Out of Ethiopia

I have been back in the US for nine months now. Adjusting to being here has been an ongoing process in experiencing reverse culture shock. In postponing writing this, I’ve had nine months to reflect, to witness a divided US face a new civil rights movement and a contested election, and now, to see Ethiopia on the brink of an epic humanitarian crisis—repeating a conflict that seems to have no end.

 When I decided to join Peace Corps I knew that I wasn’t going to change the world. I talked to people who had served about their experience and many told me that they gained more from Peace Corps than they gave. This felt true to me as well, I had very little to give to a community and country that gave me so much.

I think back to the night before I left Washington DC for Ethiopia, I was walking back to the hotel. It was one of those perfect verge-of-summer evenings. I passed by a well-off neighborhood—white picket fences. I saw a house with a glassed in terrace, the table was set for dinner, a group of people were sitting down. I stopped on the sidewalk and watched. Laughter spilled out and I could almost hear the glasses of wine clinking. The sun was setting. Everything felt so beautiful and sad at the same time. I wanted to hold on a bit longer, feeling a sense of homesickness when I hadn’t even left. Yearning for something I wasn’t yet missing, but knew that I would be. A part of me longed to be invited in, to share in their joy before embarking into the unknown. I still feel this nostalgic lingering for this sense of comfort, now amplified by the pandemic, and in some ways longing for a time that feels was only in the past but hoping it will be in the future.

I find myself trying to hold onto the words I know in Amharic and Tigringa, and even the small amount of Gurgigna I learned. I say the words out loud to myself like a prayer. Saying the words makes me feel connected to Ethiopia even though it’s far away and I can already sense my memory for certain words is fading.

 It’s hard to find the words to describe what my time was like in Ethiopia and how it feels to be back. Sometimes I find myself thinking of a moment; walking down a dirt road, sipping coffee in the early morning light and I wonder if it really happened. Was that real? Did I really do that? Some days when I’m waking up or drifting off to sleep one of these images will come to me and it will either bring me a bit of joy and comfort, to know all that I experienced, or it will bring me a sense of grief and loss, to know all that I am missing.

 I’m so thankful for the time I had in Ethiopia. I have been so humbled by the people I met.  I have learned so much about what it means to be generous, to be kind, to be patient, to be grateful.

 Thank you, Ethiopia.

Yekeniyelay

Ameseginalehu