To the Ocean :)

The smell of fresh salty air as it blows off the Ocean, how the salt feels on your skin and in your hair as you dry of in the humid weather, floating with the tide, letting your feet slowly become submerged in the sand at the edge of the shore-- I argue that these are things that make anyone who grew up by the ocean feel at home. 

I grew up on the Atlantic Ocean, with a grandmother who would swim with a “jellyfish-stick” to make sure that I had a clear swimming path, my cousins, my brother and I would later dry the same Jellyfish out a low-tide, build sandcastles to see who’s would best endure the advancing tide and play golf on the sand dunes with our dad. Living in a mountain city in East Africa I have never missed the ocean more and thus, it was the promise of spending a few days floating in salty water which solidified for me that I must visit Tanzania. So while I find myself a world away from the Nova Scotian shores of Brule beach, I was fortunate enough to find my sense of serenity and childhood joy in the salty waters of the Indian Ocean.

My first glimpse of Dar's Shoreline :) 

I am somewhat of an anomaly, a maritimer who doesn’t like seafood to the extent that I would bypass that section of the grocery store as a child to avoid the smell, yet the smell of drying fish wafting through the air in Zanzibar, mixed with the contagiously charismatic energy of the people almost instantly reminded me of Ghana. It still astounds me how quickly a smell, or a sound can take you to another time and place.

"Hakuna Matata" Boats docked in Stonetown, Zanzibar

For me, one of the things I always find interesting in traveling is to see the commonalities but also the differences in a new place and what I consider home. So while Tanzania/ Zanzibar is on the ocean and Tanzanian’s incredible hospitality quickly made me feel at ease and think of Nova Scotia, there were obviously plenty of difference. For one, it is a tropical climate not to mention that the national language is Swahili. And yes Hakuna Matata ACTUALLY means no worries, and Tanzanians use it often, as they are incredibly laid back. And although I am proud of the place I call home, the color of the water around the coral reef in Zanzibar is like nothing I have ever seen. I can only compare the pure turquoise, which is simultaneously clear enough to see meters and meters down into its depths, to that vibrant color you get when you first mix food coloring into white icing. In addition to the physical differences, Tanzania has an incredibly rich history, which I hope to learn more about in the coming weeks. There was a great Arab influence, which can be attributed to the Zanzibars’s current Muslim majority amongst other things. As well there is a large Indian population who have called Dar es Salaam home for many generations now. And while I have been writing about “Tanzania” as one, because technically it is now one country, it was only in 1964 that Tanganyika–the former German Colony turned British Mandate—joined with Zanzibar to form Tanzania.   

It's official- I need a hammock! 

I am incredibly thankful that the Coady grants its interns 5 days of vacation time. I am grateful for the opportunity to see more, but also to take a step back – while lying in a sweet hammock—and realize how fortunate I am to have such experiences. The laughter and shared stories with new friends make the world seem so much smaller and spark a desire in me to continue seeing and learning more.

Someone once said to me “the trouble is, the more you see, the more you will want to see” and while it seems obvious, it couldn’t ring more true to me. There is so much world out there, and the neat thing about traveling is that it brings to life realities that previously I had only read about or imagined. I feel it is also one of the most powerful ways to break down stereotypes, and the “othering” of societies different from your own. It provides the opportunity to see that people are more than just an all-encompassing title—I am not JUST Canadian. Everywhere around the world people have hopes and fears, their favorite spots to hang out with friends and family, things they do to make them happy, things they do to try and relax, things that make them stress— I acknowledge that some of us are blessed to have less stress and worries than many others, yet my goal remains to see as many places as possible from the perspective of those who live there and have “their spots”. So to all of you out there who have helped me to do this so far Muchas Gracias!! And know that if you ever come to the Maritimes, mi casa es su casa! Let the adventures continue :) 

Sunset in Zanzibar

As always please feel free to get in touch with your comments or questions at: steph.milo.mackinnon@gmail.com

Steph xx

“How is Ethiopia?”

In an introductory conversation with an Ethiopian friend of a friend, a colleague or even a cab driver, it is very likely that they will ask ‘How is Ethiopia?’ After establishing how long you have been in the country, most Ethiopians want to know how you feel about their nation. Fair enough.

If you asked an Ethiopian to describe their nations typical characteristic, I would suspect the list would include; hospitable, kind, generous, proud, inviting etc.

And I am happy to say that I have been fortunate enough to meet many people, during my four month stay, who more than fit into this description- my colleagues in particular who have made me feel incredibly welcome and at home. Especially while traveling to the field, they make great efforts to make me feel included and encourage my participation.

Someone said to me recently that they feel there is a direct co-relation between how much one enjoys Ethiopia and how much time they have to spend outside/on the streets.

I cringe to think of the habits I have developed here. As a car-less intern I spend A LOT of time walking places on the streets. As a Martimer smiling at passersby is a natural reaction, particularly in rural areas where greeting a stranger is common practice. While in Ethiopia I have developed a particular habit of looking at the ground when I walk past construction sights, taxi drivers, shoeshine boys, fruit stands etc where I am not only asked if I would like to buy what they might be selling but often told we should marry or that they want to be my good friend. It frustrates me because while some, I am sure are good people, the others who yell inappropriate objectifying sexual comments have in fact ruined it for everyone else. For this reason I find it easier to avoid starting conversations or even looking at people rather than trying to escape an uncomfortable situation later on. If someone was to only spend a few days here, taking public transport and walking most places, their perception of Ethiopians would likely/unfortunately be terribly negative and distorted to believe the worst.  I recognize that it is not everyone, people have helped me find mini-buses, and been very kind, but its in-between demeaning animal like catcalls which are incredibly rude and inappropriate… please do not wink at me while making my Macchiato - it is creepy and I’m never going to want to talk to you now.

My mother told me about some errands my brother had to run the other day in Antigonish, buy a camera case, fixing his glasses and ORDERING HIS X-RING (35 days FYI). While she was excited for him that he had managed to accomplish so many things in one afternoon, for me it was the silence and invisibility of his actions that I realized I envied the most. Every time I leave the house/ the office to step onto the street in Addis I take a deep breath and hope that today will be a “good day” aka a quiet day. A quiet day is when only a handful of people shouts at you, and don’t follow you in their persistence. A frustrating day is exactly what I recently had on my walk home from work. I was trying to clear my head, a delusional idea while walking home here, so I was a bit lost in thought, when a man passed me on the Bole road, index finger out pointing at me and shouted “F**K YOU, yea you F**K YOU, F**K YOU” and then carried on his way up the street.

While first I couldn’t help but laugh thinking “seriously? Did that actually just happen?” I then felt immense rage for the anger that was targeted at me out of nowhere. Yet my final emotion was curiosity, I would love to know what the thought process was that went through that mans head before he shouted in my face. And unlike the gentleman who was wearing a disheveled plaid shirt and a cowboy hat that claimed to be interest in ‘being my best friend’ and tried to walk me home earlier that week, the shouter was not visibly under influence of chewing chat*.

So why did the shouter hate me? He wasn’t stoned and delusions, had I ignored his friend or him earlier that week? Had he mistaken me for someone else or was it just because of the color of my skin? I have opted to lean towards the last answer—having been here for almost five months now I have fallen into a routine, built a life if you will, and in doing so seem to have slacked on my analysis of the impact of my presence. While to me I am just another individual living in an increasingly multicultural city, to this stranger my white skin may be perceived as a representation of great privileged and power. Privilege and power that has been exerted by many other foreigners for years in his country, through many streams but particularly Aid organizations. I may represent a life of ease which he can only dream of.

Thus while I see myself as a broke recent graduate, working as an intern who walks to and from work as I’m car-less, I silently represent much more. Thus as much as it is draining to walk, and I will never know what his real motivation was, his abrupt interruption to my walk acted as a reminder of the weight of the privilege I carry, even silently, through my whiteness. It also allowed me to recognize the privilege I have in the fact that I will return to a country where for 20 years I only knew silence and ease of daily activities and interactions. I now recognize that not everyone has access to such a space.

Privileged is deeply complex and I do not claim to have fully understood how mine has influence my experiences here in Ethiopia. Yet, I want to express that my interaction with the “shouter” has acted as a abrupt reminder of a complex dynamic. After the interaction, I dug through some old papers from my undergrad and (thanks to the search bar on my mac) I came across the section that follows, I never imagined in would ring so true to my reality.

Both social location and subject position involve the acknowledgement of ones gender, race, class, and nationality for example, yet to express ones social location is to state it as an abstract frozen and unchangeable fact, which does not provoke a deeper examination of power relations (Heron, 2005, 343). While on the contrary subject position examines how our gender, race, ethnicity and nationality intertwine, engage and impact our perspective. Heron references Foucault (1980), to expand on the role power plays in subject position.

“In thinking of the mechanism of power, I am thinking of its capillary form of existence, the point where power reaches into the very grain of individuals, touches their bodies and inserts itself into their actions and attitudes, their discourses, learning processes and everyday lives”.

Heron uses Foucault to emphasize that we are vehicles of different power relations and that we need to acknowledge not only how these power relations have come to be, but also how they play into our experiences. 

Thus as much as I feel more and more comfortable and “at home” here in Ethiopia, my presence carries a certain level of privilege and it will continue to interact with other power relations for the duration of my stay. Simply stating that I am a white female from a middle class Canadian family is not enough, as it does not examine how these factors play into many interactions, or the history behind why one might resent me without knowing me.  

I wanted to write about this experience because a lot of my friends/ other female interns in the city have experience very similar situations. We have discussed how frustrating/draining moving about the city can be, but how we do not want it to be the sole impression we are left with of Ethiopia as there are many wonderful aspects. More than anything I wanted to reiterate that just like Canadian’s Ethiopians are not a homogeneous group of people, it’s just that all the rude ones seem to congregate on the streets here.

As always please feel free to send me any questions or comments at steph.milo.mackinnon@gmail.com

Steph xx

Lalibela

The top view of Saint Giorgis Church- Lalibela

A priest things outside a church

Legend had it that, around the late 12^th Century in the Mountains of Northern Ethiopia Saint Lalibela (Emperor of the Zagwe Dynasty) had a revelation. His revelation dictated that he was to build a second Jerusalem in the rocks of his mountainous home. The story goes, that too many pilgrims were losing their lives on the testing journey to Jerusalem. The churches are within the rocks as a representation to the holy resting place of Jesus. The religious narrative explains that the rock-hewn churches, all 13 of them, were built within 23 years and when the masons would lay their heads to rest, angel would come in the evening to continue their work. Most of the pillars inside the churches have tributes to the angels, with the corners being carved out and named “angels eyes”. While there is hardly consensus on the length of time, one of the other prominent historical arguments was that the Free Masons were involved in the building. One of the aspects which was evident to see the was the  Axumite influence on the design of many of the church windows (Axum is further north and is where legend has it that the Arc of the Covenant is housed.) Whatever the history may be, the reality is that photos and descriptions of the churches, set into the rock hardly do justice to seeing them in person.

Cheesy Group Tourist Shot- Take 1

Sears Catalogue Style

Meskel Day, an Ethiopian Orthodox Holiday to celebrate the finding of the “true cross” fell on Friday the 27^th, which means there was a long weekend!  So after we attended a large celebration at Meskel Square Thursday evening, where they had a MASSIVE fire as tradition commands, a few fellow interns and I made the short trek Via Ethiopian Air to Lalibela Friday morning—side note: the flight was less than an hour and a half and we still got a snack (not stale pretzels), C’mon Air Canada! Step it up!— On our first day we had a wonderful tour guide who was born and bread in Lalibela and has been working their for 10 years now show us the churches.

On our second day we were presented with a few options – drive 45km outside of town to see another church, trek up the mountain beside the town (with our without your own pack mule-an option you are not presented everyday) to see a monastery at the top. As a group we opted to do neither, and instead to check out a chaotic local market in the morning and then wonder around town. We eventually made our way to the side of town where the nicer hotels were all located on the edge of the mountainside with spectacular views of the valley below. We finished our relaxing day with dinner at a restaurant, Ben Ababa, owned by a wonderful Scottish woman. It  looked like its something out of a SciFi film- it boast spectacular views and delicious food! (Pictures to come)

I feel incredibly fortunate to have been able to spend a relaxing afternoon in what felt like paradise, in the company of great friends. One of the topics that seemed to permeate our discussions throughout the weekend was “what’s next?” As all five of us are CIDA (Canadian International Development Agency) Interns, our time in Ethiopia is quickly ticking to a close and we will soon find ourselves back in Canada facing the reality of such a question. While we are all interns, our lives up to this point have varied greatly and I appreciated hearing the perspectives and inputs from everyone. One of the big questions, was ‘what city, within Canada, would you ultimately want to live in?’

Halifax from Citadel Hill

While I will spare the details of the mental pro/con lists we made of many cities, the conversation allowed me to think about what it would really be like for me to live in Halifax. I have spent a number of summers and Christmases in the city, but I have never made it my long term home (as I attended high school in Southern New Brunswick). The time I have spent there has allowed me to build quite a love for the maritime city. I typically describe it to people as small enough where people still hold doors open for you and smile, but just big enough to be called a ‘city’ where you have access to almost anything you need. I love that the small town Maritime feels still permeates the city, I love that one of the main downtown streets, Argyle, essentially becomes one Giant patio in the summer when every restaurant/bar extends their outdoor eating area into the already narrow street. I love the parks, the sea, the music etc And even though when I’m abroad and I say that I am from Eastern Canada people typically start by responding “oh Toronto?” and I then have to keep saying “nope further” until we work our way past “the French part?” to the “bits that no one knows anything about” and then most look at me and wonder if I live in a raft floating in the Atlantic—I love it (it typically shocks people even more to know that there is a direct flight from Halifax to London Heathrow).
Well there is no doubt of my love for Halifax, our weekend conversations had me wondering where/if I would fit into it. I have had no trouble in the past enjoying myself during my summer/Christmas holidays and I feel very fortunate to have a great group of friends there. My concerns lie around finding a larger profession network and starting a career.

A friends blog about a month ago when she left Ethiopia  (http://wherethewildfernggrows.wordpress.com/2013/09/14/coming-full-circle/ ) gave me a refreshing/needed check and had me asking myself “why did I come to Ethiopia?” – My simple answer, to push myself to experience things outside of what is comfortable, and in navigating these new challenging experiences hopefully learn more about myself and life in general. It is this push outside of what is comfortable that I seem to have been chasing and hope to continue to chase, for a while. It is this pull to push the comfortable; that I fear will not coincide well with Halifax. I hope that my over-thinking skepticism will be proven wrong, and when I try to dig deeper than the surface level of the city I have experience in my summers I will be pleasantly surprised!

I have always been one who over thinks change, not in the paranoid “AHH what will happen to me” sense but in the wonder of possibilities, some of which can in fact be scary, but as my time here is quickly ticking away, I can’t help but wonder where I will find myself in a few months time and how different if will likely be from what my “normal” day to day life has become here in Ethiopia.