On Saint Mary’s Day I found myself being driven around the muddy town
in the ambulance, going house to house of co-workers to eat kidney beans in mitmita,
a spicy powder, and to drink suwa, the local home-brewed beer. Holidays
in Tigray are something else, and although definitely not what I expected for
my Peace Corps experience it is quickly becoming my favorite.
Ethiopians are
some of the most hospitable people I have met; evenly matched for the
incredible welcome I had when I lived in Jordan. Even if they have only a bit
of injera to eat, people will happily share it with their guests. When there is
a christening or wedding, a family will pull out all of the stops for their
celebration. S’iga, the goat or beef stew, and injera are prepared in
huge quantities for guests. Suwa is brought in jerry can after jerry can. An
entire neighborhood will sit on benches in the family’s compound eating, with
the women of the family bringing around more injera and s’iga to eat, insisting
you have more; and the men doing the same with the suwa. Everyone eats and
chats, and it is an excellent time. Nearly every week I have been here there
has either been a holiday or celebration, so I have had a surplus of s’iga in
May.
One of the
biggest government holidays happened recently: Ginibot Isira, May 20th
((May 28th in the Gregorian calendar)), the celebration of the
Downfall of the Dirge. The Tigrawa were instrumental in the defeat of the Dirge
regime, so the holiday is a big deal here. The Health Office and Health Center
employees, plus some of the neighboring health centers and local officials, met
in the concrete shell of the new hospital that is being built for a
celebration. As expected there were tons of s’iga and injera to eat. Clearly
the organizers of the event wanted to impress because instead of suwa
throughout the night there was a constant influx of crates of beer.
After everyone
had been drinking and eating for a while the, music went on and nearly everyone
was dancing in the traditional way. People move in a circle and kind of pop and
lock their shoulders and chests. I would highly suggest youtube-ing it to get
an idea of what it looks like. I constantly begged off, and people let me, but
I got the message that I would not have the same luck next year.
Next came the
speeches. Supervisors and different employees spoke about what had been
accomplished in the previous year and what would be accomplished in the next
year. Ginibot Isira is all about success and winning so everyone related their
speeches back to the same spirit. Then there were awards for those who had done
particularly well that year. And then came the bidding.
It’s hard to
describe what happened next. To pay for all of the festivities people offer
either certain amounts of birr, or injera, or crates of beer to be paid for. At
this point everyone has had more than a few to drink, and end up trying to top
how much the last person gave. To me this seems like a great way to fundraise,
but I get the feeling that it would not work in the US for a whole variety of
legal reasons. But let me tell you, it works well here!
I always leave
these events feeling like I have taken another few steps to integrating or
showing that I am a part of this office and this team. Even if I only have a
token sip of siwa, people seem to understand that the ferengi will just do
things different, and seem to be mollified when I tell them it’s very good, and
that I just do not want a himam rissi, or sick head. My female coworkers do a lot of sticking up
for me in these situations too, once even telling off a drunk guy to leave me
alone. I must be doing something right if I have already acquired some
wing-women.
When I left the event, being escorted back by my liaison so I would not be eaten by a hyena, I could see Venus and Mars shining in what I think of as the winter sky. The next day I would be turning 23. In two days my niece was due to arrive. All of these things will be dates I look back on in my life when I remember Ethiopia. Isn’t that a trip?
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