Take 2

Only a little worse for wear, I made it out of the walls of the
compound this morning. It's a small victory, I know. To add to that
accomplishment, I think I may even have an idea of what my work will
look like for the next three months: a combination of gathering and
reporting quantitative data, and collecting case studies on impacts in
various project areas...with a couple of extraneous tasks to boot. I
should be busy. I'm glad.

Here's what I wanted to post on June 9:

I was glad to be back at the office today, greeting and catching up
with the people who made last summer comfortable and memorable, and
meeting those who have joined the food security team in the 11 months
since I left. The way that familiarity and newness collide with one
another so regularly here has me feeling a bit off-kilter, like the
way nothing has changed physically about the office – neither the
building, the layout of the desks, the misspelled reminders in the
bathroom ("Pleas splash water and use air freshener when finished.
Tank you.") – but the personnel have shifted departments and titles,
some have left the country, some have married, others are new to the
organization. There were times I was ashamed not to be able to recall
names of those I had met previously and whose faces were sharp in my
memory, and others when I was the one who had been forgotten.

Last night I had the chance to attend my second Ethiopian wedding.
Under circumstances oddly similar to the first time, I found myself
the guest of a guest, and therefore not exactly "invited," yet
welcomed all the same. This was the part of the ceremony in which the
bride is taken from her family home in a caravan of white cars loaded
with brightly colored flowers, which beep and honk their way through
narrow, rocky streets to the groom's home. When the wedding party
arrives, all the guests dance and clap and sing, while the bride and
groom do their utmost to maintain an air of solemnity. The first part
of the evening is dominated by the meal, an extensive spread of
traditional dishes, and the second part by exuberant dancing. We left
just as the dancing began – just fine with me, as I had already been
reminded by the meal that I should probably ease my way back into an
Ethiopian diet…

For those of you already begging for photos, here's what I have to
offer you: My 10-year old "housemate" and I displaying our adopted
national pride.