Swear in was over two weeks ago… and it’s taken me about that long to collect my thoughts. I’ve been at my site since then, working on making my house a home and finding my way about my new community. As exhausting as PST’s strict schedule could be, the unstructured days I have now can be just as exhausting… but I make it a point to do one thing that scares me every day. Whether that be having a buna ceremony at someone’s house to going to the market with my new 8th grade best friend, I push every day.

PST Reflections

Since arriving in Ethiopia, I wanted to write at least one meaningful post a week. But over the past three months, that was fairly difficult for me to keep up with the strict PST schedule that had us booked all day, every day.

While researching the Peace Corps and reading current volunteers’ blogs, one thing I never managed to catch was the fact that despite the ten weeks of PST being a seemingly short time over the course of one’s service, it’s actually pretty difficult. I’m sure people told me, but when everything is still “sunshine and rainbows” in your mind, it’s hard to imagine that a mere ten weeks will be difficult. Future trainees take note: It will be difficult. But on the flipside, PST was really amazing… having been on my own for the better part of two weeks now, I’m immensely grateful for my host family who took me in and showed me the ropes of living in Ethiopia, for the LCFs who taught us language and culture and for being around other fareng every day.

Addis Days

Upon arrival in Addis, we played “Jeopardy” over the PCV Handbook we’d been given the previous Saturday. The trainees were split into the four areas that volunteers are placed: Amhara, Tigray, Jima and Bale. It was a tense showdown, but in the end, Team Amhara rocked it and won a box of candy (plus bragging rights).

The following day was the (in)famous “Addis Day,” where we were finally released into Addis Ababa to learn our way around and taking line taxis to various destinations. It’s also a time to do any shopping we may have wanted before heading to site, but since I fly through Bahir Dar—another large city—to get to my site, I picked up an electric water kettle and not much else. We also got to visit the Peace Corps office for the first time, which was pretty exciting to get to go inside.

It’s Official

Swear in took place two weeks ago, on a sunny Friday afternoon in mid-December at the US Embassy in Addis Ababa. Three trainees gave speeches in one of the languages the 52 of us learned—Amharic, Afan Oromo and Tigrinia—before the ambassador gave us the oath that changed us from trainees into Peace Corps volunteers.

There is something incredible about joining the thousands of men and women who have taken the same oath over the past 51 years. That moment made our commitment seem so much bigger than just ourselves… this long, rich history of volunteers all over the world, working and living with the people we strive to serve.

Currently I’m sitting on the floor in my main room, lit by a single flickering light bulb, listening to the rain pound on the metal rooftop and the compound kitten crying at my window because she doesn’t like the rain. I just finished making a farengi-fied tagabino (what happens when the spice shop is out of berbere? Use taco seasoning!). As the first meal I’ve cooked in country all on my own, I have to say, it’s pretty darn good. My ceiling leaks in two places, but I just repurposed a couple buckets to catch the water.

My home is a cinderblock two room with concrete floors. Everything is gray. Until yesterday, I had no furniture. My foam mattress sat on a mat on the floor… now it has a simple frame. I now have four small (beautiful) stools which alternate between seats, desk and couch. Everything else just sits on the concrete. I have my electric stove and electric kettle set up in one corner of the main room and all of my kitchen utensils are either stacked on a box or on the floor. Currently I have four sini (small coffee cups), two glasses, a mug, a French press, a couple nice knives, a spatula, a corkscrew, a peeler and a wooden utensil set…. plus two plastic plates, a pot and a pan. I also currently have four eggs sitting in the pan and a bag full of vegetables sitting next to my stove. My boxed American food is stacked up next to my empty water bottles, waiting to be filled with milk or oil. My water filter is perched precariously on an empty USPS box that looks ready to collapse at any moment.

My small books are stacked up on one of the window sills and the larger books and magazines are in a corner, just begging to be put up on a shelf. This week at the market in my town, I purchased two natalas—traditional Ethiopian wraps—in a nice greyish-blue color that currently act as my window coverings. My landlady laughed and told me that natalas are for wearing, not curtains. All three windows in my house are humongous, over two meters wide, and curtains are a hopefully not-too-distant future purchase. Until Wednesday, the only place for me to sit was either on the concrete floor or on my mattress. I did both indiscriminately.

And as I sit here, I feel so completely happy, at home and at peace.

I really couldn’t have asked for a a better place to be right now than here in Ethiopia, in this town full of amazingly kind people. Between the habesha who have adopted me as a friend, to the nearby PCVs who make up my Peace Corps family, this really is my home now.