Adventure in Ethiopia

Sorry that this is late....as in, I was in Ethiopia in May 2005, and now I'm just getting around to posting about it 6 months later, although I'm backdating so things will make sense chronolgically. Even this entry will not be complete until I find my emails from the later part of the trip which will serve as my "journal" entries for those days. Thanks for the patience :)

Saturday, May 21, 2005

My trip to Ethiopia was relatively uneventful. The flight to Frankfurt from Atlanta was packed, and I was stuck in the middle of a four-person aisle. Not too happy about that, but amazingly, I was able to sleep some. The neck pillow really helped too, b/c I wasn’t stiff or anything. I also didn’t need to get up as much as I usually do when going to Joburg from Atlanta. Of course, we didn’t have our own individual entertainment choices either like on South African Air. Lufthansa makes everyone in cattle car class watch the same thing. The food wasn’t half bad, which was a pleasant surprise.

The layover in Frankfurt sucked. After I had hopped on an internet kiosk to let everyone know that I was OK, there was nothing to do. The keyboard on the kiosk was odd, too. It wasn’t your traditional American keyboard, and the letters were not where I’m used to having them, so I had to hunt/peck. At least I was able to contact home, though, which was nice. There was a wifi zone in the airport, but it had been so long since I used the laptop from work that I couldn’t do anything due to low battery power. I mostly read my magazines that I brought and had a nice chef salad at one of the restaurants before it was time for me to get on the flight to Addis Ababa.

Traveling with Tove made it much easier. At least I knew someone on the flight, and a friend of hers who works in GAP was coming to Addis as well for an AIDS conference. The other CDC people found us, and we all got introduced. Two of our team were STOPpers from Ethiopia last summer, and another guy is in a different division. I am not sure if he is a STOP alum or not. I was definitely the green horn of the group. Even Tove spent two months here in the winter doing a research project in the field.

The flight to Addis was comfortable, especially since the plane was not full. A guy who was seated next to me moved when we took off to give us more room. That was a Godsend as I was able to somewhat stretch out and snooze most of the way. My first view of Addis from the air was nice…I didn’t realize what a large city it was. Certainly more cosmopolitan looking than Harare. When we landed, there was a big line for immigration, but I had no problems.

Will Schluter was there to greet us, which was nice. In the parking lot, he finally gave us our orders. We were to spend one night in Addis at the Hilton and then immediately head to the field. Each of us was going to a totally different part of the country. This is very much an independent worker sort of assignment. Of course, I managed to keep my full blown fear down about having never monitored anything before. Let alone being sent into the field by myself and expected to perform. The thought that came to mind was “sink or swim” and I’ll be damned if I’ll be sent to Africa and fail miserably. I may not be stellar, but I can at least do a decent job so that people don’t talk bad about me. Anyway, I’m being sent to this place called Dessie, which used to be a provincial capital when Ethiopia was a monarchy. It’s north of Addis, and while it doesn’t look far on the map, it takes about 10 hours to drive there. There is no flight service.

The Hilton was nice, although there was no air conditioning. I had to open the patio to get some cooler air in. It’s really not that hot in Addis right now. It’s about 10 degrees cooler than Atlanta I’d say. I took a nice shower, since I’m not sure when I’ll see another nice shower. I did discover that my Purell hand sanitizer and one of my squeeze bottles of shampoo busted in the suitcase. I was not happy. I did manage to clean it all out, along with a string of curse words 

Turns out that no one made a reservation for us upon our return to Addis. We are supposed to be back next Tuesday, the 31st. I’m pretty sure we leave on the 1st, although we were talking like we’d be here through next Thursday night. I know that’s not right though. I’ll have to tell Will so he can plan. I may need to leave Sunday to start back to Addis if we need all this time to prepare our reports. It doesn’t sound like Will needs much from us in a report, just summarizing our findings in the monitoring. They have given us checklists of things to check to make sure the campaign is running smoothly. We also have “rapid convenience surveys” which is meant to show how effective the vaccinators were getting children vaccinated. That is the tough part, b/c you have to go house to house. I’m supposed to have a native Ethiopian to go with me to translate. They better have someone, or I don’t see how I can possibly do the surveys. I don’t speak a lick of Armharic, which is a language similar to Hebrew and Arabic…but different.

Anyway, my contact has traveled with me, so that’s been nice. He speaks English, and he seems like a great guy. He bought me dinner tonight. Granted, dinner was only $5 for both us…including two beers! The hotel room tonight is kind of sketchy, but one of the best in this village of Debre Berhan. It’s called Girma hotel and was in Lonely Planet. It reminds me of an old wild west town where no streets are paved (except the main one) and animals and people are just all over the place.

That’s another funny thing about Ethiopia – all the animals roam freely. Today I have seen cows, horses, donkeys galore (does this mean they’re Democrats at heart? ), goats, and dogs roaming freely. Sometimes they belong to a person, and other times, there does not seem to be an owner. They just graze. And walk in the street, along with people. There are few cars here, and there do not seem to be rules of the road. They do drive on the “right” side of the street, but that’s all. If you don’t like how someone is driving, you just honk and go around. Same with people…you honk, and they either get out of the way, or they don’t. It’s very chaotic in many ways, but it works somehow.

The countryside is beautiful as we head to North Ethiopia. Rolling hills, mountains, and green farmland abound. In many ways it reminds me of Southwest VA, except the soil isn’t nearly as rocky in VA as it is here.

We are leaving at 6am to head to Dessie, which is damn early, but it’s only 8pm now, and we’re in for the night. With only a single light and no TV, I imagine I’ll soon be asleep. I snoozed in the car on the way up here, and took a 2 hour nap this afternoon, but I am still tired. I think it’s the altitude. We’re pretty high up, over a mile at this point. The only other sign of altitude sickness I have is a headache and the inability to sleep good even though I’m tired. At least this hotel has a plug that works…the Hilton did not have that. I was supposed to call Will tonight but I don’t have access to a phone. Oh well. I hope they cavalry doesn’t get called out. I’ll ring him as soon as I reach Dessie and get into my hotel there.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

So much to comment on from today, not from events themselves, but from mere observation of the world around me. First, I keep thinking I’m in Afghanistan for a couple of reasons. The area of Ethiopia that I am in is very mountainous, and the drive from Debre Berhan where we stayed last night reminded me very much of the West Virginia Turnpike as we wove in and out of mountains. There is one difference, however, and that is the absence of guardrails. It’s just an OK road skirting along the edge of a mountain with a drop of several hundred to thousand feet just inches away. But again, the Ethiopians have this etiquette worked out that makes it work without disaster, even with big trucks driving on the roads. There is a lot of construction going on too, especially the laying of pipe. It almost looks like sewer pipes, but I’m not certain about that. It could be an irrigation project as well. I saw camels today too. Never seen a live camel before, and that was neat. It’s another peg in the “Am I in Afghanistan?” motif. The other is the dress of the women and men. It’s very Islamic. The men usually have something on their head that looks like a turban. Women wear dresses with elaborate head scarves that allow them to cover their faces. Add to this the language which sounds and LOOKS like Arabic, and it feels like I’m in Afghanistan at times, especially when you see mosques all around.

It wasn’t until today that I started seeing Mosques. We’d drive through these little villages (the people here still live in mud and stick huts for the most part) and there’d be a mosque in the main town and an Orthodox church on a hill above it. The orthodox churches are quite beautiful the way they are set off on top of hills with metal roofing in the middle eastern style. The mosques are not ornate at all, and most had bars on all the windows. The towns look like rundown old west towns from the USA. Except the buildings are all mud and stick based. I wonder what happens to those structures when the rains come in late June and last for several months. Dogs, cows, horses, camels, donkeys and goats are all roaming free. No one seems to worry about who owns what.

The mountains have been deforested in a major way. I’m not sure how they are dealing with erosion after totally denuding entire mountains of its natural forest. They seem to plant bamboo in its place, but the woods lost seem to be evergreen from the little I could see. There’s a lot of green farmland that doesn’t seem to be in use, but that could be because we are at the end of the dry season. There are no fences or other signs of demarcation that would indicate ownership. I wonder if farmland is collective or not. The riverbeds are almost completely dry, and what little water is present is muddy. I saw women washing clothes and children playing in the muddy waters. It reminded me that is how polio spreads.

Speaking of polio, I haven’t seen anything that could remotely look like advertisements for the coming campaign. It starts tomorrow, but I don’t see any billboards like I have for female education and vaccination of mothers (it was a shot in the picture, so I know it wasn’t polio).

It took forever to get up to Dessie today. We left at 6am sharp, and drove for a couple of hours before stopping for breakfast. I had what can best be described as an egg pancake that they called an omelet. Dr. Tikrey had this dish that is popular among natives but that foreigners generally don’t like. It’s b/c the dish is made of minced organs from animals….heart, liver, intestines,stomach, etc. They eat it with this gray, rubbery bread looking thing that tastes like vinegar. I tried the mixed organ stuff and it wasn’t bad, but I didn’t eat but one bite b/c I’m not sure how safe it is. It was cooked, but you can get some funky stuff if you eat something like that which isn’t cooked properly. Breakfast was my first experience with flies. They were all over the place. The village we ate in was in a valley, so it was hot too. I will definitely remember to apply bug spray from now on. We’re still pretty high up, just out of malaria range I think. I am still taking my doxycycline as a preventative though. Malaria is not a disease I want to catch.

The hotel in Dessie is in a somewhat sketchy neighborhood, but is closed in. I can see why the US Embassy wanted me to stay here  The room is comfortable and clean. The bathroom is freshly tiled, and the toilet works. There’s hot water, a TV (with two channels – one being Ethiopia TV and the other being channel 33 from Bahrain which is broadcast in English), and a phone, although I can’t seem to call out. I took a shower tonight and never ran out of water. There was even water pressure, so I’m pleased at this juncture. I didn’t bathe last night b/c the bathroom was kind of nasty, and I’d only ridden in the car. But tonight, the water coming off me in the shower was FILTHY. I didn’t realize you could get so dirty in two days. I shaved as well, so I feel normal again. The bed is still firm, as it was last night. I was half expecting straw beds from what I read before I got here. I still won’t get under the covers for fear of bed bugs. I also have my own pillowcase that I put over the pillow to sleep. I’m also using my new “warm weather” sleeping bad as well. Hotels seem to like to use these sateen covers which is funny. It comes across as tacky, but I know it’s meant as a measure of class. I understand that the Fasika where I am at is considered the best hotel in Dossie. It’s probably slightly less than Motel 6 quality, and it certainly ain’t a Marriot. However, it will do. Things could be much, much worse from the other “hotels” I’ve seen along the road. One strange feature I need to remark on: the unopened bottle of gin oon a tablein my room. How funny. Although alcohol and soda are the only safe things to drink around here.

I went to bed as soon as we got here around 12:30pm. I slept for nearly 5 hours. I needed it though. I think that may have been the last of the jet lag and the altitude sickness. My headaches are less today, and I only had to take Tylenol at the beginning and end of the day.

At 6pm, I met Dr. Ibriham who is the surveillance officer for this area, and will be the one I’m working with the most I think. He seems like a very nice man. He got me to a Telecenter where I was able to make a phone call to Will finally so that I could check in. He mildly scolded me for not calling last night, but I wasn’t going to wait in a 10 person line at the only phone in town last night. But he ran through questions about how the room was, how was the drive and driver, etc. If I can, I may check in with him later in the week when the campaign is in full swing. It may be easier to email him than call him, oddly enough. They should allow us to rent international cell phones when we are on assignment overseas, but as of yet, that’s not something we’re exactly allowed to do. It’s also not easy to rent phones overseas as it is in the USA. Even a prepaid card would be helpful.

I ate at this restaurant called the Rodeo. They had hay scattered on the stairwell, which I found to be really funny. I had rice with egg, which was fine, but kind of plain. I put the special Ethiopian powder that puts a kick in all the food here, and that helped. A little of that stuff goes a long way, let me tell you! After dinner, I went back to the telecenter to get on the internet, which was pretty cheap. Everything around here is pretty cheap. The hotel room last night cost 40 birr, which is about $5. My hotel room now may be about $10 a night. Not sure exactly, but I think I brought too much money with me, so it’s not an issue for me. Better to have too much than too little, I say!

The city of Dessie is an odd city. It really does look like that it has been in a war recently, with buildings bombed out on the upper levels, but not the lower…or one building all hollowed out with the building next to it fine. I can’t make sense of it. The people in the street with the few cares are fun too. They really don’t worry about getting hit at all. Everything is really very dirty, which I don’t like, but have accepted.

This brings to me another observation which I find hugely ironic. Homosexuality is NOT accepted here at all. You can get 10 yrs in prison for being gay, and you will be refused service at a hotel or restaurant if they think you are gay. Given that, however, you still see men strolling down the street holding hands, arms entwined just like they were boyfriends. Apparently, this is normal for good friends in Ethiopia. Men and women will not behave this way, but men will stroll down the street arm in arm, hands entwined. It’s ironic how things work out.

There is a major mosque two blocks from my hotel. When they say Muslims pray 5 times a day, they mean it. And there are huge loud speakers to let you know when you need to pray. It interrupted my nap and is very loud. Of course, I have no idea what was being said, but hopefully they will urge mothers to vaccinate their children. I’m wondering if I’m in an Islamic area of Ethiopia. There is a church somewhere in town too, but it’s not near my hotel.


Monday, May 23, 2005

I had to take a time out before I made this entry. My frustration has grown throughout the day slowly and just about exploded when I couldn’t get any hot water for a shower tonight. Although, for those who have witnessed my explosions when my fuse has burnt to its nub, I was remarkably calm. Maybe I’m growing up now that I’m less than two weeks from turning 30.  Anyway, I let out a string of expletives through clinched teeth, and managed to wash my hair and the “essentials” in cold water. I washed the rest with the waterless bathing wipes that I brought from home just in case something like this happened. I don’t know what happened to the hot water that I enjoyed so well yesterday, but it was not cooperating tonight. For those who have read my journal from Zimbabwe, you know that when I can’t get a good shower, I get really cranky. I didn’t want to write an entry with that frame of mind, so I brought out my DVDs (tonight they were showing Eritrea TV instead of Bahrain TV, and Eritrea doesn’t broadcast in English) and watched Elizabeth. I love that movie! Very historical, dramatic, and humanizes a person who is viewed as a distant icon from the past. Now that the movie is over, I’m in a better mood to write an entry.

I was awakened at 4 FREAKING 30 in the MORNING by the call of that damn mosque two blocks away. You’d think Muslims could figure out when they needed to pray. I wasn’t aware that Mohammad apparently set prescribed times for facing Mecca. It was obnoxious. But I rolled over and went back to sleep until I had to get up. At 8am, I was picked up and my driver asked if I wanted breakfast. Considering I only had a power bar, I did, even though it made us 10 minutes late for the regional health office.

They were in a meeting when I got there, which I wasn’t intended to sit in anyway since it was being conducted in Amharic. So I got to sit in Dr. Teklay’s office and read. Thank God I brought plenty of books. I’ve already finished one, and I’m well into my second. But I came prepared. I felt a little bad for my driver since he had nothing to read, and his English isn’t good enough to conduct a real conservation.

Which brings me to the matter of language barriers. I do not know a lick of Amharic, and I don’t even know or understand the written script as they don’t use the alphabet. I got to sit in the meeting with the regional health director who was being briefed on the plans for the campaign. This meeting was also in Amharic, and I understood none of it. Oh, I caught some words, like “polio”, “AFP”, “social mobilization”. The guy who did most of the talking was sitting next to me and had the most foul breath. That was all I could think about, along with hoping I didn’t look as clueless as I felt.

I discovered that I had been assigned three woredas (health districts) north of town which are considered “easy”. Thank goodness for that! Still, I will need to go about 60 km from town each day and come back. I still had no idea what it was they wanted me to do, other than fill out these forms that I had been given. We stopped at the HQ of each woreda and met with the head honcho at each. Well, one was not there when we called, so we’ll have to catch him later. But the first guy, I didn’t catch on that I needed to “evaluate” him until about a minute into the conversation. So I brought out my checklist and asked the questions. Of course, his answers are pretty worthless. Where the rubber hits the road is with the vaccination teams themselves. But I did my thing, hoping I wasn’t coming across as some idiot to the guy who was assigned to go around with me as my counterpart and native speaker.

Not knowing the language makes me feel stupid. I can’t even figure it out from context or by reading it because it’s not a romance language and doesn’t use an alphabet. I was sent here never having monitored a campaign in my life, and I was promptly sent off ALONE to figure it out. I thought I would have someone to show me the ropes, but no such luck. I guess it’s a compliment that they felt I could handle it, but it’s frustrating and scary. I don’t want to embarrass myself or the CDC, but I’m no expert here. I’m running blind.

I was taken to the regional cold chain facility, and it was opened for inspection. I went into the freezer, and yep, it was cold. I looked at the vaccines they keep, and I saw DTP, measles, and others. Looked good to me, but I’ll be damned if I could catch something being wrong. I don’t even know what temperature the fridge is supposed to be at! I did note cracks in the walls of the building, and took pictures. I figured that was all I could do, besides say it looked good to me.

We drove many miles today on dirt roads, poorly kept roads, and all of it through some of the prettiest scenery you can imagine. Huge, dramatic mountains and equally gorgeous and dramatic valleys. All green and just breathtaking. I enjoyed it a lot. This is such a pretty country. It’s a shame that it’s one of the world’s poorest. The children even beg whenever they see me. They yell something that sounds like “you! You!” and then put out their hand and say “money”. At least that is what it sounds like. Not all children do this, but a vast majority do. This country is the only one in Africa that was never a colony of a European power. Italy briefly occupied it in WWII, but they were booted out by the end of that war. I think there is a difference in attitude from that history of independence, but not a difference in outcome unfortunately. Like the rest of Africa, Ethiopia is largely agricultural and rural. They don’t have commercial farms here, though, and I still find little evidence of land demarcation for ownership establishment. I did see some animals tied to property today, which was a first. I also saw how they kept horses from running away…they tie the head to the front leg so that the horse can’t run. Breaks my heart to see it, but I saw a couple of sheep tied the same way. The people seem to largely exist on subsistence farming, goat/cattle herding (they don’t have herding dogs here, but boy could they use them!!!), and little else. I see people wearing rags and bathing in dirty creek water. The houses make the worst American ghetto look like a million bucks. I saw people living in half collapsed homes, b/c they couldn’t fix them. The poverty is breathtaking, but there is also a dignity of the people. They are open, friendly, and proud. Not in a bad way either. I’ve noticed too that Ethiopians don’t try to impress you with titles, degrees, or anything else. They have a self-confidence in their own abilities that just expects you to treat them at least as equals and hopefully with the same respect they treat you. Perhaps that is the fruit of never having been colonized or enslaved.

After running around to meet the honchos, we finally found some actual vaccination teams. They are in teams of two, one man and one woman usually. They have tally sheets, vaccine carriers with vaccine vials and ice, and chalk to mark houses they have visited. Some of the teams have not been taught what is the proper way to mark a house. But they have excellent written plans and maps of what they are going to do each day. Another woreda didn’t have maps, but they sure knew how to mark. So there’s a little of the good and bad. Some of the expectations for a perfect campaign are unrealistic, especially in some of the circumstances in which we find ourselves in my assigned woredas. These areas are largely rural and very mountainous. The population can be very isolated and hard to reach. Constant communication absent satellite phones or really powerful walkie-talkies is not possible. My counterpart was excellent at spotting vaccination teams on our way back to Dessie. We’d stop in the road with our yellow jerseys on for the campaign (they weren’t handed out for today, but should be for the rest of the week) and question them, look at the tally sheets, and their vial carriers. One team was doing it all wrong. They opened TWO vials at once (only supposed to do one at a time to reduce wastage) and they were letting them float in cold water from melted ice. They are supposed to be kept dry in a plastic bag, b/c it can corrupt the vaccine. But most did a pretty decent job. I was exciting to see how many kids were vaccinated today, and to see markings on homes showing they had been visited. I’m realizing how much of a job it will be to do these rapid convenience surveys….I have to do 9 korbeles (subdistricts) across my three woredas. Each korbele requires visiting 10 homes, or every 5th home to see if vaccinators visited the people they said they visited.

My counterpart wants to leave at 7am, meeting here at my hotel. Lucky me. Then I got a note later saying that I should come to the Dessie regional office at 8:30pm to get some ice. Apparently, there’s not enough ice in the cold chain facilities. My counterpart probably won’t be happy, but he can take it up with the regional director. I was able to email today, but the connection was slow and kept disconnecting. I will not use that particular computer again. Another source of frustration. I was operating at a 56K modem, which is like molasses in winter when you’re used to DSL. I did get a note off to my mom and others letting them know I was OK.

I will be glad to get back to where native English speakers are…or at least fluent speakers. I’m not cut out for this intensive field work. I don’t know how people like Alice Pope do it. She spends all her time in the field doing the sorts of things I’m doing now. She loves it. I’d rather be running the program, finding and providing resources, and looking at things from a higher level. That’s where my forte is, but I suppose you have to experience this drudgery before you get to do other, more interesting things.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

I still had to get up at 6:30am to be ready by 7am, even though my note pushed back the start time to 8:30am. Got to have a leisurely breakfast, almost too leisurely. Everyone had to drive to Kombolcha which is about 30 minutes south of Dessie to a meat warehouse to get extra ice. Then we delivered the ice. Of course, that took forever, and then we started a journey into depths of Nowhere. The road became dirt, then mud thanks to a storm overnight. We drove and drove, and saw fewer people. Eventually, we ended up a very rural clinic where we had a checklist visit followed by rapid convenience survey. Talk about a misnomer! It was neither rapid nor convenient. I don’t know why I was there, b/c I didn’t understand a word and only copied the answers my counterpart wrote down. If he was lying to me, I’d never know.
After visiting that rural outpost, we headed back to the HQ of this rural district. I certainly hope it’s the last we’ve seen of that district, but I get the creepy feeling it is not. The first guy was nice when we told him that they were marking the houses all wrong. When we got to the HQ of the woreda (still in the sticks, but not as bad as this other place), he became indignant. He also told us things that were directly opposite what we’d seen with our own eyes. He then led us by the nose around the town to do another rapid convenience survey. He told us which houses to talk to and then proceeded to intimidate the residents to give answers he wanted. Our questions aren’t complicated. We ask if the vaccination team visited, we look at the mark they left on the house, ask the mom how many kids under 5 live there, if they are vaccinated, and then ask if they were marked by the team as having received vaccine. No one was, b/c no one in any of the three woredas that I’m working in have the ink. One guy tried to explain, but I didn’t catch the explanation. I may ask again tomorrow. I don’t think it’s a huge deal, but you never know.

The little kids in the villages I visited were all amazed to see a white person. I could tell they had never seen one before. They’d gather, stare, and whisper and giggle. If I’d smile, they’d smile and wave. Some would talk, asking me my name. Others thought it was way cool that I shook hands with them. The older kids have obviously seen white people or have been introduced to white folks, b/c they are the ones that yell “MONEY” at me over and over. At first it was cute, but today, it got on my nerves. While waiting for a bus in front of us to get out of the mud and clear the road, I asked one girl if that was the only English word she knew. She looked puzzled, so I repeated. At this, her friend whispered with her for a minute and then asked my name. That was more like it. I was “this close” to telling her that yelling “money” at someone is rude. First, not all white people are rich. (OK, I know, compared to them, every white person I know would be rich…but still, there’s principle here!) Second, even if they were, it’s not polite to label people like that based on their skin color. I think my eyes fascinated older women. I caught several women who were with mothers staring at my eyes (the eye contact was undeniable) and then whispering to other women in the house. I guess blue eyes is a strange occurrence. I can only imagine what Tove, the white blond blue eyed girl that she is, is experiencing in villages.

I discovered that it’s not just mud on those huts providing insulation. It’s largely poop, and lots of it. They use horse, cow, and donkey poop mixed with mud and straw to form some sort of cement like substance and apply it to the house. I thought I’d vomit thinking about a house encased in poop. No electricity, no running water, mud and dirt everywhere….my heart breaks for the conditions here. I know they are happy for the most part, at least they seem so. The kids are fed and clothed for the most part. They all have shoes, and they’re curious. Some of the girls too have the nicest dresses, even in the most rural areas. For every person you see in rags, you see someone else in something pretty nice that they obviously take care of.

I’m getting my Africa tan…which is to say my forearms and face are getting sun while nothing else is. It was funny, b/c my Dr. Tiklay asked me at the warehouse this morning what was wrong with my arm because it was red. I told him that it burned a little yesterday, but I had on sunscreen today, and it would be fine. He thought it was awful that I’d burn every time I come to Africa. I thought it was really cute of him to be so horrified. For me, it wasn’t a big deal at all.

I think the raining season may be trying to arrive early. First, we had some rain yesterday afternoon and that awful thunderstorm that sounded like bombs exploding in the middle of the night. Then we had rain off and on all day today. But the sun is never obscured, so with the rain comes rainbows, which is nice. Adds to the beauty of the area. The scenery remains breathtaking. We had some problems on the muddy “roads” if you can call these glorified trails roads. I took some pictures so that people could see what I meant, b/c the description almost defies words. At one point, we slipped in the mud and slid to within a foot of a huge dropoff. No guardrails, remember. But my driver acted quickly, and we helped push the car out of the mud. Still, my life flashed before my eyes, and I had visions of us tumbling hundreds of feed in this Land Cruiser with me being the only survivor b/c I am the only one who wears seat belts. Luckily, nothing bad happened.

My counterpart had us stop at the woreda HQs to see the tally sheets coming in, even though it was close to 6pm. I played along and ooh’d and ahh’d appropriately. But I was cranky, tired, sweaty, hot, dirty, and just wanted to go home. But I had to eat dinner and then email. The email wasn’t much better tonight. It was slow and kept falling off the connection. But I made it through the important messages and sent out an update. The email is a lifeline for me. Otherwise, I’d be incredibly isolated and lonely. Daniel and the dogs are doing well, and they love Julie too. No surprise there  I’m glad things are going well for them, and it makes me feel so much better to have him looking after things.

I had hot water tonight which was nice. I feel so much better having had a decent shower. BBC News is the channel for tonight. It’s funny how it’s a different one every night. But it’s good to hear English  I think I’ll have to tell Leo that I could realistically only be assigned to Geneva or Copenhagen or some similar post. I need 1st world comforts and culture. I need a place where I won’t be lonely and won’t feel so isolated. I would like Casey’s job, but I know that she’s been abused by her bosses in AFRO and that they are just like that. I don’t want to work that way, especially in Zimbabwe which continues to fall apart and will probably erupt in civil war once Mugabe dies. I don’t want to be living there when that hell breaks loose. Also, my social dating life would die there, outside of the diplomatic community that frequently rotates through. That’s no way to live. If I had someone, it might be different, but I don’t, and I don’t want to be a in a place where there is NO chance of finding someone I would be attracted to. And most importantly, I don’t want to live somewhere that forces me back into the closet and life of fear. I’m past that. I doubt that I’ll be allowed to go to Geneva or Copenhagen, since those posts tend to go to big time epidemiologists and the like. But we’ll see…who knows what my future in CDC will hold.



Thursday, May 26, 2005

Yes, I skipped a day of journaling, so sue me. I was in no mood to journal last night after having a bombshell dropped that I was expected to be ready to go by 6am for today’s festivities. No reason was given for having to get up that damn early, and I still fail to see why we had to do it. The only positive is that we were done by 3:30pm. Still, that was 9.5 hours of drudgery. And I get to do it all again tomorrow! Oh boy, I’m soooo excited. I’m beginning to hate my counterpart and his “early morning” tendencies.

Yesterday was an exhausting day. We had to do several “rapid convenience” surveys which should really be called “dreary inconvenience” surveys. We were back in the rural backwater, trotting through mud and poop asking people about their vaccination experience. With villages widely scattered, we had to drive and drive and drive to visit 30 homes in three different kebeles. I also smacked my head really hard on an overhead bar when I was trying to enter a latrine to pee. I bled a little, and now I have huge knot on top of my head that still hurts. These latrines are nasty. They have an opening in the floor, and that’s it. I don’t know how people take a crap, but they either sit on the floor (I could vomit just thinking of that prospect) or they squat and hope it hits the hole. I’d rather go outside. I can pee, but damn, let’s get indoor plumbing to some folks. After all, at one of the last poop huts I visited for a survey yesterday, it was not only wired for electricity but also had a satellite dish in the back yard. Now how does that make any sense at all? You live in a hut made of wood, sealed with animal shit with dirt floors, but you have electricity and a satellite dish?!?!?!?

My driver keeps listening to the same damn two albums over and over again. I complained about it in my reporting email and Mike wrote back to say I should have brought headphones. Well, I did bring my CD walkman and CDs, but I thought it would be rude to listen to a walkman and isolate myself. But then I started thinking about how they constantly talk in Amharic around me, knowing I can’t understand, and how they’ve drug me all over creation with no explanation and then demanding that I be ready to go by 6am. So I said, “Fuck it” and I packed my walkman and CDs. I listened to them today and felt much better. They didn’t seem to notice.

On top of it all yesterday, I had no hot water again. So it was bathing wipes for me. I also didn’t realize that I had to pack for an entire two weeks with no opportunity for washing clothes. So now I’ve got 6 days left until I can go home and I am running out of clothes. I have no stopper in my bathroom sink so I can’t wash clothes there. People here barely wash clothes as it is, and since I don’t speak the language, I can’t ask if the hotel would do it for a fee. I’d gladly pay, but my first opportunity to have clothes washed will be in Addis. So I get to wear dirty underwear along with already dirty clothes. I’ve been stretching my shirts and pants to 2 and 3 days respectively. Now I’ll have to stretch my underwear, which is just nasty. I’m horrified, but I won’t go commando. *sigh* At least I’m not living in a poop encrusted structure.

Today, we went to a place referred to as “Hell’s Post” which is the most rural of the outposts within my assigned districts. It took forever to get there, and the way to Hell was paved with rocks. I thought I was going to vomit with all the jarring back and forth. It was a miserable ride, but I will say that even in that remote outpost, the health team did an excellent job with their polio campaign, not only reaching every child , but doing it all correctly. I got to have another egg sandwich on the way to Hell for breakfast. I’m so sick of eggs that I can’t stand it. I had a lunch of dry shortbread cookies, just like yesterday with water. Appetizing, isn’t it? Oh, but today, there was a special treat – greasy, homemade potato chips! I know, try not to be jealous. We should be finished the most rural district, and we finished the one right near the city. There’s only one more “rapid convenience” survey left to do in the final district. And my counterpart better not try to get me to do more surveys.

I about lost it today when he had us stop at yet another outpost in the most rural district (on our way back from Hell’s Post) to do another fucking survey. We’d already done the three that we were required to do. I let my displeasure show to the driver, but I’m not sure if my counterpart knew or not. But my counterpart discovered that this “village” was on a mountain and would require climbing almost straight up to find 10 homes randomly. He said it was too difficult and went back to the car. I thought, “Damn right, it’s too difficult. Besides, we’ve DONE our three surveys, asshole.” Thought it, did not say it.

So tomorrow is another 6am day. Lucky me. I just want this over with. I’m tired, dirty, hungry, and over this whole experience. Good thing that the immunized under 5 kids are sweet and the scenery is gorgeous. Otherwise, there would be nothing redeeming about this experience.