525,600 Minutes in Ethiopia

Moving!

2008-02-05T07:37:00.000-08:00

Check out my new blog, Unpacking Development.

Thanks for reading 525,600 Minutes in Ethiopia!

Humanitarian Crisis and Citizen Journalism

2008-01-21T18:04:00.000-08:00

Today, as I got distracted from my Africa into the 21st Century paper, I found a really interesting article on staff of aid agencies acting as citizen journalists when they are on the front lines of a humanitarian crisis. No time to write more about it, but check it out because it's pretty cool.

This Week in Development, Toronto

2008-01-08T20:42:00.001-08:00

Just a quick note to mention some development events around TO this week and next:

Speaker
Thursday, January 10, 12-1:30pm
Twenty Years, Twenty Stories by the Toronto People with AIDS Foundation.

Movie
Opening Saturday, January 12
Persepolis, the movie. Based on the graphic novel about a girl's experience of the Iranian Revolution.

Art Exhibit
Opening Monday, January 14
Shapeshifters, Timetravellers and Storytellers, an Aboriginal art show at the ROM, which comments on colonial representation.

The Ravaging of Africa

2008-01-06T13:40:00.000-08:00

Sorry for my holiday absence! I should have warned you of it ahead of time. The semester starts tomorrow, and it promises to be a full one- the last one, in fact, if all goes according to plan. My focus this semester is on finishing my thesis (on the impact of economic empowerment projects on HIV incidence), and also an independent study course on recent Ethiopian history/politics and Orthodox Christianity. It's likely that I'll be posting about both those subjects here!

First up, in my quest to experience development in 2008, I'm planning to attend Canada in the World. It's put on by the UofT International Relations Society, and focuses on three areas: arctic sovereignty, climate change and human security. I'm pretty excited, as I should get a better idea of my country's role in the issues in which I'm interested! Designed for undergraduate students, I'm not sure if it's open to the public, but I will try to report back on what I've learned.

For the time being, check out the radio documentary here, called The Ravaging of Africa. It's about the 'destructive impact of US imperialism on Africa.' I haven't listened yet myself (and don't know if I agree or not), but it's on my to do list!

Merry World AIDS Day!

2007-12-03T13:51:00.001-08:00

I wore my AIDS ribbon to work on Saturday. It's red, and beaded, with the colours of the Kenyan flag (green, black, white and red) at the bottom, and was given to me by a new friend active on Campus and in East Africa.

As I pinned it to my top in the morning, I wondered how many people would acknowledge it and get into some discussion surrounding World AIDS Day. As a waitress, I wondered how bringing peoples' attention to something unpleasant- like incurable disease- would affect my tips.

I was unprepared, however, for the response I did get: people kept mistaking my pin for a Christmas decoration! More than once, I received exclamations of, "Wow, you look so festive!"

Sorry. I'm not so much 'festive' as trying to be globally conscious.

I visited some of the activities at U of T as part of the Day, and I must admit I was disappointed. I felt that there could be more NGOs represented, more links between student groups and groups from the wider community, more coordination of events on campus. I was frustrated that I didn't feel it was enough (granted I didn't make it to the main event at Hart House because I was busy serving pancakes on Queen Street).

My amazement that people would mistake my ribbon for a nod to Xmas, and my feeling that the university community should do so much more made me realize how just because I see this issue as a 'big deal' doesn't mean that everyone does. Sometimes you can get lost in a bubble of activists and activism and totally forget that you are virtually invisible to the outside world.

All You Need to Know About AIDS in Africa

2007-11-17T11:24:00.000-08:00

Stephen Lewis, the former UN Special Envoy for AIDS in Africa, called Stephanie Nolen's 28 Stories of AIDS in Africa, "the best book ever written about AIDS". I must admit that I was skeptical- how could a relatively short book of stories encapsulate this massive epidemic? By the time I'd finished the third of 28 stories, I'd changed my mind.

Nolen successfully uses 28 human experiences of HIV/AIDS, gathered over years of reporting on the issue, to tackle each aspect of the pandemic: orphans, access to treatment, medical research, AIDS in conflict zones and within the military, at-risk groups such as truck drivers and sex workers, African political and international humanitarian approaches to HIV, experiences of children, women, elites, couples, families, activists, and the poorest of the poor. Her approach left me more knowledgable, and intermittently heartbroken and ready for action. The book critically examines the role of each actor in the pandemic, from international to local in the present and since the first recorded infection. It emphasizes the complexity of the crisis, most importantly its intrinsic links to poverty, as well as including a vital section on how you can help.

Effectively, Nolen has written a book that provides an overview of the political, historical, cultural, and economic realities of HIV/AIDS in Africa while constantly drawing the reader back to one fundemental point: HIV/AIDS is first and foremost a human issue. She quotes Nelson Mandela (he is the main character in the 27th story), "Overcoming poverty is not a gesture of charity; it is an act of justice" (353).

Buy itfor everyone on your Christmas list.

Internationalism's last chance?

2007-11-12T13:35:00.000-08:00

Doug Saunders of the Globe and Mail has just written an interesting piece about Bernard Kouchner (the father of humanitairan action) in the role of France's foreign minister. Check it out here.

Living in Defiance of Despair: Hope in the Balance

2007-11-07T17:07:00.000-08:00

This weekend, as six of Random House’s authors deeply embedded within humanitarian issues in Africa spoke during what was an epic (9 hour) seminar on the subject, each participant struggled to define the word ‘hope’ in a humanitarian context. Marilyn McHarg (MSF), James Orbinski (Nobel prize winner for MSF, currently Dignitas International), Stephanie Nolen (Globe and Mail’s Africa correspondant), Romeo Dallaire (Led peacekeeping mission to Rwanda in 1994), Chimamanda Adichie (Orange broadband prize winning novelist), and Stephen Lewis (former UN Envoy for Aids in Africa), or as I like to refer to them, the Canadian ‘development glitterati,’ each found a different definition. The result was a variety of voices, each with often contradictory visions of “humanitarianism in the 21st century.”

Of course I can’t attempt to cover each point covered in the extraordinarily long session at the University of Toronto’s Convocation Hall, but I’ll try to touch on some of the highlights.

Marilyn McHarg saw humanitarian action as “creating space for hope,” and in the same vain, James Orbinski suggested, “Hope is about possibility”. It was interesting to see the way in which they differed, however, given that Orbinski is a former director of the organization McHarg now represents. While McHarg toed the company line and focused on the apolitical nature of humanitarianism in general, Orbinski emphasized how we may like to look at humanitarianism as simply addressing human suffering, but “human suffering does not take place in a political vacuum”. He went on to discuss the ways in which MSF and other organizations acted politically in order to address issues of human suffering, including increasing access to anti-retroviral drugs in Africa. One of the key topics that Orbinski seems to focus on in his writing and speaking which I find particularly interesting is the detrimental impact of military-delivered humanitarian action. This led to some respectful but adamant opposition from Romeo Dallaire, who during his hour emphasized that the only way to confront the new forms of conflict was through coordination of military, political and humanitarian aspects. Adichie didn’t weigh in on this particular debate, but although she claimed to be “only a story teller,” she articulated strong sentiments on how change and hope must come from within Africa itself.

My favourite speaker, however, was Stephanie Nolen for her frank and passionate discussion of her experience as a journalist covering HIV/AIDS in Africa. Far from the polished and formal presentations of the others, Nolen FELT her way through her 20 minute talk, and then intermittently teared-up and cussed while being interviewed by moderator Gillian Findlay. Her message to us? “We do more than we did, but that’s not enough…The Gap makes a t-shirt about AIDS. You can’t say you don’t know there’s a problem. Real foreign aid starts here.”
___________________________________________
To read:

Stephanie Nolen:28: Stories of AIDS in Africa

James Orbinski: An Imperfect Offering: Humanitarian Action for the 21st Century

Stephen Lewis: Race Against Time: Searching for Hope in AIDS-Ravaged Africa (CBC Massey Lecture)

Romeo Dallaire: Shake Hands with the Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda

Chimamanda Adichie: Half of a Yellow Sun

AIDS Blame Game

2007-10-31T12:09:00.000-07:00

The Globe and Mail published a story about the findings of one US academic today: according to researcher Michael Worobey, it is possible to trace the initial cases of HIV in the United States to Haitian immigrants, rather than a US sex tourist returned from a vacation on the island. This article, and the research in general, is a punch in the face for those working to reduce the racial stereotyping that comes along with the pandemic.

During the initial stages of the pandemic in the 1980s and 1990s, Haitians suffered stigma and stereotypes, even to the point of being blamed for ‘causing’ the disease’s appearance in America. Needless to say, attributing such a devastating illness to one ethnic group (or one sexuality) leads to racism, as well as a variety of other ‘isms’, and it’s taken significant efforts to mitigate the damage done by this Haiti-Aids association. In his book, Aids and Accusation: Haiti and the Geography of Blame, Paul Farmer tackles this issue and anthropological perspectives of health head on.

By publishing this study, the Globe and Mail risks bringing those out-of-date stereotypes back to life, and for what purpose? It seems to me that the US’s desire to firmly release themselves of blame (it wasn’t one of their citizens that brought the virus to America after all) is counter productive to attempts to ensure that every individual makes efforts to protect him or herself, regardless of their (or their sexual partner’s) origin. While this type of research may be important for disease epidemiology, it also works to “distance” those who feel they don’t fit into the victim profile—formerly, Haitian or homosexual, currently, African.

I’d rather see the opposite, a ‘proximity’: understanding the role that we all have in relation to HIV/AIDS- protecting ourselves, and helping to remove barriers to prevention and treatment for others.
______________________________________________
Upcoming Development Events:
Saturday, Nov. 3: Hope in the Balance
Nov 4-17: UN Exhibit "Lessons from Rwanda" (UofT Multifaith Centre)

World Press 2007

2007-10-24T13:40:00.000-07:00

I'm never quite prepared for the intensity of the World Press Photo Exhibit. I'm always very excited to go, and then get stopped in my excitement tracks when I get there. I start having to breathe slower, prepare myself for what's around the corner. Zahra made the comment yesterday as we stepped from image to image, that what is hard to process is that there had to be someone there to take the photo. There had to be someone watching the man getting shot, the baby being burried, the gas main breaking, the boy waiting for interrogation by US troops in Iraq. It's hard to imagine being there.

Some of the ones that stuck with me include:

A ruined town in Kashmir, with rows and rows of men praying towards Mecca in the rubble of their mosque (Espen Rasmussen)

The juxtaposition of a group of African migrants arriving on the shores of the Canary Islands, and the bikini-clad toursits they enountered (Arturo Rodriguez)

Contestants in the Ms. Senior Sweetheart beauty pagent (Magnus Wennman)

The Best of the Press

2007-10-22T20:24:00.000-07:00

Heading to the World Press Photo Exhibit tomorrow. I always look forward to this event as it passes through Toronto each year. It mixes global events with art in a way that's stunning, and equal parts heart-wrenching and humorous. I highly recommend checking it out in person, but if it isn't coming through your town/city, you can have a look at the gallery here.

In other development news, I attended the Branding AIDS Conference last week. Interested as I am innovative engagement, I was curious to hear academic and practical perspectives on what Bono terms "off the rack enlightenment". Keynote speaker Lisa Ann Richey provided an interesting critique of comodifying AIDS with a specific focus on (Product) RED and the Africa Issue of Vanity Fair that I talked about in a previous post. Her research is a work in progress but focuses on how "heroic shopping"...

- Could undermine hard won gains towards corporate social responsibility by focusing not on people, planet and profit, but just profit.

- Lacks the transparency and accountability of traditional aid agencies.

- Oversimplifies the issue of AIDS into slogans: "all it takes is two pills per day" (without recognizing how difficult it really is to live on ARVs in Africa).

- Doesn't recognize the (unequal) relationship between producers and consumers, but rather sees AIDS as an anomaly in a system that usually works fine.

I'm eager to see Richey's critique develop. For now, you can see her working paper here.

As the conference continued, I felt that it deteriorated into a more general debate about issues surrounding HIV/AIDS, one totally beyond the scope of a half day conference. At one point I got up and (very nervously) asked about whether the panel saw the possibility for using "compassionate consumption" as an initial "hook" leading to mainstream awareness, and how they felt an individual's interest in wearing a (RED)tshirt or carrying a (RED)iPod could be translated into more engaged action. The only reply was that everyone should start reading Lenin...not something I felt had very practical application in the current response to the AIDS pandemic.

In general, though, it was a really interesting session. As usual, I'm excited to be a participant in development understanding as it happens.

Next up in the Fall Lineup of Development Events, Hope in the Balance, a day with Canada's development glitterati.

Ideas Worth Spreading

2007-10-04T20:58:00.000-07:00

Back from Africa and in the world of mega bandwidth, I've lately been indulging in the internet's video offerings, mostly on YouTube and TV Links. Now that I've exhausted the most recent season of Grey's Anatomy, I was lucky enough to stumble upon TEDTalks thanks to referrals from friends and fellow development bloggers. As far as I understand it, Technology, Entertainment and Design (TED) is a series of conferences with the world's experts, during which the participants give 20 minute presentations on innovative research, initiatives and perspectives about the world around them. Recently, they've decided to post the TEDTalks online for public access, including the most recent set focused on Africa: The Next Chapter. I have only watched a couple so far, but am impressed by the diversity of their content, and the exciting new ideas they present. Certainly a 20 minutes better spent than with the melodramatic characters that fill the fictional Seattle Grace Hospital!

Hope in the Balance

2007-09-24T12:09:00.000-07:00

It seems like development is all around. Maybe I've just got development coloured glasses on, but it is as if we're getting more and more into this notion of humanitarianism; in every magazine or newspaper, there seems to be at least one mention of international charity. For me, this is a good and a bad thing. On one side, the developing world becomes synonymous with humanitarian crisis, because all we hear from places like Africa is bad news. In an interesting speech by Andrew Mwenda, posted on Development Crossing, he says "Africa has 53 countries. Of these, only 6 of them currently have civil war. The media therefore only report on 6 countries." On the other hand, though, while Africa iteslf isn't a humanitarian crisis, it does face huge challenges related to poverty, health, and governance. So even if the development issues are disproportionately represented in the media, it's not for us in the West to lose our focus.

Of the 6 countries currently embroiled in civil war, the one we pay most attention to is Darfur. Last week I was able to attend the Darfur:Darfur exhibit at the ROM, the effort of someone outside the bubble of development, but certainly a humanitarian. The aim was to bring awareness to the tragedy currently taking place in Sudan, while at the same time presenting images and music of culture and daily life in the country. The general message? Africa is a continent home to both humanitarian crisis and real life. And we can't forget the second aspect, letting our tendency to think of Africa as a project take over.

For me this was one of the biggest realizations I had in Ethiopia. I'd expected cultural isolation, lonliness and a drastic drop in my standard of living. I was surprised (but entirely happy) to find the contrary, and I settled into a 'real life' for my ten months there. I witnessed poverty and hardship, but that was only a small portion of my overall experience of the country. I'm excited to look at this in more depth in my Africa in the 21st Century course this semester, as we attempt to 'think about Africa as a living place rather than merely as a site for intellectual [and humanitarian] speculation and study.'

Toronto in the World: Upcoming Events
The Branding AIDS Conference
Hope in the Balance

Special Issue: Africa

2007-09-12T12:36:00.000-07:00

Old news is sometimes good news! As I sat in Timothy’s coffee today, adjusting to student life once again, I picked up the July 2007 Vanity Fair. The words Special Issue: Africa were blazoned across the cover, against the background of the smiling faces of Bill and Melinda Gates, and Warrant Buffet. Apparently, the magazine put out 20 different covers that month, all featuring different actors in the current era of philanthropy and activism on behalf of Africa. Not just limited to the cover, “Africa” (in the humanitarian sense) was featured throughout the magazine in articles, photographs and even advertisements (ie, the Red Campaign available at the Gap).

My interest in how we’re getting the message about issues of poverty, HIV/AIDS, and debt in Africa out in North America and Europe is keen; I’m always on the look out for new and innovative ways that individuals, NGOs and companies engaging in the continent. Two months ago, Vanity Fair succeeded in just that. By having Bono (Africa’s self appointed spokesperson) guest edit, the one time fashion magazine was fully co-opted by the movement for change in Africa (or at least one branch of it). The result? A huge group of readers (regular and not), that probably aren’t quite as engaged in the issues as, say, subscribers of the African Economist, were given a pile of information on issues far outside their usual attention.

Although in the development world we constantly question the quality of the interventions performed by these mainstream/celebrity activists, I feel like the initial pull of fame endorsing an issue is important. Get people interested, and only then turn them into critics. The sheer number of people that tune in to big name humanitarian assistance makes them incredible useful, as far as I’m concerned. Even if you don’t believe in Madonna approach to development, its difficult to disagree that it’s better to have her on board than not.

Media moments like this one just passed- the Vanity Fair Africa Special Issue- give me confidence that Africa’s issues are becoming more important to us, here in the West. They are finding their way onto our agenda through interesting and innovative venues. It gives me butterflies in my stomach.

Check out: the Darfar: Darfur exhibit at the ROM in Toronto- From Dusk to 11pm every day between September 8 and 17. Or visit www.darfurdarfur.org.

Memories Fading Fast

2007-08-30T11:22:00.000-07:00

I'm upset at how fast and easily I've reintegrated into North America. It might sound peculiar, but I feel that in some way it belittles my time spent in Ethiopia. I hate how my memories are fixed, in complete opposition to the dynamism that I experienced while living there. It's almost as if, except for the photos and friends made, that I've never even set foot in Addis. I feel like it's too soon that my Habesha memories have been transferred from present tense into past tense.

To top it all off, I'm experiencing devastating writers block...I planned to come back and write write write about Ethiopia and it's wonders and our missconceptions from this side of the Atlantic. No such luck. It would seem that the words only come in situ.

The only solution is to go back!

Without Wat

2007-08-10T23:18:00.000-07:00

A month back from Ethiopia and I'm having all the normal reactions. I feel as if my ten month internship was a dream, leaving me questioning whether it really happened at all. I've only just started getting used to walking by a line of cars and not having conversations with people about my skin colour through the windows. But perhaps the most difficult thing of all was going for Ethiopian food for the first time since being outside of the country.

Before I left for my placement, I ate Ethiopian once every couple of months, quite rarely given how often I ate the other ethnic staples- Japanese, Thai, Somali, Italian, Chinese, Middle Eastern, Mediterranean, Indian. A plate of wat and injera was a special treat. In fact, two years ago, my boyfriend and I went for Ethiopian food on our first date. When I asked CPAR's Ethiopian country director how the Canadian version of his cultural eats compared with the real thing on one of his visits to the CPAR-Toronto office, he just smiled and laughed politely.

I spent my first couple of weeks in the CPAR-Ethiopia canteen with tears in my eyes as my new coworkers piled heaps of too spicy wat, berbere and mitmita on my plate. After my first trip to the field, the idea of another bite of injera (which I'd just eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner for four days straight) was enough to make my stomach turn. I came well prepared for the second trip with Mars bars, which I privately ate for breakfast.

But somewhere in the middle of my Christmas vacation, I began craving the food of which I'd been so tired. I happily stepped into the first hotel I saw when I arrived home to Addis and dug into a huge plate of tibs and shiro.

As I prepared to leave Ethiopia in June, the messages of those who'd left before me were pretty consistant: eat as much injera as you can before you leave...it's just not the same.

Last week, I went for Ethiopian food in North America for the first time in a year. Excited to show my friends what I'd feasted on, I enthusiastically ordered kitfo (raw beef), gomen (kale) and ayeb (cottage cheese), my three favourite dishes. After a month of withdrawal, I could practically taste the huge dish covered with injera with portions of red, white and green before it arrived. I confidently ripped a piece of injera off...and it crumbled in my hand. The tangy and supple staple of my memories doesn't exist here.

The absence experienced by my tastebuds is similar to that experienced by my heart.

2007-07-27T09:37:00.000-07:00

Click here for a reflection piece I wrote on the CPAR website.

Tips for Reintegration

2007-07-09T15:20:00.000-07:00

They say that returning home after spending time in a different country can be harder than adjusting to life away in the first place. My culture shock comes in waves, alternating between experiencing pleasant surprises of ‘home’ and marveling at its deficiencies. Most significantly, I find myself asking, ‘is this it?’ as I participate in conversations and activities that don’t seem quite as vital as those I experienced in Ethiopia. One week in, here’s a list of tips for others in the same situation:

1. Don’t go home.
After a day in Toronto, I continued on to Boston where I’ll spend the last two months of the summer. Being in a new place provides excellent distraction from not being in Addis any longer, a distraction that wouldn’t be possible in a familiar city.

2. Join Facebook.
Adding the friends that you made overseas helps ease the transition away from roommates, coworkers and buddies, and into new interactions. I feel less lonely for my friends in Addis because I can keep track of their lives and converse with them on a daily basis. It makes them seem not quite so far away.

3. Stay involved.
If you were working for a company or ngo overseas, organize some tasks for yourself to do upon returning home. CPAR has asked me to do some writing for its newsletters, and I have some follow up to do with CAPAIDS. These tasks also provide a link with the life I lived in Ethiopia, and help mitigate the feelings of uselessness that comes from leaving a job I loved.

4. Link with other recent returnees.
On my first night back, I went to a bbq with some friends who I’d met in Addis. I’m afraid I might have overused their sympathetic ears, but being able to talk to someone who related was great. One of my friends hadn’t left the house since arriving back three weeks ago!

5. Channel your feelings of withdrawal.
Work on something related to your experience helps to minimize the feeling that the whole thing was a dream. Some suggestions: write an article about the country you visited for an online publication, organize a small fundraiser for an organization you became familiar with overseas, do a presentation for the organization you were overseas with…

Home?

2007-07-04T21:52:00.000-07:00

My first question when I got off the plane in Toronto was, “What am I doing here?” I have repeated the question over and over again in the four days I’ve been on North American soil. People keep saying things about “home” and “safe” in their conversations with me now that I’m back, but I find that those words don’t really apply. The friends I made in Addis gave me a terrific send off, with a party on Friday night, a breakfast in my honour on Saturday morning, and finally hugs at the airport on Saturday evening. As I looked at them, I saw “home” in their faces and my surroundings: my Kazanchis neighbourhood with its busy sidewalks and characters, the blue and white taxis that populate Addis, and the ubiquitous white cloth that covers its (female) resident's heads. The city is more home to me than Toronto ever has been.

The two things that have struck me most in North America since my return have been food and safety. To generalize the first, everyone is always eating here. In the airport, everyone passed the time before their flights by snacking. I bet most of them weren’t even hungry. The evening I arrived, I attended a Canada Day BBQ, which consisted primarily of 6 hours of non-stop eating. I could barely walk out the door, because I kept eating long after I had my fill. And the things that are being consumed here are so much larger than I remembered- tomatoes the size of baseballs, meal portions bigger than my head, and jerry cans full of sugary beverages.

And safety. What is this assumption that Africa is unsafe? Sure, it has more disease and probably more car accidents than in Canada, but it’s not those things we focus on. I was struck by the constant direction given by parents (not my own), signs and PA systems instructing me on how to be ‘safe’. Like in the airport, a voice without a face told me regularly to, “Please stay to the right of the moving sidewalk so that others can pass safely on the left.” Signs in the Boston subway emphasized a safe and happy Fourth of July. People seem to be glad that I’m home safe, but I must admit that I never felt particularly unsafe in Ethiopia.

So, here I am in North America once again. They’re right when they say Africa gets under your skin. But I’m trying to count my blessings, including McDonalds cheeseburgers, speedy internet, and loved ones.

Up for Grabs

2007-06-19T04:24:00.000-07:00

There’s nothing like a bit of harassment to make you realize that you’re not in Canada anymore. Today, while taking friends of my roommate on a tour of Merkato, Addis’ main market, I gave specific attention to keeping my purse close and out of the hands of thieves. Turns out, I should have also been taking care of more personal assets to keep them out of the hands of passers by. As we strolled happily, though slightly out of place, down the busy streets of the market, a boy in the oncoming traffic managed in a split second to grab my breast without breaking stride and continue down the quasi sidewalk with his giggling friends. Held back by my limited Amharic, I managed to get out a very stern “what is it?”, rather than a sentence containing significantly more expletives, and probably something about how it is unacceptable to fondle someone without an invite. In reality, the episode ended right there, but later I got to thinking about how my reaction exemplified my identity, gender issues, and the overall circumstances of security and rule of law here in Ethiopia.

In general, I tend to identify less with being a woman than a human being, but in this case I certainly felt it was a gendered incident. Also, the incident proved how, despite how at home I feel here, I will always be an outsider, limited by my language abilities and the stereotypes of foreigners. If I’d confronted the grabber, those around me would likely have thought, “oh, just another farenji getting angry.” I think we have this reputation from our overly aggressive approach to getting local prices, as well as our intolerance of lateness, less than perfect craftsmanship and being perpetually treated like we’ve just arrived in Ethiopia. Finally, if I’d approached the police about it, it’s possible that I would have been laughed at to my face (if the police hadn’t used it as an excuse to ‘round up all the youth in Merkato and take them away).

The identities made vivid by this encounter- being a woman and a foreigner- made me think of how the situation would have been different if it had happened in Canada. First, those around me would have been on my side. Second, I would have had the language ability to confront the grabber. And third, I would have the satisfaction of filing a police report (though likely nothing would come of it in the future.) Here, I felt there was absolutely nothing that I could do about the problem. Even discussing it later didn’t help, as those that I told completely denied the sexual aspect of it and focused instead on the incident as an unsuccessful attempt to steal my purse. This is the daily reality of most women here: a complete lack of options to act on sexual, psychological and physical gender based harassment that occurs.

Certainly, my up for grabs experience by no means represents my overall Ethiopian experience; except for this incident, I’ve found Habeshas nothing but respectful. And an isolated grab is nothing in the face of continued human rights violations in this country.

Socially Conscious Web 2.0

2007-05-30T02:13:00.000-07:00

Over the past months here in Ethiopia, I’ve managed to fall deeper into Web 2.0. For those of you not as enamored as I am, Web 2.0 is the latest generation of internet applications that feature user-driven content (like wikipedia, youtube, flickr, myspace…). My first foray into Web 2.0 is what you’re looking at right now: my blog. Since its inception, I’ve managed to join various online networking, photo and social book marking sites as well. And as someone who’s interested in getting Canadians and others involved in international development issues, I tend to look for the social consciousness in Web 2.0. I’ve been delighted to find several ways in which the internet is promoting the causes I feel passionate about.

For starters, I’m part of two online networking sites that are engaged in promoting community activism and global awareness: www.takingitglobal.com and www.idealist.org. These two sites allow you to link with others working for positive change, share your experience, and even find jobs within the field. TakingITGlobal focuses on getting youth around the world to increase their involvement through contributing to newsletters, developing artists’ pages, and joining organizations working on development issues online. I post my blog there as well, and have taken an online course on fundraising that they provided. Idealist.org has two neat components, the first mobilizing its members to increase dialogue on community and global issues through holding forums in their area, and the second allowing its members to build volunteer and speaker profiles to become more active in their causes. Both have allowed me to connect with other individuals who are interested in the same issues that I am.

As well, both the organizations I work for have online fundraising strategies that make use of Web 2.0 applications. For example, CAPAIDS annual Bike A Thon, which raises money to buy bikes for frontline Aids workers in Africa, is facilitated through an individualized donation system. Using a template, I can personalize my own donation page, including photos and my fundraising goals, and then send the link to friends and family. They can then donate online with their credit card, which means that instead of going door to door like I used to in high school, I can reach friends overseas or family back in Victoria.

Today I came across one of my most exciting discoveries so far, on the ubiquitous social networking site, Facebook. Usually reserved for connecting with friends you didn’t even know you knew and posting photos of last night’s debaucheries, Facebook has recently made an application available where you can feature a “cause” on your profile page and invite your friends to support the cause, and make donations if they choose. I looked at some of the most popular, and even though the Causes application has only been available for a few days, there have already been significant contributions. This from a demographic that purportedly thinks more about beer than poverty. CPAR hasn’t joined yet, as all the organizations available so far are based in the US, but I’m excited to feature the organization on my profile when they are listed, and encourage my friends to forget their student loan payments for a moment and support my Cause.

Hopefully this will encourage those of you who are holding out against Web 2.0 to dive right in!

If you do, here’s where to find me:

Site Username Description
www.takingitglobal.com jongbloed linking active youth
www.idealist.org katejongbloed linking active individuals
www.facebook.com Kate Jongbloed the social networking site
www.flickr.com katejongbloed my photos online
www.delicious.com katejongbloed online list of my favourite sites
www.goodreads.com Kate in Ethiopia like Facebook for books
www.ysn.com katejongbloed networking for young professionals

Islam in Ethiopia

2007-05-22T06:10:00.000-07:00

After travelling to Lalibela’s rock hewn churches, visiting monasteries by mule and boat, and speaking frequently about Ethiopian Orthodox saints, I thought it was probably a good idea to check out Ethiopia’s other major religion: Islam. I work with Ahmed, a practicing Muslim, and a former employee at the Ethiopian Islamic Council, so I figured he’d be my in. I’ve spent the past nine months trying to remember not to shake his hand! We arranged an appointment on Friday afternoon, before prayers, so that I could visit the Grand Mosque in the heart of Addis’s biggest market (less than a block away from an equally large Orthodox church). Before I left to meet him, I practiced putting on my hijab with the help of another coworker, Saade. As I walked around my office with it on, my coworkers began to call me Amina!

I was early for our appointment, and for the first time in Addis, I felt thoroughly out of place as I waited in front of the men’s gate at the Mosque. Even the little Amharic I’ve gained didn’t apply: the beggars I encountered all wore prayer caps, and the only way I know to fend them off is by saying, “God will provide.” Except that in this case, I would have been talking about the wrong God. I kept on waiting for someone to say, “You don’t belong here,” but of course they didn’t.

When Ahmed arrived, we met the administrator of the Mosque, and he showed us around the women’s part, which made Ahmed very uncomfortable. As we walked around, he commented on my long skirt, saying that I looked like a true Muslim. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the top part of my dress, hidden by a sweater, would have made him change his mind!

At ten minutes before seven we prepared for prayer. I left Ahmed half way, as he went to the men’s part and I headed back towards the woman’s part. As I walked up the stairs, wondering how this was all going to work, two young women in full chador beckoned me over. Placing me between them in our straight prayer line, three rows back from the front, they signaled to me that I should follow their example when the prayer started. And so, we bent forward, kneeled, put our heads to the floor, stood up, crossed our arms, and held out our index fingers in symbol of Allah. When we were finished, the girls asked me my name. When I replied, “Kate,” they said, “No, your Islamic name.” Amina.

I stayed Amina, under my headscarf, all the way home.

Northern Ethiopia

2007-05-18T04:02:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday I found myself in a sunny restaurant, having a delightful breakfast of marmalade, toast and boiled eggs with my mother. What made it less delightful was that we were supposed to be on the plane for our four-day trip to Bahir Dar and Lalibela in Northern Ethiopia. We’d arrived at the airport at 5:30am to find that our e-tickets didn’t appear on the computer, but after much haggling and talking to several people, we had boarding tickets in our hands and were rushing towards our gate. Once safely in the plane, a man from the airline came in and asked if any of us were headed to Bahir Dar. Apparently, they’d decided just then to change the route, and make three other stops before arriving in Bahir Dar. Our arrival time would be four hours later than planned. Luckily, there was another plane, leaving twenty minutes later, for our destination. We tumbled back onto the tarmac and into the waiting area. Then the announcement came that our new flight was delayed. We had a three-hour wait ahead of us, and no duty free shops. Three and a half ours later, we were still waiting; we didn’t end up taking off until about one o’clock (forty minutes later than we would have arrived in Bahir Dar if we’d stuck with the first plane!). However, after a rocky 35-minute flight, we finally arrived in Bahir Dar. Upon hearing our story, a couple of the guys we met in the airport explained Ethiopian Airlines’ local name: Inshallah Airlines (“If God wills it” Airlines).

We spent two days in Bahir Dar, staying with a friend of ours (a fellow Canadian), and visited ancient monasteries on Lake Tana, and the Blue Nile Falls (or what’s left of them after a hydrological project was constructed up stream). As well, we had a chance to visit a local NGO who’s just starting to embark on an HIV/AIDS program- Bahir Dar has the highest prevalence rate in the country at 23 percent. It was a nice change to eat fresh fish from the lake, and to be near water after land locked Addis!

Our next stop was Lalibela, and luckily God must have willed it, because we arrived on time. We had a serendipitous meeting with two Canadians (one my mum’s age and one mine) in the airport bathroom, and ended up spending our two days there with them. With the help from our guide, Abush, we visited the ancient rock-hewn churches in the town, trekked with mules up a mountain to visit another, and drove some distance away to see a monastery built into a giant cave. The latter included bodies of over 5000 pilgrims who’d chosen to be buried there.

Exhausted and filled with Ethiopian mythology and Orthodox culture, we left on Tuesday to return to Addis and the‘real world’. We didn’t make it to Axum or Gonder to complete our historical tour, but I guess that will have to be saved for the next trip to this incredible country!

For me, the trip provided a chance to practice my Amharic, share my small knowledge of Ethiopia with people who were fresh off the boat, and meet some tremendous people. I think it solidified the experience I’ve had here, making me aware of the skills I’ve learnt on placement, and my personal progress.

Tekla Haymanot

2007-05-07T06:29:00.000-07:00

I’ve talked before in this blog about Ethiopian Orthodox Christianity, and I become steadily more interested in it as I realize its pervasiveness in society here. As usual, religion is a crucial part of the history and the present of this country.

There are several saints revered in Orthodox Christianity here, some indigenous, and others that are specifically Ethiopian. I’ve mentioned before how each church is named after one, and each of the days of the month is attributed to a specific saint. One can ask a Christian Ethiopian, “Who is your saint?” and they will answer immediately. When significant events happen here, like the birth of a child or some sort of near-death experience, people pick the saint of that particular day as their saint, and will pay special attention to religious duties on that saint’s day. Often, they’ll light candles, or attend service on that day each month, and will go to the church with that saint’s namesake.

My Ethiopian saint is Tekla Haymanot. A couple of months ago, I was in a car accident with two friends on the way home from Debre Sina where an intern friend was sick with typhoid fever. At a bend in the road, the driver lost control of the car because of problems with the steering and a pothole. We flew down the hill beside the road, narrowly missing trees and rocks, and as we swerved to avoid a farmer’s field and barbed wire fence, the momentum threw me through the closed window. I landed, a bit dazed, on the ground as the car continued for a few meters before stopping. The two friends left in the car looked into the back seat to see if I was okay, and were terrified when they didn’t see me sitting there. As they got out of the car, I stood up, unharmed except for what would become a huge bruise on my thigh and a couple of scratched elbows. No one else was hurt. On our way off the road, we could have hit a tree, crumpling the front of the car, or hit a rock and flipped over, either of which would have caused serious damage to us in the car. But we didn’t.

When we drove back into Addis, I visited with the Ethiopian family living behind our house, and asked them what saint’s day it was that day. We lit a candle for Tekla Haymanot, and he’s been my saint ever since.

The story of Tekla Haymanot says that he showed a special ability in performing miracles during childhood, and went on, later in life, to pray without interval for twenty years. He spent the whole prayer standing, and at one point, his right leg rotted and fell off. He continued for seven more years standing only on his left. You can find the rotten leg in a church in Debre Libanos. It comes out once a year, and those that revere him are permitted to drink the water in which the leg is washed.

Currently reading: The Chains of Heaven by Philip Marsden, the true story of his journey hundreds of kilometers on foot between Lalibela and Axsum, two of Ethiopia’s most holy places. The story of Tekla Haymanot above was taken from the book, and from accounts of Ethiopian friends. The painting of Tekla Haymanot was done by my fabulous artist friend, Geta Mekonnen.

Mum's Arrival

2007-05-07T06:28:00.000-07:00

My Mum is arriving in Addis bright and early tomorrow morning. This will be her first time in Africa, though she did work as a nurse in Iran before the revolution when she had just graduated. I’m excited to show someone around this place that’s been my home for ages. I’m excited that someone from my previous Canada life will understand what I’ve seen and experienced, if only just the surface of it. I’m excited to shock her with Addis’s poverty-riches, traditional-modern dichotomies. And I’m excited that having new eyes around will likely make me see things I haven’t seen before.

We plan to visit the Christian cultural areas in the North of the country. We’ll take a tour. I’ll probably feel uncomfortably like a tourist, a feeling I’ve managed to escape in the past few months. But, the underground churches must be seen!

My Mum plans to volunteer while she’s here- travel with a purpose. She’s linked with an NGO which sends groups and individuals overseas. She will “investigate the prospects of volunteering for health professionals and others interested in health issues”. I’m excited to see what she comes up with! So, we’ll visit the Alert Leprosy Hospital, HAPCSO and Mekdim self-help HIV/AIDS groups, CPAR’s rural projects, the Ethiopian Women with Disabilities National Association, and the Hope Enterprises Soup Kitchen.

My roommate and I are attempting to pull things together so she doesn’t experience the squalor of our house in recent months. In a stand off with our landlord over some items that went missing (cameras, ipods), we have withheld a portion of our rent. Thus, when the hot water heater broke and the propane for the stove ran out, we weren’t really in a position to argue for repairs. For a month or so we found ourselves eating out or at friends’ houses, and bringing our bathing supplies wherever we went in case the opportunity arose for a shower. Anyway, half of the missing items have been returned, we have paid a chunk of the withheld rent, and the crucial fixture in the water tank has been replaced. I’ll go in search of propane tonight, with the help of one of the young boys that lives at the back of our house, Salomon.

Welcome to Addis, Mum!

Reflection after 8 months

2007-04-26T01:17:00.000-07:00

Eight months ago, I could never imagine being at this point: two months to go here in Ethiopia. I like to think that I’ve had a unique experience, unlike anyone else, but I’m afraid that I’ve experienced the generic Intern emotions and revelations. And then some, perhaps.

Usually, when sent overseas, a young intern either falls in love with the world of a development worker in the field, or gets completely disenchanted with the process and outcomes of development. I find myself in the middle of these two perceptions. I still thoroughly believe in development- its positive impact on local communities and its importance in ending poverty. But I see my place in it more clearly than when I left. The most rewarding moments of my placement have been when I collect case studies of CPAR’s beneficiaries, when I write about my observations here on my blog, and when I prepare articles for the CPAR website and newsletters. Perhaps my role in development in the future will be in promotions and communications, rather than in programming and implementation. In my ideal world, I’ll spend the next years of my life working to get more Canadians (and others) interested in the issues I’ve become familiar with here, and helping youth to become more involved in programs like the one I’ve done.

I’m afraid of going back to North America. I feel like as soon as I get off the plane I’ll be faced with someone who will complain about their difficult life (a job they don’t really like, credit card debt, general Western frustrations) and I will react- “You have nothing to complain about, compared to my homeless neighbours, my colleagues with HIV/AIDS, and terrible public transit!”. I feel like I’ll walk into a shopping mall, shiny and orderly, and get overwhelmed by just how much we have in Canada, compared to the people that live in corrugated iron boxes on stilts, that hold all their worldly possessions, just outside my house. It’s not that I’m trying to belittle the issues and stresses in Canada- everything is relative, certainly. It will be a shock, though, to arrive in a country where poverty is not the norm. Where I’ll be able to walk all day without a single person asking for money, or bread. Where no one will say “Hello Foreigner” when I walk down the street. Where I’ll be completely normal again, and not different from anyone else.

And I dread the utterly unanswerable question, “How was Africa?”

Making Money: boys sell fuz ball games on the side of the road for 10birr cents

Woman from the Gumuz ethinic group carrying firewood to sell in the local market

School children stop for a drink at a water point developed by CPAR

The Expatriates

2007-04-17T06:33:00.001-07:00

Some of the more “hardcore” interns and development workers here in Addis make a point of rejecting the Expat community in favour of “making friends with the locals”. Their point is, of course, “if I wanted to spend time with Canadians, I would have just stayed in Canada”.

I, however, am not quite so strict in my associations. I have many friends falling into either category, the expat or the local.

But I want to focus, for a minute, about the expats here in Addis, particularly the ones about my own age. By going through the process of finding and securing an internship or overseas job, these youth seem to have been pre-selected for terrific friends. It is thrilling to be surrounded by a group of people who have traveled all over the world, have a keen interest in international issues, and, most exceptionally, are committed to global change. How often can you say that the majority of people that you know are concerned with environmental, social and political problems rampant throughout the world, and are actually taking steps to address these issues with all their heart?

With that, I raise my glass of tej (Ethiopian honey wine) to all the locals and the expats around the world whose chosen task in life is to improve the status quo. Cheers!

Human Traffic 2: Ethiopia's Baby Trade

2007-04-10T01:30:00.000-07:00

The going rate for a baby in Ethiopia is $10,000USD, through legal channels. I’m not sure what a black market baby will run you. It’s sometimes hard for me to wrap my head around a baby with a price tag.

Pioneered by Angelina, this new wave of international adoption is in your face. Madonna is plastered all over CNN with her problems trying to adopt a Malawian baby. Spoof news magazine The Onion features a story with the headline “Angelina Jolie Coming for Your Baby” and the Jolie-Pitt family is steadily increasing its international brood. Here in Addis Ababa, a new flock of mostly American adopters takes over the Hilton and Sheraton hotels every 6 months, staying a week before exporting their new children back to the West.

Perhaps I sound overly harsh, and as an adoptee myself, I can’t be completely critical of the adoption industry. Certainly, there’s a crisis of orphans here in Africa, with the scourge of Aids leaving thousands of parentless children in terrible conditions with impoverished societies unable to care for them. And the population growth in many of these countries is causing huge developmental problems, such as environmental degradation, food insecurity and dilution of wealth, whereas in the West we need immigration to maintain our population levels. As well, adoption within the West is difficult for families who can’t have children of their own because of massive waiting lists and restrictive bureaucracy.

But it’s important to think about the overall impact of massive adoption from developing countries from a wider perspective. Take, for example, Ethiopia. One of the five poorest nations in the world, Ethiopia faces brain drain of its wealthy and educated, creating hubs of diaspora in places like Washington, D.C. or Edmonton, and undermining the country’s potential for growth. I see mass adoptions to the West in a similar light. By exporting a chunk of the future generation of Ethiopians, we are only addressing the symptoms of the problem and perhaps mining the youth that will carry Ethiopia out of poverty. I also question why the children have to be taken away to the West, when it is entirely possible to successfully sponsor a child (and its community) without taking it away from its society and culture.

I’m not advocating an end to international adoption, because it serves the urgent purpose of providing better lives for children that would otherwise have no opportunity, or worse, would simply rot in orphanages and contribute to the increasing incidence of HIV infection. I’m saying lets look at the long term and try to solve the problems that supply the babies put up for adoption. Lets invest in strategies to eradicate poverty and reduce the prevalence of orphans.

When I look at what $10,000 can do when put to good use here, I am amazed. CPAR would build a rainwater harvesting tank for a school in Ethiopia’s Dibate region that faces chronic water shortages. The direct impact of this investment would address the issue of school absences due to water-related illness and time spent collecting water, mostly by girls. By supporting health and education in this way, CPAR would be building the capacity of the community to lead more productive lives, reducing the factors that lead to HIV/AIDS and orphanhood. $10,000 could build five water tanks in five different communities, impacting approximately 1000 students directly, and many others indirectly.

I might adopt a child from Africa or Asia when I’m ready to be a mother. But if I do, I’ll make sure that I simultaneously contribute to addressing the development issues facing the country in the hopes that in the future, the country will be able to take care of its own young. And I’ll ensure that the child I’m adopting doesn’t have any other option, that its family hasn’t seen an opportunity in the demand for babies and sold its baby into adoption to make ends meet.

Until then, I will still get a little edgy when the doorman at the Hilton kindly leans over and asks me, “Where is your Ethiopian baby?”

Human Traffic: Ethiopia's Sex Trade

2007-03-27T02:20:00.000-07:00

Something that constantly throws me off guard here in Ethiopia is the sex trade. I have been to Cuba where there is constant pressure to contract a “friend for a day”, or on Jarvis Street near College where women of the night walk around in shoes that defy gravity. But it’s nothing like here. The Ethiopian sex trade has found itself into every nook and cranny of society, and it’s basically accepted (maybe not the individual sex trade workers, but the whole concept of sex trade). And unlike Thailand, it’s not for foreigners and UN employees, but for everyone to partake in…even the poorest of the poor.

There is no need for an Addis red light district- one can find prostitutes in clusters on virtually every corner of the city, and of course in the bars. The thing that’s most amazing is the layers of the trade: transactional sex, commercial sex, a job in a local alcohol shop cum brothel, a financially supportive week-long ‘boyfriend’…there are so many ways the trade manifests itself.

Both CPAR and CAPAIDS work against the sex trade, the first in rural communities and the latter in Addis itself, and both of them focus on the implications of the sex trade on HIV/AIDS. This weekend I visited the commercial sex worker income generation activities of CAPAIDS partner, HAPCSO. The women I met come from rural areas seeking work, don’t find it, and then end up working as prostitutes in local alcohol shops. If they have sex without a condom, they make 10birr per trick (about $1!) and with a condom, only about 1birr. HAPCSO has given them training in sewing, leather work, and construction vehicle driving. Now these women are able to support themselves in getting out of the sex trade, and advocate on HIV/AIDS to those that still remain in the brothels. Often, the organization faces resistance as so many community leaders benefit from continued prostitution, but HAPCSO has been lucky to find a Kebele (city neighbourhood) with a supportive leadership and has begun projects there. The next step is to expand projects to reach more of the massive number of sex workers living in Addis.

Third World sex trade is featured in activism, literature and development academics, but I never expected it to find its way into my work, my neigbourhood or my friend group.

In the Public Eye

2007-03-20T05:28:00.000-07:00

One of the big differences I’ve found between the developing and developed world are public versus private acts. One could say that definitions of what should be private, or indoors, are slightly more liberal here. For example, in Ethiopia, funerals take place in the middle of the street, with a tent stretching from kerb to kerb. Peeing, sleeping and praying are also things that it is completely acceptable to do in the public eye, most often on the side of busy roads. On the other hand though, I have yet to see someone eating or reading while on public transit, and upon questioning local friends, these acts are apparently not suitable for Ethiopians. My public-private logic gets confused: it’s not okay to eat in public, but it is okay to urinate?

My favourite open-air moments in Addis are by far the times when industry can’t afford a factory, and sets up shop on a street corner. The other day I stumbled (literally) upon a tin factory in between shoe shine boys. Located on a slope, the assembly line of tin funnels still managed to function at a break-neck pace. The youngest hammered tin scrap straight, dodging pedestrians by moving to the edge of the sidewalk and facing unimaginable risks from opening car doors. After finishing a sheet, the boy would cut out circles of tin, ready to be put together by three men with soldering guns held between their toes. The marvel of the scene was how these men managed to produce funnel after funnel without distraction or suffering from burns, despite the busy street where their outdoor factory was located. They did have time to notice there was a foreigner walking by, though, and sent out the normal grins and catcalls, without breaking pace for a second.

Censorship and Kidnapping

2007-03-12T01:36:00.000-07:00

For the first time in months, I was able to log onto my Blog today. I’ve been able to post stories and photos, but never get a look at what I’m posting. I’m not sure what the un-censoring of blogspot means, but it must be a good thing! A lot of times I don’t understand why some things are censored and others aren’t. The Ethiopian government tends to have a problem if they are being “misrepresented” in the press, but are less concerned with the information received by Ethiopians, as far as I can tell. So it’s strange that they would make blogspot unavailable, which hosts blogs of expats and locals that talk about daily life in the Cradle of Humanity, yet I can still go a press search on Ethiopia and learn about the devastating affects of cholera that still haven’t been formally recognized by those in charge here.

Another Ethiopian moment in the news is the recent kidnappings of the British ‘tourists’ in Afar region. It’s strange, because in Addis where the expat community is so small and tight knit, there is only one degree of separation between me and the people that are missing, yet the CNN coverage (the only channel I get) seems so removed. Some of my friends work for the British embassy and were called from Friday night festivities the day that the group went missing to help with the search and publicity. My roommate recognized the cars shown on CNN, with bullet holes, as being of a good friend of hers. Another acquaintance was supposed to go with the group, but decided not to. Everyone in this NGO/Embassy bubble in Addis seems not to be able to get the issue off their minds, which is expected when faced with kidnapping in a country you feel safe in! There are daily prayers at a local church, and yesterday at a production of the Vagina Monologues, the group was mentioned and wished safe return.

Something that has happened over and over since I got here is a feeling of strangeness to be in the middle of things, of something. And I see whatever it is represented on TV or the newspaper, and it feels like they are talking about something else entirely.

For more information: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6433935.stm

A Day in the Life...in the Cradle of Humanity

2007-03-01T04:44:00.000-08:00

It’s Tuesday morning. My cell phone alarm starts off at 7am, blaring every ten minutes as I keep hitting snooze. The electronic voice says, “It’s now 7:30, it’s time to wake up.” As it gets closer to 8am, I imagine greater urgency in the recorded voice and wonder groggily if it’s real or imagined. After a visit to our roach-infested bathroom, I throw on some clothes and lock my closet door to protect what’s left of my electronics. Plunking down a plate of food for Colin, our three month old rescued mongrel, I dash for the compound gates and hope there’s an almost full minibus waiting to take me to the minibus park where I transfer. Before I can make it safely inside the public taxi, though, I must greet the ladies in the store next to our house, respond in the negative to shouts of “Mister, shine shoes!” and “Taxi?” and dodge the beggars that have a tendency to get under foot.

Sometimes I might have to squeeze into the taxi’s back seat- made for three, but in Ethiopia fits four- but usually I get one to myself and whip out my book. At the Dildi minibus station (under Addis’s Ring Road circumnavigating the city), about five minutes later, I tumble out and dodge my way through shouts depicting different destinations in the city. Sometimes, I have an urge to get on one going in the wrong direction, just to see where it takes me. But, instead, I walk to the right place in the bustling station, and keep my ears out for someone yelling, “Gerji, Gerji, Gerji,” usually a small boy of about 9 or 10, hard at work. I used to buy a bambolino (donut) from the woman on the kerb, until my local friend explained that it was quite below my status to do such a thing. Now, I get my donuts from the shop outside the office, which is status appropriate, apparently.

On a lucky day I get straight to the office from the minibus station. Other times, the bus is empty except for me, and the driver and conductor decide to kick me out and turn around in an effort to maximize revenue. I’ve learned that you’ve got to get the conductor to usher you onto another bus, and make some agreement, otherwise you have to pay another fare. I get off at the bakery, stop for donuts, turn the corner and enter the CPAR compound. My next task is to fumble through greetings with other staff, hoping that in my poor Amharic, I haven’t accidentally called the mechanic a woman, or the gender officer a man, or worst of all, if I’ve ignored someone. Entering my office, I know whether it’s a Monday or Wednesday by the fact that my office mate’s chair is empty. On these days she attends class at Addis Ababa University for her Master’s Degree.

I switch my computer on and greedily check my emails, noting down the to-dos they hold and saving the ones from the boyfriend for last. I tackle my to-do list head on, which can include anything from editing a report, internet research on a potential donor, or writing a blog update, proposal, or something for the website. I might phone the CAPAIDS partners to make an appointment for later on in the week, or read a document as part of my thesis research. At 10am, my phone rings once on the internal line, followed quickly by a similar call on my office mate’s phone: the signal for tea time. Zergi, Abonesh, Tiringo, Haimanot and I, and occasionally Biruk and Bantirgu, meet in the lobby for tea and more bambolino. Before the break ends, I quickly pour another cup of tea for myself and escape to my office with it. Atsede, the tea lady with the giant smile, will come and collect it from me later and pretend that she’s mad at me for giving her more work to do.

Focused on the to-do list again, I work until the 12:30 lunch call. As I wash my hands in the bathroom behind the office, I hope for dishes with cabbage and kale, and not with bones or sheep’s stomach. I take my plate, choose between injera and a fork, and then take my place in the canteen. My North American culture means that I’m finished in half the time of my coworkers, and I get teased for that and the fact that I eat like a child- a product of not a lot of injera experience. Before 1:30 strikes, I escape to the back to sit in the sun with a book for a few minutes, before the jeers of the construction workers next door send me back into my office.

In the afternoon, I work out the logistics of the next day, booking a car and driver if I have a meeting. I’ll spend the last two hours trawling the ‘net for funding opportunities, creating a database of donors to approach. Don’t tell, but I sneak 15 minutes to chat with people back home as they begin to wake up, just as my workday ends.

At 5pm there’s a scramble to get out of the office to catch, “The Service,” a van provided by CPAR that drops all the staff close to their homes in the afternoon because of the prohibitive cost and time of public transportation here. The Service is one of my favourite times of the day, with everyone squished in the back, laughing and joking. I’m one of the first to be dropped off, just in front of the huge Medhane Alem Church I’ve shown in photos. Arriving at my house, I do the morning ritual in reverse- beggars/taxi shoe shine/ladies in the shop- often I’m invited into the tiny store to drink traditional buna (coffee) with the women. The sweet, strong, almost syrupy liquid reminds me every time I drink it that I’m certainly not in Canada anymore. Despite our language barrier, the group of us still manages to communicate, joke and laugh. After relaxing for a while, someone will announce dinner plans, either by arriving or calling, and we’re off into Addis again, out of the tranquility of life behind a compound door. The only requirement: anything but injera. After dinner, the evening’s entertainment might hold a documentary screening, pool, drinks, a show or live music, or episodes of 24. At about 11 or 12 I crawl into bed, willing myself to fall asleep before the loud-speaker prayers start at the church next door.

The End of Poverty?

2007-02-19T06:03:00.000-08:00

I recently read Jeffery Sachs’ The End of Poverty. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but was excited to pick up at development best-seller- not a common combination! While I usually try to avoid non-fiction when I’m not at school or working, and tend to have a fiction addiction, I think TEOP will find its way onto my 2007 top ten list.

The book does a great job of summarizing most of my four year international development degree, from discussions of absolute versus relative poverty, to the best way to address the issues of environment, health, education and livelihoods in the developing world. And Sachs does it in a way that makes development concepts accessible: he looks at development as a ladder, and those facing extreme poverty have not been able to get their feet on even the first rung. Thus, the requirements of aid can be seen as inputs to help that group reach the bottom of the ladder and begin to work their way up. He also brings down the issues to a single number: $75billion dollars a year until 2025, at which point he believes that all human kind could be on the development ladder and extreme poverty would be eliminated. Hence, the End of Poverty!

Situated, as he is, in the heart of American development politics and economics, Sachs was also able to do a good job of explaining the successes and deficiencies of his country’s aid contributions. Like the discussion in the previous post, this has helped to give me a more detailed view of America’s role in the development world, which I find really interesting. He called on a number of American thinkers and activists to give power to his arguments for the potential of the end of extreme poverty. Paraphrasing Martin Luther King, Jr, Sach’s says “The bank of international justice is not bankrupt,” and explains how people like King, Gandhi, and Mandela “transformed the impossible into the inevitable.” While many people think ending poverty is impossible, and that we in the West can't afford it, Sachs is busy making us realize that we can, and we should.

His point is obviously more and better action, which is heralded over and over again by poverty activists like Bono, Angelina Jolie or Bob Geldof. But the good thing about Sachs is that he manages to mainstream his ideas about aid and development, and introduce them in more conservative economic circles than would usually listen to the rockstar rolemodels. In his final "to do list", Sachs calls everyone to “make a personal commitment,” something I believe in very strongly. He ends the book with this quote:

Let no one be discouraged by the belief that there is nothing one man or one woman can do against the enormous array of the world’s ills- against misery and ignorance, injustice and violence…Few will have the greatness to bend history itself; but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total of all those acts will be written the history of this generation. -- Robert Kennedy

"I am Canadian" from an international development perspective

2007-02-14T04:32:00.000-08:00

In a Canadian politics class in my first year of university, my professor did a survey on the first day: “What makes us Canadian?” Of all the varied answers, the one most consistent was, “we are not Americans.” This attitude is practically spoon fed to us at birth, and leads to a slight tendency to over-assert our Canadian-ness when we’re overseas. It is a direct product of our view of Canada as a soft power, working steadily and enthusiastically towards world peace and the end of poverty. Needless to say, I was taken aback when I began to be confronted with attitudes to Canada and America that surprised me.

Based on my academic understanding of aid, where sustainability is key and more does not necessarily mean better, I felt that Canada as a donor country would be in such a poor country’s good books, and America would be chastised for food aid: dumping agricultural products in developing countries and thereby undermining markets. Yet, when I arrived and started getting my NGO bearings, I found that this wasn’t the case. Instead, Canada’s institutional inconsistencies (particularly, withdrawal of bilateral aid, but as yet no return to NGO funding) were trumped by America’s long-lasting bilateral commitment to the country, even if the aid itself wasn’t the best kind. Morally as well, America comes up number one here, as its government continues stand up against gay marriage where ours doesn’t.

Yet, within the ex-pat community, this pro-American attitude is completely reversed. Out socially in Addis, I’m shocked at the number of times my American roommate is asked to claim responsibility for all his country’s missteps. He has been faced with unsolicited shouting, finger pointing, and dirty looks as he is questioned, “Why don’t you get your troops out of Iraq,” as if a withdrawal is within his power as an individual. One Canadian even went so far as to tell him that she hated him, simply because of his nationality.

By realizing that my perception of Canada as the “ideal developer” is certainly skewed, and coming face to face with my tendency to scapegoat America for the lack of global momentum towards development, perhaps I will be able to be more constructive in finding development solutions as a North American.

To Have a Voice, To Have a Choice

2007-02-05T00:46:00.000-08:00

It's currently International Development Week 2007. Sponsored by CIDA, universities and NGOs, there are many events going on around Canada. This year's topic is Gender and Equity, focusing on "To have a Voice, To have a Choice."

Here are some links to events going on around the country. I know I should have gotten them up earlier, but I hope that you get the chance to attend at least one throughout the week.

CPAR Canada

Ontario British Columbia Nova Scotia

I took this picture in Dibate district, located in one of the most underserved regions of Ethiopia, where CPAR has one of its program areas. This girl is the daughter of one of CPAR's beneficiaries who participates in a income generating scheme: CPAR has helped to establish a beekeeping business for this family so they can break away from subsitance and afford school and medical fees. For me, this photo epitomizes the issues of poverty, and specifically gender, here in Ethiopia. Because her family is so large- 12 brothers and sisters, including some orphans taken in- she is needed at the house to help her mother. Even at such a young age, she's in charge of her two younger brothers, which means that it is unlikely that she'll ever attend school. Yet despite the extreme poverty that she inhabits, this young girl is staring me in the face with strength and confidence.

I think about this girl when I think about the topic of this year's International Development Week. I wish she had a Voice, and had a Choice.

World Health Day Challenge 2007

2007-02-01T01:43:00.000-08:00

In honour of World Health Day, April 7th, 2007, CPAR is holding its 2nd Annual World Health Day Challenge . CPAR is extending the challenge to physicians and health care professionals all across Canada to donate part or an entire day's worth of their income to CPAR in support of important health and development projects in vulnerable rural African communities.

Last year, over 60 physicians and health care professionals from across Canada raised over $30,000 and demonstrated their commitment to health and development by taking the first ever World Health Day Challenge. I sincerely hope that you will participate this year and help make this year's event even bigger and better!

This year we are asking participants to register online. We have created a special website for the World Health Day Challenge which will allow you to easily recruit colleagues to join your efforts and even to ask friends and family to support the cause by sponsoring your participation. If you prefer to remain anonymous you can do that too by opting out of these options.

To register please CLICK HERE

If you have any questions about this campaign or about CPAR's work in building healthy communities in Africa, please do not hesitate to contact chwadhwani@cpar.ca.

Ethiopia in the Press

2007-01-29T00:09:00.000-08:00

A week ago, CNN and BBC were plastered with news of escalating conflict in the Horn of Africa, with Ethiopia’s troops still in Somalia and the United States’ attempts to catch terrorists with bombs. But what have you heard about the county I currently call my home this week? Nothing. Yet, this week, a story just as news worthy has stormed the city of Addis Ababa: the African Union Summit. All weekend, roads have been closed off and police line the streets to ensure safe arrival to the likes of Ban Ki Moon (the new UN Secretary General), African presidents such as Bashir or Mugabe, and, perhaps with slightly less security, the continent’s policy makers.

I crave a mainstream media source that will give the same type of coverage and attention to this meeting as they have to the World Economic Forum in Davos this past week. I know it’s been said before- Africa is sidelined and pigeon holed in the media, where only stories of conflict and disaster grab the global spotlight- but it wasn’t until I arrived here that I realized just how much action is happening on the ground. I feel that without media attention, the outcomes of this type of meeting will not be supported to successful action. Put the spotlight on Africa, not just for more aid and new initiatives run by Western donors, but for support of sophisticated indigenous action that is already taking place.

CPAR is involved in this type of action on a smaller scale, working within NGO groups to increase its coverage, scale up its projects, and provide more integrated interventions. At the moment, it’s working with CANGO (a consortium of Canadian NGOs) to multiply its work around Dibate and Bullen in one of Ethiopia’s most developmentally isolated regions, contributing its experience and expertise to a project that, as a small NGO, CPAR wouldn’t have the capacity to implement on its own.

Timket Celebrations in Addis Ababa

2007-01-22T03:45:00.000-08:00

One of the biggest celebrations of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church is Timket, or Epiphany. This weekend, the streets were full of Ethiopian Christians following the march of Ark of the Covenant replicas around Addis Ababa.

Timket crowds following the Ark of the Covenant

Three women in Ethiopian traditional clothes

A little Ethiopian dressed in traditional clothes

Ethiopian Orthodox Clergy and the Ark of the Covenant

Timket Ceremony at Medhane Alem Church

African Homecoming

2007-01-11T03:16:00.000-08:00

It is with many apologies for a prolonged blog absence that I come back online after my East African vacation. Over the past three weeks, I've travelled through Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania, making it as far as Zanzibar off the East coast of the continent. Relaxed and with visa, I am back at my desk in the CPAR office in Addis Ababa.

While my trip was a vacation, it got me thinking a lot about Ethiopia's unique development situation in the continent. Never having been colonized, the differences between Addis and somewhere like cosmopolitain Nairobi are immediately apparent. Everything from the prices, the infrastructure, and the goods available had me feeling like I was in a North American suburb. Looking farther, past the material goods and shiny billboards, even the representations of poverty and the attitudes towards foreigners were different in all three countries as compared with Ethiopia. These differences made me realize just how self-directed the action within this country is, with society and government making things up as they go along, rather than taking an example from other nations. Now that I've realized this, I'll try to think about it more, looking for the ways in which Ethiopians are innovating their own futures, both on an individual and societal level.

As the plane touched down at the airport in Addis, I found myself bouncing in my seat, happy to be home.

Photo Update- Kampala, Uganda

2006-12-20T03:37:00.000-08:00

Downtown Kampala, 5 days before Christmas
Urban Wildlife in Downtown Kampala
Canadian Interns on a BodaBoda motorcycle taxi

Travel Log: First Leg, Addis/Nairobi/Kampala

2006-12-19T00:43:00.000-08:00

Here I am on my "required" vacation, as a result of visa problems in Ethiopia. What a hard life!

On Sunday evening I flew from Ethiopia to Kenya, and spent the night with another intern in Nairobi. The next morning I found myself at a bus station, confused and lost with no idea which bus I was supposed to be on. I looked around, trying to find an official looking person, a signboard, or even a line that would indicate some order in the chaos. Finally, I found a man taking tickets! He told me that my bus wasn't there yet, but it would be along soon. I periodically shoved my ticket under his nose until, a few buses later, he took it and ushered me to my seat. I was destined to arrive in Kampala, Uganda fifteen hours later.

I had had some problems changing my money to Kenyan shillings because my American bills were too dishevelled for the tastes of the black market currency vendors. So, there I was on a 15 hour bus ride with no money, no water, no food, and tremendous hopes that I would manage to get a Ugandan visa. I felt a bit like Jack Kerouac's On the Road, booting it across the United States and back with very limited finances, but gaining tremendous beat insight. Finally, at 11pm, I arrived in Kampala with a very empty stomach, and a Ugandan visa in my passport.

Here I am now at the CPAR Uganda office. It's nice to see another branch of CPAR, visiting the ever enthusiastic staff and different programs. I look forward to seeing as much of this country as I can in such a short 6 days. Yet despite this mini-adventure within the larger internship adventure, I find myself missing Ethiopia already!

Christmas Reading Recommendation: My Heart is Africa by Scott Griffin, a Canadian who flew from Toronto to Nairobi where he worked with the Flying Doctors Service for two years.

Visas and Christmas

2006-12-13T02:54:00.001-08:00

Just a quick update to those interested. Because of some problems with my visa, I've been asked (not so kindly, complete with jail and court threats) by the Ethiopian government to leave the country. My plan is to head to the CPAR office in Uganda where I will apply for another visa, and try to see as much of the projects there as possible. From there I'll go on my Christmas and New Year vacation to Kenya. Hopefully I'll be able to post about my adventures from these other African countries, but if not, holiday greetings and I'll be back in Addis on January 3rd. Just in time for Ethiopian Christmas on January 6th!

Kate

World Aids Day 2006

2006-11-30T03:53:00.000-08:00

A year ago tomorrow, I was in the foyer of the University of Toronto’s medical building, wearing a sweaty tshirt with a red ribbon on it, peddling my heart out but getting nowhere. I was participating in the Race for Dignity on stationary bikes, raising money for anti-retroviral treatment for Africans living with HIV/AIDS. I never expected then that I would be celebrating the next World Aids Day in Africa while working with non-governmental organizations who deal with primary health care and HIV/AIDS issues every day.

Ethiopia’s experience with the AIDS pandemic is both lucky and unlucky. Estimates say that 1.5million people have been infected here, out of a population of 75million- a devastating number. But, with the institution of universal access to free anti-retroviral treatment comes the possibility of change for those infected and affected by HIV/AIDS.

Yesterday I went with a coworker to visit Addis Hiwot, an organization of people living with HIV/AIDS. In Amharic, Addis Hiwot means “New Life,” and for the twenty people in the group, the organization has lived up to its name. Yalemzoud Mengistu, one of the members of the group, described to me what her life was like before coming to work in the Addis Hiwot’s recreation centre. AIDS was beating her, leaving her bedridden as a result of her low CD4 count. After receiving ART drugs, Yalemzoud was able to start working again. She told me, “When I was at home, I was thinking about the virus, crying every day. Now, I don’t have the time to think about the virus. I’m busy every day and surrounded by others in the same situation as me.” As well, through the organization, she is able to afford the balanced diet necessary to make the drug cocktail taken by her and her son effective.

The story of Yalemzoud’s situation repeats itself all over Africa, and increasingly, Asia. But most people bedridden with AIDS don’t have the chance to get out of bed and make a new life for themselves.

World Aids Day seems to have more meaning to me than Thanksgiving just past, or Christmas coming up because it deals much more with Humanity. This past summer I was so inspired by the sheer number of people working towards positive change who attended the AIDS 2006 conference in Toronto. But even the thirty or so thousand attendees don’t represent the numbers infected in one Sub-Saharan country, let alone in the whole continent.

I know there’s no turkey, or stockings, or mistletoe, but I urge you to grab hold of World Aids Day somehow so we can better represent the people affected and infected, and mobilize ourselves towards change. I’ll be in Ethiopia, attending the theatre and music festivities in the middle of Addis Ababa.

World Aids Day Actions
• Wear your red ribbon
• Attend an event at your university, high school, community centre
• Donate time or money to an organization working for change
• Read an article to increase your awareness, and then discuss it someone else
• Share whatever action you take, to prompt others to take an action too

Reflection after 2 Months

2006-11-22T03:17:00.000-08:00

I have just past my 2 month mark here in Ethiopia. Before leaving, I had been preparing for my year abroad since getting into the International Development program at the University of Toronto, and felt ready for anything. More specifically, I felt ready for an extremely difficult year of cultural difference, heart wrenching poverty, and loneliness. I couldn’t have been more wrong. There is something about Ethiopia and Ethiopians that make my time here so different from the year I was expecting.

To start off with, I am moved daily by the universal generosity here. Sometimes the culture of beggars here frustrates and disturbs me because it is so entrenched in society. How can growth and development occur if people ask for money and food rather than doing something productive to earn a living? But the thing that amazes me about it is that every single Ethiopian, no matter how poor they are themselves, will find 10 birr cents to put into the hands of a blind man or leper that comes to ask at the door of the minibus, or a quarter to give to the rural woman in rags with a baby strapped to her back. This distribution is common among everyone. Even when you present someone with a gift, they thank you and take it (without the protestations we are used to in the West), because they know that they or someone else will return the generosity to you in the near future.

This redistribution relates closely to perspectives of poverty among the poor themselves. Ethiopia is the 5th poorest country in the world, it suffers frequently from natural disasters and food insecurity, and the rate of HIV/AIDS is steadily increasing. I knew not to expect the glamorized distended bellies that appear on World Vision commercials, but still those images were there in my head. I met an 18 year old woman last week. Her mother had died from AIDS contracted from commercial sex work, she and her brother had been raped by men in the community, and she has a 4 year old daughter as a result. Now, as the oldest child in the family, she is responsible to take care of her daughter, brother and sister. Despite these terrible difficulties, the woman was smiling and welcoming as I entered her house. Her attitude showed that despite poverty, life and happiness continue, and she’ll do what it takes to provide herself and her family with a better future. Apart from the odd pessimist, this mentality has been visible in all the struggling people I’ve met, from CPAR beneficiaries to my neighbours and friends.

At CPAR, I’ve been surprised by how wrong my expectations were as well. During pre-departure training with the University and CIDA, we often talked about cross-cultural difficulties in the work place. I was to expect that as an independent Western woman, I would find things in office that contradicted my understanding of myself and my worth, or even simply made deadlines hard to meet. I wouldn’t necessarily be able to be “me”. Over my first few weeks here, I tried to keep my “heart-on-my-sleeve” temperament in check, keeping culturally sensitive issues to myself, like my lack of religion, my acceptance of homosexuality, and my tendency to take control to get things done. As I became closer to friends at work, I realized that they understood and expected me to be different, and that was okay. The first time my “get it done mode” kicked in before a deadline, I called my boss later to apologize for my assertive behaviour, but was encouraged to take this roll again when needed. And one of the favourite past times of my co-workers and me is to joke about our respective cultures. If you come by the office at tea time one afternoon, you’ll see me walking around like a chicken, poking fun of the “Toronto hurry”.

The generosity, positive attitude, hope and tolerance of Ethiopians contributes daily to my African happiness. At this point, I feel more at home here than I have in Toronto, with fulfilling work and a great social life. I might have felt prepared to leave Canada and come to Addis, but I can’t imagine what it will be like to go back. Only 8 months to go.

Believe it or Not

2006-11-12T21:45:00.000-08:00

Most Ethiopians Believe. In fact, I haven’t met one yet who doesn’t.

According to my pre-departure Ethio-Info package, the population is made up of about 45 percent Orthodox Christians, 35 percent Muslims, and 20 percent “Other”. These three groups live together in relative peace, although people tell me that tensions are rising because of the global climate.

As an agnostic with no history of religious affiliation, I wondered what such a pious population would think of me, and whether it would affect my work environment. When asked about my religion, I get different reactions from different people. Some want to take me immediately to get baptized. Others don’t quite understand it, “does that mean that you are a pagen?” as they can’t imagine not having at least some sort of god in life. And others take my lack of spirituality in stride, saying that they’ve met other Canadians who have the same attitude, and they think it’s normal for us.

Since I’ve been here, we’ve celebrated the Christian holiday of Meskel, lived through the month of Ramadan and experienced the Islamic holiday Eid. But it’s not just these big holidays that get the faithful riled up here. Each church has a patron saint and a certain day of the month when that saint is worshipped, bringing in crowds of people, praying, selling and begging. Driving by, you can tell what saint’s day it is by the number of people around the church. It’s possible to follow the celebrations around the city from church to church, if you like the crowds of people and loudly broadcast messages from the Bible. The poorest people in Addis follow them too, knowing that Ethiopians are more generous on holidays.

Yesterday was the annual worship and celebration for Medhane Alem (“Medicine of the World,” or Jesus) which is the church across from my house. When I stepped out of my compound onto the street yesterday, I wasn’t expecting to end up in a sea of begging bodies, bright umbrellas and ladies in white head scarves, a sermon blasting from the huge speakers. A coworker took me inside the church compound after work. I’d been nervous to go, as tourism in other people’s holy places makes me wonder, but she encouraged me to come and see the festivities. The scene was a strange mix of serious and celebratory. I was surprised at how individual the worship and prayer were, not with a priest in a pulpit, but one broadcasting over the loudspeaker from the front steps. Inside the church itself, worshippers got down on their knees or raised their hands in the air without direction from a member of the church hierarchy, and the sheer emotion of faith that many exhibited was quite moving. As I moved outside again, I realized that of the thousands of people in the compound, there was a careful division between men and women. The aesthetic result was powerful: white clothed women on one side, and men in dark suits on the other.

As I walked through, with my own white head scarf falling back from my forehead, I made mental notes of the practices, trying to fit the whole situation into my world view. The Saints, and the sign of the crucifix made me think of Catholicism. The people with their heads pressed up against the wall of the church in prayer made me think of Judaism. And the division of men and women, and the head scarves, reminded me of Islam. How did I end up in such a unique country?

Dibate Field Visit

2006-10-30T07:07:00.000-08:00

A week ago I went with five coworkers to visit CPAR's farthest and most remote program area in Ethiopia. Dibate, in the Benishangul-Gumuz province in North Western part of the country, which almost touches Sudan. The area is very rural- even Dibate town doesn't have restaurants or a large market – and is home to a number of different ethnic groups, making it a very interesting development context.

To get there, we stopped one night at the CPAR Jarso basecamp and the next day traveled on to Dibate. Just past the basecamp, our 4x4 began a steep decline into the Blue Nile Gorge. The road was unpaved and rough, and about half way down we got a flat tyre. We were instantly helped by two mechanics and were soon on our way again. At the bottom of the valley was the Blue Nile, which, when it joins the White Nile, forms the famous Nile River. We crossed the bridge (I didn't take any photos because once a ‘farenj’ was shot doing so) and started climbing the other side. The landscape was amazing- it was as incredible as I imagine the Grand Canyon to be. At one point I saw a monkey!

We stopped to fix the flat in a small town. I got out of the car to stretch my legs. Within five minutes I'd attracted quite a crowd. They surrounded me (about 40 of them) against the car to stare and practice their English. I must have been asked what time it was 100 times! When asked, it turned out that I was the first white person some of them had ever seen.

The flat delayed us quite a bit but the landscape stayed incredible. We didn't make it to Dibate before 6 pm and decided to stay in a hotel about 50km from the base camp. When we arrived on Thursday and settled in, we got to work on our assorted responsibilities (there was a lot on the agenda for our visit.) I was tasked with developing case studies of CPAR's beneficiaries in the area as I had also done in Jarso. I went with both Abebe and Maru to visit many of CPAR's initiatives, including HIV/AIDS education, improved seed farms, woodlots, water points, and best of all one of the community schools in the very remote Gumuz villages.

By the end of the day, I felt as though I was in life-overload. I had sped through the African countryside on a dirt bike, no helmet, no roads. I had watched a woman, pregnant with her first child, lying against her mother in the dirt in pain because of the start of the birth. I had seen many times the Ethiopian version of a baby in a diaper: a baby with no pants. Because I looked so different, I had been asked questions, through an informal translator, like "are you a man or a woman?", "Can you talk?", "Can you laugh?" People would reach out and touch my hair or my arms and be absolutely amazed with the result. Or, I would reach out and touch them and they would scream and sprint 10 feet to safety. Each time we would leave the village, a crowd of children would come sprinting after me yelling, "Farenj Farenj" ("white person white person") I would reply "Habisha Habisha" ("Ethiopian Ethiopian") and they would laugh uncontrollably.

Throughout the trip, despite the language barrier, my camera was great for facilitating interaction. Each person pushed and shoved to be within the range of the lens. And when I turned it around to show them, there would be even more pushing and shoving, this time with pointing and plenty of chatter. One woman I interviewed about CPAR's HIV/AIDS educational interventions in town didn't want her picture taken because she is shy about her disability. I promised that I would show her what it looked like and she could tell me to erase it if she didn't like it. She chose to keep it and asked for a copy which I will provide the next time I'm in the field. I don't think she'd ever seen herself on camera!

One thing that I found very surprising is just how much some of the people I saw while in Dibate fit into the western stereotype of African cultures. They live in huts, their babies are naked and sometimes so are they. They live to live, not to accumulate or to plan, and they live in the most remote place I've ever been. One of the Gumuz people (An Ethiopian ethnic group) showed me how to grind something called finger millet. I got down on my hands and knees and used the stone to pummel it into a fine powder. Hard work.

On the way back to Dibate Town, it began to rain and we stopped for shelter in a cluster of huts and shops. I was ushered into the sheltered courtyard and offered the only chair. One guy seemed like the ring leader, and demanded (politely) "Photo Photo" and put his hands up to his eyes like goggles. I took it and again the crowd swarmed around me to inspect it. When the leader, in his traditional clothes, said "Bakah" (enough) and shooed the rest away so I could have some space, the questions began. "Do you speak Arabic?" "Do you have some medicine for my rough hands?" "Are you married?"

By the time we arrived back in Addis just under a week later, I was exhausted because of the overwhelming experience of rural Africa. Days on the road I find are the most intense here. I have lots of time to think without acting, and at the same time am inundated with new sensory treats. I wish that I'd written down all my insights, but I guess sometimes I've just got to think them and let them go. Suffice to say that the things I do and see here continuously make me question my world view, my norms, my identity. And I'm fairly sure that the result will be positive!

City: Slick?

2006-10-15T22:35:00.000-07:00

I’ve been to a few cities in my life. Try London, Paris, Havana, Chicago, Amsterdam, Los Angeles, Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver, to name a few. And here I am in Addis Ababa. If I had to compare I would say that Addis is right up there with Scarborough in my list of ugliest cities visited so far. The buildings are plain or just plain strange, the scaffolding is terrifying and prolific, the roads are full of holes and debris, and informal structures take over the streets: corrugated aluminum huts, makeshift fruit stalls and converted freight containers. But there is something about the city that makes up for all of physical deficiencies.

Take, for example, the transportation. While at first glance travel on a Minibus (communal taxi bus) seems chaotic and risky, they make travel around the city relatively quick and painless. For about 1 Birr ($0.08 Canadian) from my house, I’ll arrive at one of two central Minibus stations and can carry on for the same price again to anywhere in the city I want to go. And unlike Canada, there is always a Minibus waiting for you.

This weekend, I attempted my longest Minibus journey so far (two transfers at a total cost of about 50 cents) to Merkato, Africa’s largest open-air market. This is another one of the things that redeems Addis. I went with a coworker and his relative, as its unlikely that I would have been able to manage the sprawling marketplace on my own. The congestion on the way was unbelievable, and the actions the drivers take are awe-inspiring- if it’s going to get you somewhere faster, driving on the wrong side of the road is completely acceptable. But, when you step out of the Minibus into the teeming life of Merkato, you can understand why everyone is trying to get there. I don’t know how big the place is, as after 2 hours of walking around we’d only covered a third of it, but I guarantee that you can buy anything under the sun. A malay of cars, people, donkeys, food and manufactured goods, I was barely capable of understanding the shopping possibilities.

Merkato isn’t just a place to shop, though. Really, it’s a microcosm of Addis that showcases the gem of Addis: the people. Sometimes I feel like a rock star here because of all the attention I get, and once my friends bought me a souvenir scarf in Ethiopian colours, that attention doubled. The sentiments called out as I walked by in my new scarf testified to the pride and hospitality that I’ve encountered with each Ethiopian I’ve met. A “Welcome to Addis Ababa,” “I love Ethiopia,” and “Hello, how are you,” shouted by every third person is enough to convince me to stay here, compared to aggressive merchants, pickpockets and beggars I had been warned about.

At one point, we turned a corner and came across a group of about 5 old men on a blanket. One of them had a drum and they were singing traditional songs, trying to earn enough for dinner. A few steps further and I saw a group of about 15 women, singing and clapping and drumming as well. I pointed to my camera to ask if I could take a picture. The music got louder and more enthusiastic as I crouched down to get to their level, and they smiled as I photographed them.

On every corner of Addis you see new buildings going up, and past the city’s Ring Road construction is rampant. One of my friends told me the other day that it is as if he can see Addis waking up after years of Communist rule. I like to think that maybe the informality of the city is temporary, and that one day its surface will match the vibrant humanity that is present underneath.

Embarassing Moments

2006-10-11T01:43:00.000-07:00

There is something about being in a foreign country with different systems and ways of doing things, combined with the fact that I am so visible as a foreigner, that leads to frequent embarrassing moments.

The first in the series was a couple of weeks ago now (and I’m only just ready to talk about it!). I was walking along the dirt road towards the CPAR compound. In order to make it to the gate, I had to make a right turn, but coming up on my right side was a horse and cart. Not too familiar with horses, I thought that I could make it in front of the buggy. As I went for it, I realized what a miss calculation that was, and in my hurry I dropped my cell phone. I reached back for the phone, to get it safely out of the way of pounding hoofs, and as I did, a roar of shock and laughter went up from the row of merchants across the street. I made it safely into the compound, unscathed. When I decided to venture outside again about an hour later, the laughter began once again at the mere sight of the farenj who almost got hit by the horse!

My cell phone works on a pay-as-you-go system. Each time I run out, I fill it up using the code on the back of a card. The prompts on the card are in English, but over the phone they’re in Amharic. The other day, my phone ran out of minutes for the first time: I dialed the number of one of my Canadian friends, and in response got a stream of Amharic. I figured that maybe the maid had picked up the phone, so I tried in my broken Amharic to explain that I wanted to talk to Dwayne. But she just kept on talking, repeating the same thing over and over again in a language I couldn’t understand. She didn’t even try to say anything about Dwayne! ‘Rude,’ I thought, and hung up the phone. Slowly it dawned on me that I had probably just tried having a conversation with a recording, telling me that my phone credit had run out!

While we were in the CPAR Jarso project areas, visiting with the beneficiaries, one of the farmers reached into his field and picked some pea pods and offered them to me. They contained the sweetest and tastiest peas I’d ever tasted. Two weeks later, I found a man with a wheelbarrow on the corner near my house, selling the same pods. I spent 3 birr (about 40cents Canadian) on half a kilo and took them home for dinner. Unfortunately when I opened the first one, they were mealy and tart. I tried the next one, and experienced the same thing. Not wanting them to go to waste, I brought them to the Lunch Club leader, to include in the menu (cooked) sometime this week. I guess he misunderstood my intention, because the Tea Lady has just arrived in my office with a heaping plate of boiled peas, still in the pod! Coworkers keep coming into my office, looking at the plate of food with a strange glance, and pretending it doesn’t exist. I think I’ll donate it to the lunch buffet when 12:30 hits.

Meskel and Jarso

2006-10-02T21:57:00.000-07:00

Things are getting very busy here for me! My to do list for this week is a mile long, but it consists of diverse and interesting tasks, so I'm very happy with it!

This past week was a unique one: first a holiday on Tuesday and Wednesday, and then a trip to the field with CPAR to Jarso Woreda (Jarso district).

Jarso was great, as I got to meet the CPAR staff that actually makes the projects happen, as well as the beneficiaries of the projects. I went on a hair-raising drive through one of the project areas (a rocky road at the edge of a very high cliff- beautiful, but slightly intense), and then visited with many of the farmers and families that participate in CPAR's activities. I was familar with all the interventions from volunteering with CPAR before, but the thing that was so great to see is just how involved the community is in each of the actions. For example, one of the farmers has recieved a bull from CPAR to grow his cattle herd. But he also offers the same service to other farmers in the community. Another example is a woman participating in the savings and credit organization- she has put CPAR's HIV/AIDS education posters in her house for guests and customers. There were many more examples of how CPAR's beneficiaries turned around and gave back to their community in some way.

On the way back to Addis, there were many events on the road that reminded me once again that I'm not in Canada anymore! There was a race down the side of the highway. Running is huge in Ethiopia, and it's a very big deal. You watch these lanky men, in bright red running shorts, sprinting along. And then you realize that some of them aren't wearing any shoes! At another point we noticed a line of people with guns on their shoulders at the side of the road. And all of a sudden, a line of horses spanning the highway, decked in costumes and ridden by men singing at the top of their lungs are charging towards us!

And then you're just driving through regular Ethiopian highlands once again.

Meskal Celebrations ("The Finding of the True Cross")

Out of Addis

2006-09-25T22:11:00.000-07:00

An exciting trip out of Addis this past week. I went to a small town, Sheshemane, in the Rift Valley, to visit some of the projects of CAPAIDS partner Mekdim. It was a great visit on two counts: my first glimpse of rural Africa, and my first sight of a real live development project in action. It’s hard to imagine that despite studying the topic for the past three years, development has always been an abstract concept in my head. Until now!

The projects we visited were focused on creating associations of people living with HIV/AIDS (PLWHAs) and then organizing them to begin income-generating activities. Basically, after being provided with a piece of land and some money for livestock/seeds, the group of PLWHAs can make a living and also work to educate others about HIV/AIDS. As well as the agriculture-focused project, there were also a number of stores set up by members of the association to sell the usual Ethiopia goods: tissues, soap and legumes. My favourite was that they also had a movie rental shop, which consisted almost entirely of DVDs of the TV show 24. It’s very popular here, and Canadian Kiefer Sutherland, a.k.a Jack Bauer, is highly revered.

As for the landscape, words won’t express my first impressions of the expanses of African trees, mountains, fields and rock craters. Actually, my mediocre fotos from a moving car don’t either, but here they are. I’ll ask you to use your imagination to make the views in the pictures vaster and more vibrant.

***Having trouble uploading fotos because of the size to internet connection ratio. I will try again tomorrow! Many apologies

Safe Livelihoods for Older Orphans

2006-09-23T03:54:00.000-07:00

Today I visited HAPCSO, one of the CAPAIDS partners that I will be working with. This organization is TREMENDOUS! Despite their tiny office, crammed full with people working hard, the group seems to have huge reach and giant goals. They work primarily as caregivers to people living with HIV/Aids. Sister Tibebe told me today that they have about 5000 patients, in all 10 subcities of Addis Ababa! She also explained that even after people go on Anti-Retrovirals (provided free in Ethiopia) there is still an important role for community workers, as many of the patients have difficulties taking the medicine regularly (precision is very important for ARVs to work). It seems like such a simple issue, but many people living with Aids here in Addis don’t have watches, let alone sufficient literacy to read time.

I will be working on a project focused on youth orphaned by Aids that now have to be caregivers and breadwinners for their younger siblings. The project aims to provide vocational or business training to these kids, and then help them to put this training into action. In the end we hope this will mean that the siblings can remain in school, rather than having to earn income at an early age as well.

It’s exciting to be working with two very different development NGOs- CPAR works in rural areas of Ethiopia, while CAPAIDS works with partners in the middle of Addis Ababa. I can’t wait until next week when I travel to the ‘field’ offices with both organizations and get to see the projects in action.

Photo Update

2006-09-18T22:07:00.000-07:00

The view from the window of my little house!

Lunchtime at CPAR-Ethiopia.

The children at Little Voice of Ethiopia shelter.

See previous post for the full story!

Ethiopian Firsts

2006-09-18T11:39:00.000-07:00

I’m still counting the firsts here in Ethiopia: first ride in a mini-bus, first power outage, first week finished. And within my first week was my first weekend. What a good one! On Friday evening I had a restful night, trying to recuperate from a week full of firsts in a strange (but very friendly) landscape. So, I was well rested and up early on Saturday morning, ready for my first attempt at changing money (there are no such thing as lineups in Addis- you just push your way to the closest teller!) After an enjoyable morning exploring the city, I joined one of my coworkers for a drive up Entoto, a mountain overlooking the city. The view wasn’t great, as the weather was rainy and cloudy, but we plan to go up again after the rains stop. On the way down we stopped for “car-service coffee” – you park in front of a café, and the waitress brings the coffee and pastries to your car directly. It’s a great idea, but in practice it’s a bit messy and spilly!

In the evening I met up with a pile of other Canadian interns for dinner and drinks. Among them was Nic, who invited me to spend Sunday at a shelter for street children that his friend established with her NGO, Little Voice of Ethiopia. It was quite a trek to get there- three minibuses, a taxi, and a walk down a very slippery hill – but well worth it! There are six kids there at the moment, and the group is looking to fill the house up with 20 more little bodies. We stayed and played with the children, who are all between 6 and 13, for hours. They enjoyed dancing, memory, dominoes, and especially teaching me the Amharic names for animals and body parts!

This weekend was also the first time I started to see the reality caused by poverty here in Addis. In our drive up the mountain, we passed many women with giant bushels of eucalyptus branches (used for firewood) trudging down the steep incline. They were bent double with the load, and some were pregnant or only young girls themselves. You would never see an Ethiopian man doing the same task, and so I begin to see the gender divide here. At the shelter, amidst smiling and laughing young faces, I realized that these kids have all spent time on the streets and seen things I will never see. For example, one of the girls is there because at 12 she was sent to be married, but because of her desire to continue school and remain independent, she ran away from home.

With each of these firsts, I become more interested in Ethiopia, and happy that I am here with CPAR to work and learn.

Safe and Sound

2006-09-14T08:38:00.000-07:00

Here I am in Africa! To be specific, I'm in the CPAR office in the Bole sub city of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. I arrived on Sunday evening, 26 hours after taking of from Pearson Airport in Toronto. Daniel from the CPAR-Ethiopia office, and his wife Yetnayet kindly picked me up and kept me company during my first Ethiopian meal (very different from Ethiopian in Toronto because the Injera is so light, and so sour!). The next day, amidst preparing my accommodations, I met their lovely 4 year old daughter. She made an effort to teach me Amharic by pointing at objects in the house, saying the Amharic word, and waiting for me to repeat. So, even on day 2 I know useful words such as soap and toilet!

After a couple of days of settling in, I'm experiencing my first day at the office. It's been a bit overwhelming meeting everyone- twenty five Ethiopian names to memorize! But everyone is very kind and welcoming. Soon I will have a meeting with Ato Bantirgu (the Country Director) and Ato Biruk (the Program Director) to determine exactly what my role will be in the 10 months while I'm here.

So far I have stuck fairly close to home, but I hope to explore more of Addis soon. At the moment I'm terrified of not finding my way back, as there aren't any street signs/house numbers and I have to rely on my taxi driver knowing the landmarks I give him (and so far it hasn't worked!) to return me safe and sound. I will work on my courage! This morning I did make it around the corner to a coffee shop where I watched Amharic music videos while sipping the spectacular espresso, and tried to ignore the funny looks of people passing by.

Goodbye Canada; Hello Ethiopia!

2006-09-05T14:27:00.000-07:00

Only five more days in Toronto before I'm on the plane! I can hardly believe it, after spending 4 years working towards this point.

I'm madly trying to check the last items off my to do list, accumulating student travel cards, firstaid kits, and traveller's cheques. I must admit that every once in a while there's also a frantic call to my mother!

I'll arrive in Addis Ababa on September 11th, which according to the Ethiopian calender is the start of the New Year. Already I've been invited to three parties by the friendly people in Addis that I've been in touch with! Ethiopia runs on the Julian calender, which has 13 months, unlike our 12 month one. So, when I arrive, we'll be celebrating the start of 1999. Hopefully there will be an interesting lead up to the Ethiopian Millennium while I'm there. I've already had a look at the site Ethiopian Millennium for an introduction.

This will be my last predeparture post from Toronto- next time I speak to you will be from Addis!

Kate

Impending Africa

2006-08-28T07:56:00.000-07:00

Four months ago I found out I was going to Africa. I was ecstatic, but in an abstract kind of way. Today, two weeks before my September departure, the feelings are far less cerebral: I feel excitement and anxiety in my belly and at the ends of my toes.

My name is Kate and I’m a student in International Development at the University of Toronto. I’m about to spend 10 months as an intern with CPAR in Ethiopia. While I’m still completely unsure about what life in Africa will be like, I do know a bit about what I’ll be doing while I’m there. My focus will be on two programs, CPAR’s Moving Beyond Hunger program, and CAPAIDS Safe Livelihoods for Older Orphan’s project. I’ll help primarily with reporting and monitoring for these two projects. As well, I’ve been asked to spend time visiting communities and collecting stories and photos of people are participating in CPAR’s projects.

So here is a brief introduction to the adventure that I am about to embark on (epic, if only for me). I will be recording the highs and lows and in betweens of my time abroad here, and you’re welcome to stop by for an update!

Kate