I kindly request your support

A taste of whats in store for me 

This July I am running the Minnesota Tough Mudder in effort to raise needed funds for my work in rural SW Ethiopia.  I am looking for individuals that would like to run along side me, as well as support via donations or simply sharing my efforts with your own networks.  Anything at all helps, and the more people that are aware of the fundraiser the better.

Please give my page a look and think about assisting at any capacity. Thank ya 

http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/tough-running-for-ethiopian-education/x/3718292#share

Training with a smile along side my moms bear looking dog.  

The post training exhausted look

...

Ethiopia just finished beating themselves out of advancing in the Africa Cup. Poor game planing, silly fouls, maybe even some bad luck.  

It was the their first time even qualifying for the tournament in the last 31 years. All of Ethiopia has been gliding upon a football high, with huge expectations, for their vastly improved national team.  Devastatingly, that positivity has taken a downward trajectory.  Ethiopia has been eliminated, and there are countless habasha asking themselves why?

After watching the heart-wrenching affair, Ethiopia's second red card received by a goalie in the last three games, and the subsequent loss, Im a bit drained for putting together some not-to-trite daily reflections.  Didnt help watching the game with the family and about 20 eager friends.   Izoh (a wonderful word expressing sorrow and empathy to another) to me and the rest of Ethiopia.

That said...

Fundame: Perimeter fence is finished, bathroom holes being dug, land is completely leveled, 120 1 meter post holes are dug, 6 perimeter post have been set and level, the rest start going in tomorrow.

Azedebo; Mud work is finished, with the exception of very small touch ups around windows and doors, all windows and doors have been installed, all masonry foundation is complete, cement work has begun. 

All level,, once the needed wood delivery is made tomorrow we will make fast work of the rest.

Check out that fence line

How we start the first layer of cement process.

How  it finishes up (not the same room).

Lolo was here

Ephraim (Delenge's 8 year old son)  helping me with the days photo recap

Was Chuni's birthday.  Who needs cake when you got biscuits, mirenda and warm bread

Lolo eyeing up potential belly fillers 

Melcom Gena ( Merry Ethiopian Xmas)

!WARNING!

Not for the squeamish. And for those that get upset by the death of animals, even live-stock, just remember the context.  This entry captures an important chunk of Ethiopian culture; the slaughter and consumption of an animal to celebrate a religious holiday of great significance. 

Today’s Sunday, my day off, so I sleep in ‘til the church music starts blaring at 7:15.  During the last 8 weeks, I have grown accustomed to the long drone of Pentecostal preaching over the tickling of synthesized keys projected on blown out speakers.  Not a small feat considering the church and its goliath sound system are literally next door, but then again I grew up with train tracks and a freeway in my backyard.  I'm a talented sleeper once I get going.  But this Sunday’s alarm was accented with Sigamo and Tamri effectively chasing down and wrangling the families newly purchased goat.  Hooves scrabbling against broken cobblestone, heavy breathing, and some peculiarly human sounding guttural noises.  The latter also from the goat.  Any-who you know where I am going with this. 

No sooner was the goat’s femoral  artery slashed and bleed dry did Sigamo show up at my bedroom door enquiring if I was skilled in skinning, and sectioning off the meat of a freshly slaughtered goat.   With a serious amount of man points on the line I of course replied “ sure, I’m game to try”.  At that Sigamo chortled and handed me a knife. 

Sigamo, Tamri, Kia (Sigamo’s youngest) and I worked as a team to hold different appendages in different angles as Sigamo skillfully undressed the meat.  Skin was scrupulously fileted with a combination of delicately slicing and brutal pulling.  In less than 10 minutes the pelt slid off in one strikingly clean section.  Sigamo exhibited little astonishment.  Unlike me, he’s been at it for a half century of holidays.

 

I could go on, but I feel I’ll lose more readers than I’d gain by better illustrating the morning butchery.  Though, on a side not, all four of us were wearing flip flops, though Sigamo and I were especially smartly dressed with shorty shorts.  Nice little mental gem huh?

That all said, about 13 kilos of meat was beautifully sectioned off and piled in a large basin to be cleaned and prepared by Mom, Sahi, and Meta.  The pelt was put in a bag to be given to a friend (he is a furniture maker), and the unwanted parts were taken by Tamri to the far end of the property to be given to the birds.  While Sigamo and I were busy cleaning our hands and legs, Lolo was busy sniffing out those bird scraps.  I figured Tamri was shew Lolo away if she got curious.  Silly me.  When dogs in Ethiopia are fortunate, they are able subsist on holiday meat scraps.  That said, when Tamri noticed Lolo picking at the leftovers, unannounced to me, he thought nothing of it.  I didn’t see it, but I imagine Lolo chowing down on what was left: stomach and skull innards.  

While all that is going on, the family and I are happily eating a morning feast comprised of fresh eggs, milk and raw goat liver powdered with burberry (Ethiopian spice).  When you take part in the death of an animal its wrong not to take part in its consumption, right? Lolo and I both were chowing down.  30 minutes pass and my belly's swollen with good eating and butter salt coffee; another holiday delicacy (celebrated on daily basis by my fam) that  I’ve come to think of it as a stew in a coffee cup.  I said my thank you’s and walked over to my room to change into some running clothes for my Sunday work out.  That’s when my morning took a Godfather turn.   

I entered room, and then enthusiastically shouted my first English of the day… “awe you got to be kidding!”  Cute little Lolo was splayed out on my pillow, covered in goat and contently gnawing on the animals now empty skull.   Upon my shout, she just looked up at me with a… what’s your problem scowl.  After taking the whole scene in, I snatched up the head by one of its horns and walked into the dining area to play some show and tell with my family.  They thought it was hilarious, well so did I, I guess.   With incessant laughter in the background I stepped out to the family’s porch and slung the skull into the back yard.  Of course Lolo chased after it, somehow she successfully burrowed under the old corrugated door, and then gave it one last go. 

I had to take a couple photos, the damage to her GI system was already done, and then placed Lolo's holiday chew toy on top of the compound’s 8 foot tall stone wall so the birds could finish it off.

Merry Ethiopian Christmas from Azedebo!

New Years in Azedebo

Out in KT I dont get much of a chance to let it all hang out.  New Year's was suppose to come and go like all the days leading up to it.  I'd have a  small habasha feast with the fam, have a few "fingers" (make a peace sign with your hand then squeeze your index and middle finger together; you now have two fingers of moonshine when held to the glass when a pour is being made) of local brew and pass out before 1130 pm with an ipad/ dog on my chest.  It certainly started that way...  

I awoke to whipping gale force winds  trying can opener my corrugated roof from its rafters.  The wind's that spew out of mountain range directly in front of the school plot, is responsible for such attempts on a pretty regular basis. However, last night, there was a boom, then another and then the sound of metal sheets being wrenched off one another.  Directly following that 1 am alarm, (I hit the imaginary snooze and conked back out) the slow screech of dry hinges and the echo of a bellow from my 67 year old father finally got me moving.

Sigamo was gingerly working his way up a rickety wooden ladder to reach the remnants of his pirated Middle Eastern satellite feed.  Upon seeing him half way up, he explained that he was eventually going to pull himself up to the roof and refasten his teetering dish in the 50 mile per wind.  Well, at that hour of night, and with that weather he wasnt exactly feeling up to it.  So I played the role of a good guest/handy guy.

I rang in the new years with a dense clutter of stars smiling down on me as I scuttled up and down a few cobbled together sticks for 45 minutes.  In the end, we somehow ended up successfully strapping down an Ethiopian "dish" platform with scraps of old electrical wire and my extra hammocks rope.  For good measure, I toted up a few 40 or so pound stones to assist in making sure the sail of a satellite ( it at least 5 feet in diameter) didnt get antsy.  Our work made it through the night, and the dish is working today just fine. Happy  ferengie New Year pops.

Its funny, most of my new years of past were, events, and memorable in their own right, though the memories from lasts nights festivities will surely stick with me a little more effectively.  Possibly because they were not lubricated with cheap champagne or Goldshlagger, but more likely because it was a good little adventure in Azedebo family bonding.

The following day was spent tending to the usual.  Almost all the cob is now ready for application, the roof is primed for corrugated above two of the four classrooms, and the floor's foundation will be complete by tomorrow afternoon.  

Enjoy, I mostly did.  

The boulders I shlepped up to the roof, and my hammocks rope help holding the dish's platform down.

Dad holding the ladder, and getting a kick out of me capturing this wake up on camera

I slept through New Years, but had a productive 1 am.

Perfecting the corrugated rood supports

46 hands working away.

Trimming some rafter fat

Another days work

A day ends and new day begins

Not so fortunate me is still sharing a pint sized cot with my quickly growing baby gal.  Lolo and I get along pretty well in the late evening, we are both exhausted,  so its easy getting comfortable and knocking out.  Sleep has been working fairly well.   There is the occasional bathroom break, or awkward late night rollover, but we manage…  it’s the mornings that are little unnerving.  Lolo, like clockwork starts playing tug-a-war with my sheets at  6:30.  In an attempt to make the most of my fleeting opportunity for rest, I let her win, and snatch another 10 or so minutes.  Shortly after, were both up, I horridly find my work wear and take Lolo out (puppy potty training is not for the impatient). 

Like my mornings most anywhere, its just going through the motions.  Stretch, hydrate, email if internet allows, and then its breakfast and ginger tea with a welcoming morning read (Azedebo motions are a little nicer than usual).  Right now I'm flipping the digital pages of the Talking Heads’s old front man, David Byrn’s Bicycle Diaries.  Its good. But wow do I miss my bike. Kololo has some fresh milk, with a side of the same bread, and scraps of eggs if my appetite allows.  It’s just the two us at the table, me beside it and her below. The morning is refreshingly quite, my father and mother are often still snoozing, everyone else is getting ready for school or taking care of chores, so outside of a couple rooster flare ups, Lolo and I enjoy in peace. 

By about 745 I’m brushing my teeth and filtering the last bit of  few liters of water for the days consumption. Work and school  begin at 8, so we are sure to be on our way no later than 7:50.  I then have the pleasure of escorting Meta and Sahi (two of the young ladies I live with, one family, the other a house maid) to school.  The mornings are pretty brisk at 2,400 meters, so Lolo is happy to be ushered to the work site inside Meta’s sport coat.  It’s a symbiotic relationship; Lolo stays cozy while Meta absolutely cherishes her task. The school compound is but a short jaunt across the main road and the sports field, but after just a couple minutes the four of us are usually walking in a huddle of 40 or so curious and a bit envious students.  Lolo is the only puppy around, and the only clean dog for that matter, Meta, if she wasn't already, has definitely become one of the “cool kids.”  Once inside the school property Lolo, Meta and Sahi say their goodbyes, Lolo leaps to the ground and the two of us jog the 100 meters to the jobsite.  Most of the crew is usually already there, and happy to see the both of us.  Her more than I… of course.   

Freshly made habasha bread, eggs and potatoes with plenty of hot sauce, tea, and my ipad. Not exactly roughing it.

Meta and Sahi on our way to the school compound.

Those smile are for the little pup running their way.

Where I lay my head

So I've been in Azedebo for almost a week and a half, and have yet to share where I lay my head.  So here are a few shots of the family's home and compound that I am happily staying in.  Its Sunday, so most of the family is either at church or seeing fam and friends in the area.  But be sure that Ill have another blog introducing you to my new family.

Most folks that are familiar with how we usually do our builds probably were expecting my crew and I all to be living under one roof.  The house is usually donated by the community, or we pay a small, but fair amount to the homeowner (who usually ownes another property that they then move into).  That wasn't possible in Azedebo.  The small town, didnt have to many places to offer, and those they did, were owned by some not too kind people.  Rather then providing us a fair rent, they saw an opportunity to make money, and proceeded to try to make a ridiculous amount.  In addition, the community rests on a main thoroughfare, and with that comes many of the passerby's and young men with idle hands that love hanging out on the road.  As result, well its not the safest place for a few foreigners that are assumed to have plenty of cash and fancy stuffs laying about.  

Safty is of the upmost importance, and unfortunately its not always the wildlife we are forced to worry about.  So we worked with the local officials and community leaders to get Ejigu, Temesgin and Sallamnesh a place within the school compound that overlooks our build site.  There are two security guards, and it known that unless you farm on rented school property, strangers are not welcome in the schools compound. While Lolo and I, and all of our fancy stuff moved in with a village elder and his family.  His house is literally across the blindingly dusty road from the school, so its plenty close, we have a big wall, and my "father" is very well respected so I am plenty safe.  Dont fret.

The basic set up is, Lolo and I live in a spare room in the main house.  The family was using it for storage space, and now I get to use the old cabinet and broken fridge for my own storage. Because my days (7am-6 pm) are spent at the job site or at at my crews place of living, I really am only around for the evenings.  But as one can imagine they are usually short lived.  8 hours of 34.5 C heat at 2500 meters wears you down a bit. I do manage to make it to family dinner every night, which the mother and father especially enjoy.  And its great for my Amharic, and local languages, because no one speaks a lick of English.

Ill share more about my life with the family in future posts.  For the time being welcome to Lolo and I's new home.

My bedroom.  Notice... I have a socket on the wall.

My families swanky dinning area

Lolo and the 40 or so chickens are working on their relationship.  The family and I always get a chuckle from the spats.

My not so secret garden, the chicken coop and the families farm hand

Family compound: Their convenience store on the left (faces the road) cooking area, animal and food storage, in the front and the living quarters on the right.  Its a nice spread.

Lolo, the compounds new guard puppy

Sunday = loud churches, me typing, and lots of laundry being done.

The families mango/coffee/banana grove.  There's also a few types of tubers and guards packed in as well.

My Sunday place of business.  Under the shade of a mango tree. Doi. I am still looking for a suitable set up for my hammock.