m listening to the words carefully and reflecting on my presence on this great continent. Maybe those words Bob Geldof wrote (and sung by the likes of Boy George, Bono, Sting, George Michael, and Simon LeBon) all those many years ago say it all. Or do they?

It’s Christmas time, there’s no need to be afraid
At Christmas time, we let in light and we banish shade

And in our world of plenty, we should spread a smile of joy!
Throw your arms around the world at christmas time
But say a prayer – pray for the other ones
At Christmas time, it’s hard but when your having fun
There’s a world outside your window
And it’s a world of dread and fear

Where the only water flowing is a bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom

Well tonight thank God it’s them instead of you
And there won’t be snow in africa this Christmas time
The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life

Where nothing ever grows
No rain or rivers flow

Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?

Here’s to you raise a glass for everyone
Here’s to them underneath the burning sun
Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?

Feed the world
Feed the world
Feed the world
Let them know it’s Christmas time and
Feed the world
Let them know it’s Christmas time
Feed the world
Let them know it’s Christmas time

 So, maybe they don’t say it all. I mean, things do grow here. Lots of things. And the Blue Nile River starts just down the road from here. I know, I’ve seen it. Also, I’m sure there’s snow in Africa somewhere. Like in the mountains. Sure, it’s 85 degrees in Bahir Dar and I’ll be tanning by the pool a little later today, but still. There’s snow somewhere.

Photographic evidence that rivers do indeed flow in Africa.

A world of dread and fear? Bitter sting of tears? Clanging chimes of doom? Wow, that’s depressing. But I guess when you’re trying to raise money you have to paint a bleak picture. And I’m sure things were bleak for those starving and suffering.

The greatest gift we all get this year is life, no? That’s not just specific to Africans or Ethiopians. I can also attest to the fact that they know it’s Christmas time as evidenced by the fact that yesterday multiple people asked me if the packages I had just picked up from the post office were Christmas gifts (thanks, Heather, Adam, and Lalko!).

The song does get some things right, though. It’s Christmas time and there’s no need to be afraid. And we should let in light and banish shade. I like that. Optimism is good.

So as I experience my first Christmas in Africa I think I’ll embrace the lyrics closest to my heart:

And in our world of plenty, we should spread a smile of joy! Throw your arms around the world at Christmas time!

Happy Christmas and Merry New Year! (Did I get that right, Bono?)

Stay tuned for next Christmas’ post featuring John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s “Happy Christmas (War is Over)”