On the River

One of the villages our distributions have taken us to is inaccessible by land, so to reach it we load up our items and plenty of fuel into our new boat and set off down the Baro River. It takes a little over three hours to get there, but it is a welcome break from the hot weather to have the wind blowing and water splashing in our faces. The river bank is dotted with villages along the way, with lots of children and adults alike playing in the water waving at us.

When we arrived at our destination the people were dancing and clapping, rushing up to the riverbank out of their homes to welcome the new strangers. After conducting a training session, discussions with the village leaders, and unloading our supply, we were back on the river to try to make it back to a larger town to sleep. Unfortunately we were pounded by a rainstorm on our way, and as the sun set our path was lit only by the occasional lightning filling the sky.

Somehow by flashlight and the wisdom of our co-workers, we arrived at Itang, the neighbor woreda of Gambella. Wondering how we were going to set up our tents and find some dry ground in the middle of a storm in a flooded area, we found refuge at the local Catholic mission. Karen and I were greeted by a Colombian priest living there, and were not only given beds equipped with mosquito nets to pass the night but hot cups of milk tea, salad, potatoes, bread, and most importantly: cheese – something we didn’t know existed in this region of the country that so severely lacks refrigeration. The next morning we left to return back home, with a new friend, more breakfast, and our unused tents.

Little did I know, the adventures of my week had only just begun. Monday would bring run-ins with the authorities as well as our landcruiser hitting a deer on purpose so that my co-worker’s wife could cook it for dinner. Although I wasn’t too keen on having a dead deer in the back of our car dripping blood on my (laminated) teaching materials, and tried to tell the Ethiopians that hitting animals with cars is not the most humane way to kill them, I was comforted by how happy the deer made them.

Happy New Year!

According to the Gregorian calendar, today is September 11, 2008 – but in Ethiopia, we are actually about 7 years behind. The “13 months of sunshine” slogan that frequents tourism posters comes from the alternate time system that exists only in this country, with 12 months of 30 days each and a 13th month of 5 days at the end. Last year they celebrated the New Millenium, so the festivities were likewise widespread yesterday for New Years Eve 2001. Although most people head to Addis Ababa to spend time with family for the day off, we were still confined to Gambella. As the only 2 white people in town, however, Karen and I were designated VIP status for the celebration in the street yesterday evening, with front row seats for dancing, theatrics, speeches, and local government officials setting off fireworks. I have also so far avoided eating any recently slaughtered meat for today, although my community mobilizers are currently enjoying the large sheep we bought at our distribution site yesterday and brought back tied to the top of the car.

Here in Gambella town we only have electricity about half the time, which makes for a 50% chance that I will get a lot of sleep at night depending on whether the bar nextdoor has power to blast music. In addition to the bar we have the pleasant office location of being on the same street as what we call the “chat market,” chat being the local drug of choice that as far as I know is similar to chewing marijuana. I have also recently been kept awake by the rat living in my ceiling, which I can see running by the large hole above my bed. Thus, my New Years day off today will consist of enlisting the guard’s help in buying drugs to implant into the ceiling to kill my rat. Wishing you a happy and healthy 2001!

Gambella

The Gambella region of Ethiopia, in the Southwest corner near the border of Sudan, is another world from the rest of the country. It’s hot, full of mosquitoes and flies, humid, and inhabited by people who more closely resemble the Sudanese than Ethiopians: many far over 6 feet tall. Every year at the end of rainy season the region is plagued by chronic flooding. Armed with plastic boots up to my knees, we learned to navigate the Lare woreda for the training of community health workers and village chiefs in the PUR water purification system, basic health, and hygiene. PUR is a substance manufactured by Procter & Gamble that can turn 10 Liters of dirty water into clear, drinkable water. I should know, because I drank some myself after treating a bucket filled with water from the abnormally large puddle on the street outside our office.

The trainings are being conducted in conjunction with a massive distribution to respond to this year’s floods, and includes the NFIs (non-food items) of blankets, soap, and plastic sheeting along with the 2 buckets and filter cloth needed to use the packets of PUR. Finding clean water, especially clean enough to drink, is a huge problem when people are displaced from their homes during a flood. The river that has been created on either side of the elevated road is frequently used as a bath at all hours of the day. After falling off once today crossing the muddy logs used as a temporary bridge, I decided to be thankful I had boots rather than bare feet like the majority of people there. Although distributions are always chaotic and full of unexpected obstacles along the way, having to return to the distribution site almost 2 hours away multiple days in a row has allowed ample time for me to make friends with locals who spend their days hanging around our land cruiser and trying to communicate with me in Amharic while they teach me their local language: Nuer. Mostly I tend to make friends with people under 10 years old.

The Nuer people are an ethnic group that live side by side the Anuak people in both the Gambella region and Sudan. The Nuer are cattle raisers and their males are typically identified by 4 lines across their foreheads that are scars made in the teenage years. When a Nuer male wants to get married, he usually has to pay around 35 cows to the bride-to-be’s family (this would be equivalent to about $10,000). Sometimes Nuer marry Anuak women, the cheaper option, as they do not have as many cattle and only have to pay about $400 in dowry. I am also told, however, that if they don’t come up with the cash the groom will be beaten by the bride’s family until he faints. Or goes to the hospital. Probably better to have the money secured beforehand.