The Great Flea Hunt of 2002

Last week I kind of, uh, got fleas.
Well, my bed became infested with fleas. I don't think I actually had anything to do with it, other than providing them with a food source. According to wikipedia the eggs can chill in bedding for like a year before they hatch, so maybe that was the reason. I really don't know.
But it did result in the adventure that was The Great Flea Hunt of 2002. Yes, 2002. Ethiopia has its own calendar, with 13 months. It’s 2002 in Ethiopia. But it’s fiscal year 2003. I don’t even want to talk about it.
The Great Flea Hunt of 2002 consisted of stripping all my bedding, dragging it into the hallway, screaming and running away when K shook it out, getting a wicked foot cramp from running, sitting on the floor trying to un-dislocate my toe while K dissolved into a fit of laughter, borrowing K's headlamp to do a thorough inspection of the bedding, putting it back on my bed, smothering my legs in DEET, and looking down at my leg while brushing my teeth the next morning to see that it all had no effect because a couple of the damn things were still contentedly attached to me.
The Great Flea Hunt of 2002, Part 2 ensued the following night. By the third day, I finally got smart and just asked them to change my sheets. Success.

In other news, I told a couple of obnoxious, persistent Rastas in the Piassa that my name was Zelda. I really want to try to use Zenon one of these days, but I don't know if I can keep a straight face.

Shopping

On Saturday K’s boss took us to the Merkato, which is touted as the world’s largest open-air market. It’s actually an enormous collection of stores, none of which appeared to be open-air. But it was awesome, especially with someone to negotiate for us in Amharic. I was looking at crosses, and one had a particularly prominent figure of Jesus. I was trying to think of the best way to describe my thoughts on it, and all I could come up with was, “It has too much…[long pause]… Christ.” It has too much Christ. Oy vey.

We met K’s boss’s adorable two-year-old son after. It’s customary to fake-kiss people on the cheeks to say hello or goodbye, but the baby full-on smooched my cheeks to say goodbye. I melted.

This morning a white woman who was obviously a tourist walked into the office and approached my desk as though she had a question. I am not the person that people typically choose to ask for assistance when they walk in the office, so I just stared at her confusedly. Then she asked me where she could buy tampons. I’m not sure if she sought me out because I am white and thus probably speak English or if she sought me out because I am white and thus… an expert in the procurement of feminine hygiene products? Either way, I didn’t understand why she had wandered into the Ministry of Health to get this information. Turned out she had brought some medical equipment with her from Canada while on a trip to visit her friend’s family here and was trying to figure out how to donate it to hospitals. Aha, that’s why she was in the Ministry of Health. On a side note, I felt pretty badass when she asked skeptically if I worked here and I got to say yes. Even though that’s kind of false.

Have Good Appetite!

So the place where I'm staying is full of these awesome Germans. There was the woman who listened to opera and instrumental versions of ABBA songs (she left a couple days ago), Pastor Thomas (who used to live in Chino...huh?), and the white-haired man whose name I can never quite catch but who is basically my favorite person ever. I've never met anyone who better fits the word "jolly." He was thrilled that I had heard of Berlin and even more thrilled when he was briefly under the mistaken impression that I am from Sweden. Last night he walked past as I was eating dinner in the sitting room and called out, "Have good appetite!" with the biggest smile.

Yesterday it was absolutely pouring when I left work, which meant that the streets had basically turned into rivers. I had to cross this one road where someone had thrown a big stone in the middle of this pool of water because the water was way too wide to jump across. But the stone was too far for me to step to, so I had to jump to it and then jump to the other side. I know what you're thinking--yeah, big deal, you jumped across a puddle. So let me share the following details so you can appreciate how much I was like Indiana Jones:
1) The rock was wobbly and only wide enough for one foot.
2) I was wearing a white skirt.
3) I was wearing slippery shoes.
4) I have remarkably poor coordination and balance.
5) I had my laptop in my backpack
6) This was in central Addis, where there is a ton of traffic and the drivers only kind of care if they run you over.
7) It is very likely that there was some sewage in that bottomless lake. Now, those of you who are familiar with my feelings on sanitation know that asking me to jump across a sewage puddle to a wobbly rock is roughly equivalent to asking me to jump across a FIERY PIT OF LAVA.

I'm pretty sure my co-workers think of me as a bumbling (hopefully lovably bumbling) ferenge (is that how you spell ferenge? I don't even know). I went out to tea with a few of them a couple days ago and they found my fear of bees endlessly amusing. Also my inability to pronounce Amharic and the fact that one of them saw me walking all the way back to the Piassa Monday when I couldn't find a minibus to take me there.

Ciao for now

From the mouths of babes...

Welcome to Addis!

The plane over here was packed with Americans going on mission trips to various places in Africa. I think the people I talked to were confused by the fact that a) I wasn't traveling with a group and b) I wasn't going to volunteer in an orphanage.

Saturday was my first day exploring the city, which is a little chaotic. Addis is packed with people and goats and cattle and friendly strangers who unfailingly help me find my way when I unfailingly get lost trying to ride the minibuses.

Re: the title of this blog post: a little girl who could not have been more than 4 years old grabbed my hand and walked with me while asking for money (which is pretty common). What wasn't as common was that, when I shook my head no and took my hand away, she shouted "Screw you!" after me.

For the 4th of July yesterday we sat under an awning in the hostel and watched a sweet lightning storm in lieu of fireworks.

That's all for now!