Kindness by presence, package, touch, and compliment

Yesterday my site mates handed me a slip from the post office informing me that I had a package waiting for me and that there might be another behind the counter. It’s always excited getting mail from the states. It makes me feel not-so-far-away.

Today I went to fetch them. When I got there I discovered I had not one or two packages, but FOUR packages, one of which has been missing in action for over a month. As thrilled as I was to have them, I wondered how the hell I was going to get them back to my tinish bet (little house). I could think of only one option. Reluctantly, I texted my site-mates for their help and, of course, they came to my rescue. They walked from the bottom of the hill, up to the post office, schlepping my stuff all the way back down the hill and over to my house. I’m grateful to have them here. I’m not sure I would have stayed in Ethiopia if I’d been placed in Assella by myself.

While I was waiting for them to meet me at the post office, I sat schlumped over my stack of packages thinking about home. Several people passed by, all of them taking second glances, probably wondering why the white lady was sitting on the ground with a stack of boxes. An elderly woman with no teeth came slowly down the walkway and stopped in front of me. I smiled. “Salomnesh? Indenesh?” I greeted her. She said nothing. She was mute, or spoke only Oromifa, or both. Instead, she clasped her hands together in front of her, as if in prayer and bowed her head to me. She took my hands in hers and squeezed them and bowed her head to me again. She was thanking me. She was showing her gratitude for my being here.

When I got home I did some laundry, left again, and when I came back found that my libs (clothes) were no longer on the clothesline. A while later my landlady told me my clothes were in her house. I assume it was because the household was gone and she didn’t want them stolen. She brought my clothes out to me and from what I could understand from her Amharic, she said something along the lines of, “You're washing is beautiful. I couldn’t have washed them better myself. Very good.” Now, hand-washing is hard, getting clothes truly clean is even harder, and to be complimented on my hand-washing skills by a habisha woman that has been doing it her entire life is a major major MAJOR compliment. It almost blew my mind. No, it did blow my mind.

A previous Peace Corps volunteer was talking to us (volunteers in training) about finding our way through the rough bits of living here. He said “let Ethiopia save you.” This is what he was talking about. It’s the smallest kindnesses that are really the biggest life savers.

Now I know that if catastrophe strikes and washing machines aren't possible, I'll still have clean clothes.

Proof of my mad hand-washing skills

Proof that my friends and family love me