Are We There Yet?

Okay, so after carefully deliberating for days on end (erhm slash I just decided to start this, pretty much now), I’ve finally decided to blog about my adventure(s) (hopefully it’s plural. How much of a bummer would that be if I only had one exciting story for an entire year?) in Ethiopia, assuming I make it there. But I’ll get to that later.

One of my life goals is to some day have something truly inspirational to say that would merit a quote on an oversized overpriced poster written in Lucinda Calligraphy Font against some unidentifiable, yet tranquil scenic background that would be hung in classrooms and dorm rooms alike for wandering eyes to reflect upon for seconds or so during a particularly boring lecture or perhaps before lights out. Ideally, it would be an amalgamation of Thoreau’s affinity for nature, Ghandi’s quiet yet spiritual power, MLK’s eloquence, Ali’s swag, Mama Theresa’s gentleness and Marilyn’s cheekiness. Timelessness. Their presence is bound in their words. How powerful is that? Look out for mine. It’s coming soon to a poster near you. I can feel it…

Until then, all I have is this blog and I will do my best to keep it interesting. No promises, of course. And while we are on the subject of no promises, I can’t guarantee that all of my spelling and grammar would impress a college English professor (I’m phresh outta college bro), nor will I guarantee daily or even weekly updates, but I will do my best to keep up regularly (you know, for the two or three of you that are even checking. Shout out to Mom and Dad for being two of them --hopefully).

            In case you have made it this far and have no idea what I’m talking about, 1^st of all, impressive and thank you for sticking around, 2^nd…HI! I’m Semhar, and I’m spending a year in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, volunteering with the Salesian Lay Missioners program. My job description includes working in a classroom with primary school children with as many as 450 students weekly! A staggering number, yes, but also an amazing opportunity to make an impression on so many young lives. It is so easy to be fixated on the potential hardships that can occur with that many little ones, but from a glass half full perspective, I have at least 450 tries to connect with someone, to cultivate a relationship with someone, to affect and be affected by someone and what a blessing that is. If I fail 450 times, I will be living in a community with other volunteers: two from Austria, two from Italy, and Erin, another SLM from the U.S. I know Erin likes me, and if she doesn’t, she’s really good at faking it, but hey, that’s good enough for me. I am uncertain about the others, particularly because I have yet to meet them. Let me explain.

How long does it take to get to Ethiopia? Typically, it takes about 13 hours nonstop from DC (and it takes about 5 or so hours from California to DC), but if you’re me, it takes all of 5 days. I’m not wonderful with math, but I’m pretty certain I could’ve gone back and forth from CA to Ethiopia 6 times.

WHAT? So here’s what happened.

Semi brief breakdown:

Thursday: I hugged and kissed and had a tearful good-bye (yes, I cried. Where did those emotions come from?) with my parents on Thursday September 12^th . After a RUSHED lunch (honestly, if they were sad to see me go, their insistence that we leave the restaurant, directly across the street from the airport mind you, nearly 3 hours early did not convince me. Unrequited love. I am a victim), I was dropped off (more like kicked out) at US airway of LAX soon to be D.C. bound before the long awaited international flight to Ethiopia. Excited, nervous, and strapped with two carry-ons and two 49.999 bags (I’m just that precise) I wait. Of course the east coast decides to blizzard, storm, hurricane, or something that evening, so my flight is delayed. I am moved to United (on completely the other side of the airport) where the ticketing woman believes the odds are ever in my favor. WRONG. Still a delay. One hour. No problem. Is that coffee I smell? Starbucks? Is that you? My chest pounds heartily (pun intended) with the smell of possibilities. Alas, it’s just you Coffee Bean. Can this night get any worse?

One. Hour. Later (anyone watch Spongebob?)

So my 9:30 flight which is now a10:30 flight just became a 1:00am Friday morning flight. First, 2^nd class Starbucks, now this?

I do what any adult would do. I call my mommy who groggily but excitedly picks up thinking I’m calling from outside the gates of the White House. After I gently break her heart and explain that we are still in the same state, I continue on to complain about little miss diva, Mother Nature, things that are out of any and everyone’s control. I’m well aware. I just wanted to vent. Okay, done.  Breathe. For my yogi’s I “lightly constricted the back of my throat so that my breath sounded like wind through the trees, or wave after wave crashing against the ocean.” Then I returned to my oojiya breathing (yea, I know I spelled that wrong). Step two: find an outlet. Thank you Australian Air for being part of this decade and allowing passengers not one but TWO outlets by their seats while they wait, instead of one stand where people are crowded around like buffalo around a watering hole, for a measly 5 outlets. Anyway, one and a half Harry Potter movies later, our plane thinks about its future plans, like possibly getting up in the air.

1:13am Mission impossible finally proved possible. We board, and by 1:26, 4 minutes away from illegal status in which our flight would be unable to take off, we begin taxiing, and eventually head for the clouds.

After one delayed flight causing a missed flight for an airline that operates once a day (Ethiopian Air, that’s you), 2 nights in a hotel (where I watched the entire fast and furious franchise: Vin, I’m coming for you), eventually cheating on the Ethios for Turkish Air (Harry Potter was available to view. Coincidence?), some time in Turkey, more Harry for the final leg of a very exhausting journey (I got up to the end of the Half Blood Prince. I skipped movies 2 and 3, but still. I’m not extremely thrilled with how I spent my plane rides), then finally arrived in Ethiopia sometime in the morning, which was my previous destination’s afternoon and home’s morning. Or maybe it was home’s afternoon and Turkey’s morning?...

JET LYFE…more like jet lag. It doesn’t help that time is read differently here: their clock starts at 0:00am, which is equivalent to our 6:00am, their 1:00am is our 7:00am, their 6:00am is our noon and so on. Regardless, sun=morning, dark=night. Everything in between, I consider lunch, snack, or dinner. That is what I call a universal clock.

Considering I just got here, I don’t have much to say other than this is completely surreal. All jokes aside, I have forever wanted to come to Ethiopia and to wake up and remember that I’m here, I can only describe this feeling as absolutely ineffable. Not only to be here, but to be here with a sense purpose, I acknowledge as a blessing far greater than the happenstance of time and place alone. While I am still searching for a fully defined purpose, if such an endeavor is even possible, I am fully content in my current condition; I am overwhelmed with joy and this insatiable desire to just do, see, and be. I have always been skeptical of the idea of love at first sight, but now I’m here and I’m a believer, as cliché as it sounds.  I look forward to meeting everyone, especially my little students. I would be lying if I said it isn’t going to be difficult, but I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t think it would be worth it. Let me not get ahead of myself. There is no use in worrying about tomorrow today, therefore I have deemed my personal goal for the year to be present so that I’m open to the gift that is today. In that vain, I will end with this: I simply feel blessed that I’ve arrived safely, that, already, Ethiopia feels like my home, and right now, in this moment, I am truly happy.

Wishing you all well.

Peace,

Sem

p.s. Now that I’m here, maybe I can write something with a little more substance. Again, no promises.

P.P.S. I’d love to hear from you all: Semhar.dory@gmail.com