On Culture Shock

I cannot decide if people think of me as a famous celebrity or a strange beast. Being a blonde American girl in a rural part of Ethiopia makes you feel like either, or both, any time you leave your house and occasionally when you're still there. Whenever I walk down the street children and men of all ages call out my name. The children I'll say hello to, but with the men I know better and always ignore. It gives me a sudden sympathy for celebrities in the US, where everyone knows all the details of their lives and do not hesitate to take pictures of them when they are unawares. Every so often when I do not pay attention to the constant and unceasing cries of "Betty Betty!" I get rocks thrown at me, giving more credence to the beast theory.

People keep asking me if I have "culture shock." I think its more appropriate to say that everyone else here has culture shock about me. People constantly exclaim that my life must be very hard here and that I must be very strong. When I try to explain that it's no trouble, that I wash my own clothes and cook my own food, they cannot believe me. Once I showed my neighbor my knitting and she was inordinately proud that I did not use a machine to do it.  It almost felt like someone saw me tie my shoes and were congratulating me on graduating from Velcro as a 23 year old. Often times people ask me the same questions over and over again, as if my answer might change to whatever they expect me to say. The opposite can happen when I talk about America. When I try to explain student loan debt and the lack of jobs for young Americans peoples eyes glaze over and talk as if I had not said a thing. America is a beacon of wealth and success here and trying to show where the shining city is dim does not work. I cannot even convince people that WWF wrestling is only acting. Their love of John Ceena runs too deep.

My favorite thing about Ethiopians is just how hospitable people are. I am a Jersey girl, born and bread, and for most of my life I elbowed my way through. Here I cannot even stand for more than a minute without someone getting me a chair, or asking me if I am comfortable. People ask over and over again how I am, how my health is, if "there is peace," and all of these questions are asked with genuine honesty. I do not quite know what to do with all of the help. I can never remember to keep asking the same kind questions back, and that is just one of the many ways that I cannot seem to get the "code" of politeness that exists here. Luckily my status as famous celebrity//strange beast saves me from offending too many people.  I also try to complement Ethiopia as much as possible, showing I must have learned some manners at least. It seems to smooth things over well enough.

Every day I encounter something new, something strange, something I do not understand. But I also encounter many more things that touch on my life back home. Americans and Ethiopians alike have the same cultural dependence on coffee. Here coffee is touted as a cure for headaches, even though its much more likely that the coffee is causing them, but it sounds like something my mother would chide me about it. People never stop asking me eat or drink more, even when I insist I am about to explode. I can see stooped over grandmothers in all of them, telling me that I've gotten too thin, you're wasting away in front of me, you are a growing girl and you need to eat, and don't you like my lasagna I made it just for you but I can make something else if you're still hungry what about ravioli do you like rav-

Most importantly, every day I learn something. Whether its the correct way to dispose of my toilet paper ((burning it)), that when you buy a bottle of Mirinda it's only the liquid inside you're buying ((the bottles go right back to the shop, post haste!)), the correct word for flour ((after the shop owner measures out a kilo of rice, which I don't have the heart to correct and end up buying anyway)), or just how helpful everyone is ((people dropping their work to help me finish mine)). Usually I learn all of these things in hilarious and terribly embarrassing situations. If anyone felt that my ego needed to be brought down a notch in America do not fear! I think my ego was at one point dropped into a hospital shint bet during a particularly shameful trip to the doctor and it has not made an appearance since.