Bringing the Memories Home

Just over a month after returning to Canada I found myself stumbling into a coffee shop around the corner from my family's home. Frustrated by the daunting day of job searching, my agitation increased as my glasses, made almost frozen from the frigid Canadian temperature outside, instantly fogged up upon walking into the warm shop. After attempting to wipe my glasses clear, I impatiently put them back on before the fog had fully lifted. New to the coffee shop, I glanced at the blends available and my spirits instantly lifted when I found "Ethiopian-Yirgachefe" scribbled on the list in pink chalk.

People always say that your senses-- taste, smell and sound in particular-- can take you back to a precise moment or feeling. I couldn't agree with them more. The distinct taste of Ethiopian coffee alone is enough to bring me back to morning coffees with my coworker, the coffee ceremonies performed on special occasions like NewYears or the countless small coffee houses where we would stop while traveling between Addis and Yabello ( 565km/ 12+hours by car) to visit Oxfam project sites.

The taste reminded me of how on our first trips I would timidly ask what was happening when we seemed to arbitrarily pull over on the side of the road. I quickly learned to stop asking. Oxfam's driver always had our best interest in mind and 9/10 times coffee was involved. To the untrained eye, many of the stops would appear to be in the middle of nowhere, our driver always knew where to find the best coffee. More than that he always knew the women who ran the coffee houses and all about their families. I became accustom to the smiles he was greeted with and the laughter he would generate every where he went. Colleagues from Canada would joke that he should be a politician as he had infinite connections and seemed at home wherever he went in the country.

One of his favorite stops on the trip to Yabello was Yirgachefe. The coffee house was like most others on our journey. Patrons sat on short wooden stools to drink their expresso sized coffee out of handless mugs. The smell of fresh traditionally brewed coffee mixed with burning incense sat heavy in the thin mountain air.

My colleagues would always say that "Yirgachefe has the Best coffee in Ethiopia", and as a result would haul up to 5kg's of raw beans back to Addis for friends and family to roast.

Yet, more than the coffee itself when I hear Yirgachefe I remember the first trip I made to the South, only a few weeks into my time in Ethiopia. Anyone who has lived in or visited a country where the mother tongue is not your first language will understand the "lets laugh at him/her trying to say hard words" conversation (Like non-native English speakers trying to say 'Aluminum' or if you are really mean 'Sally sells seashells down by the seashore'). For my Ethiopian colleagues there favorite word to have me say was Yirgachefe with its rolling 'r' immediately followed by a dry 'g' they honestly couldn't get enough of my struggle, to the point that tear filled contagious laughter characterized almost an hour of that trip.

So today, thousands of miles away from Ethiopia, I sat in a cozy Canadian coffee shop peering at the cold outside. I felt fortunate to have the memories of my time in Ethiopia. It reminded me that we carry our experiences with us and they largely shape our perspectives and who we are as individuals in a larger world. So while I am no longer physically in Ethiopia, I sure hope my senses will continue to jolt me back to that part of my recent past. It is for these experiences as well as how they mix into my life back in Canada that I travel; to see and experience new things but also to shift my perspective and see something 'old' in an entirely 'new' light, like the coffee shop around the corner.

Steph xx

FOUR Days Left.

With my time in Ethiopia quickly ticking to a close, many people keep asking “so how do you feel about leaving?” Honestly, I wish I knew.  If you asked me a month ago, I would have almost immediately responded “Extremely Excited!” I miss my friends and family immensely! And am still so excited that I will be seeing many of them in merely a few days.

But now that the date is almost here I feel that ‘mixed emotions’ is an understatement. While I missed home often during my stay, it is different because I knew I would be returning. On the other hand leaving Ethiopia is a strange situation; I have put my time and energy for the last 6 months into making Ethiopia a home. And it is finally starting to feel just that way. But with the rainy season behind me, the city has become more enjoyable and accessible every day. It is strange to have no idea if I will ever be back, and if I am will it even be comparable? This may sound silly, but in a city like Addis the population is almost on a constant rotation of expats on contracts of various lengths.

So while I am overjoyed and almost in disbelief that I get to see my family and friends this coming weekend. I am left curious, anxious and excited about what the coming months will hold for me. As not only am I unsure of whether I will ever be back in Ethiopia, I am unsure of what exactly I will be doing once the holiday season wraps up.

So in trying to figure out how to say “goodbye” to Ethiopia. I was lucky that the infamous (in these parts anyway) Great Ethiopia Run, lined up with my last weekend. The 10km road race, started by Olympic Runner Haile Gebrsellasie, is the largest of its kind in Africa. While I do not have the official number it is rumored that 37 000 people participated this year.

The crowd making their way to the start line.

So myself and my roommate Rachel made our way to the start point early Sunday morning, with 37 000 eager others. Firstly it was strange to see many of the surrounding streets, which are usually chaotic with traffic, completely closed off. But as we walked with the masses and inched our way to what would be our starting position—aprx 500m back from the start line as it was PACKED —it started to look more like an aerobics class meets a nightclub. There were speakers blaring music and people impromptu dancing and stretching in groups, not to mention a few men on stilts?

Me and 37 000 friends...

As Ethiopia is a nation of runners, for many of the participants the 10km distance at 2500m above sea level was merely a casual way to spend their Sunday—so the sung and danced more or less in groups through the entire race. While others, who were more so there just to participate, opted to walk. The combination of paces that people moved at, and the sheer volume of participants made running the race much like trying to navigate a busy market place on fast forward. At one point a girl stopped to tie her shoe in the center of a downhill section essentially body-checking Rachel.

Even though it was chaotic, it was an amazing experience. The energy from the group was incredible, but I think one of the highlights was in coming down one of the first big hills you could actually see the starters up ahead climbing the next hill—without having that visual it would have been hard to actually understand the sheer volume of people participating.

We did it! Participation Medals:)

And even though the altitude, the final hills and nearly getting heat stroke from the intense mid-day heat almost killed me, it is an experience I would highly recommend to anyone who ever has the chance to participate!!

So with that I am left with less than a week in Addis Ababa. And will soon find myself trading in my sandals for wool socks and boots, my morning macchiato’s for drinks by a fireplace; and perhaps Tuesday night soccer for a skate around the oval. My daily life is about to change drastically- but I’m as ready as I will ever be! Canada here I come!

Steph xx

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

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.

Melkam Addis Alem

Billboard hits from 2006

-       Don’t Forget About Us- Mariah Carey

-       Check on It – Beyonce

-       You’re Beautiful – James Blunt

-       Temperature – Sean Paul

-       SOS – Rihanna

-       Hips Don’t Lie – Shakira

-       SexyBack – Justin Timberlake

While 2006 seems well in the past to many in Ethiopia, this time last week (our Sept 11) Ethiopians were ringing in their new year! Happy 2006—take two?

 The Ethiopian Calendar is based on the Alexandrian or Coptic calendar, this puts them seven years behind the majority of the world who follow the Gregorian Calendar. The amount of days between the two calendars fluctuates as they also have a 13^th month known as Pagume and all other months only have 30 days (minus leap years).

Ethiopians also use a different clock, which can create confusion when making arrangements with the likes of taxi drivers or restaurants. What the international community would refer to as 8pm or 20:00, in Ethiopian is 2 o’clock (6 hours behind a standard 12 hour clock). The easiest way people tend to differentiate is by referring to one as Habesha (Ethiopian) time and Forenji (foreigner) time.

So how do Ethiopians celebrate the New Year?

While at home there is always a lot of hype around making great NYE plans, it tends to be one of those nights that most find to be overrated. And yes there were many events, concerts, dinners etc. that you could attend in the city similar to the type you would attend in Canada. Yet, hands down the most common response I received when asking Ethiopians what they would do to celebrate was “eat meat.. lots and lots of meat”. Thus in order for the Ethiopians to eat all this meat goats, cattle chickens etc had to be slaughtered on the masses. Needless to say there was a noticeable increase in livestock roaming the streets of Addis, likely on route to the slaughterhouses, in the week leading up to New Years.

It is however worthwhile mentioning that this year Sept 11^th fell on a FASTING DAY. Now what might that mean? All Orthodox Christians (the majority of Ethiopians) ‘fast’ every Wednesday and Friday which essentially means they are vegans for the day- aka they consume no animal products. Thus, this put a huge damper on the main event- meat eating- of the celebrations! As a result many also took Thursday as a holiday, slaughter their goat or chickens, and made up for the lost day by consuming more meat than most can imagine!

It was wonderful to be here for New Years, the atmosphere in my office alone on NYE day reminded me of grad school children, unable to focus before their Christmas holidays! There was a coffee ceremony, cake and lots of Ethiopian dancing! As excited as I am, to re-live 2006, I am even more excited that many consider the Ethiopian New Year to mark the end of the rainy season! Bring on the sunshine!

So happy 2006 every body! Melkam Addis Alem J

Sports

X-Rugby Team Post National Championship Win

As the rain is finally drying up in Addis Ababa, I know that the leaves are slowly changing colours and the humidity fading in the little town of Antigonish Nova Scotia,which more importantly means that the university rugby season is starting. While I have naturally missed many things during my three months in Ethiopia –family, friends, summer weather, THE OCEAN, organized infrastructure…etc- Now that it is fall in Nova Scotia, I wish I could be playing with my X-rugby family as they kick off against Acadia tonight to open their season.

For as long as I can remember, I have been part of a team whether soccer (football) or rugby. As it was my ‘normal’ I did not realize the massive impact it has had on me as a person. Yet as this is the first time in FIVE years I am not playing X-Rugby, I find myself feeling as if I am almost missing something. When at the gym, I used to run faster or work harder primarily to secure/ fight for playing time. I remember the first time I went for a run once our season finished last year, I couldn’t help but ask myself what my purpose was? Is this simple for my physical fitness? A foreign concept to me!

So what is it that drew me to spend sooo much time with a team? Why do people pay big bucks to sit at professional games? Playing rugby at StFX was an incredible experience, for so many reason, but the only way I can explain it was when you were on the field, and everyone was on their game, it felt like you were one piece of an incredible well oiled machine, you knew that you were never alone, for me it epitomized teamwork and accomplishing something as a group that would be far out of your reach as an individual. When people would ask me how I spend upwards of 15 hours a week practicing and playing a sport, I would ask ‘how could I not?’ But up until recently, now that it isn’t at the center of my world, I could never have explained what pulled me to be part of it, it was just never a question in my mind. In hindsight however I think it is that feeling of being part of something bigger than you alone.

While I can hardly speak for all of society I think that there is something very powerful about sports, something unifying, something larger than ourselves whether you are actively participating in the game or engaged as a spectator. I know I chased that feeling for years, and the natural high I gained by playing rugby and winning two national championships with my X-Rugby family is a natural high I can compare to nothing else I have ever experienced.

Yet I also see this passion translated to fans. While at home in Canada it may be a passion for hockey which is most popular, but in Ethiopia my short time here has lead me to believe the passionate support is strongest for their national football team and runners. The first of my two experiences with this pride was when a parade erupted on one of the main roads when Ethiopia beat South Africa in a world cup-qualifying match, EVERYONE was cheering and dancing sporting the team’s colors. Or when their runner (Tiru) took the 10 000m title in Moscow- I was in a small bar in Yabello (500+km south of Addis—the middle of no where!) and 35-40 people were huddled around a small TV stand set up outside. When she won the small crowd erupted in cheers, hugging and congratulating one another for their nations victory.

Pre-Match vs South Africa - Fans on route to watch at Meskel Square
photo credit to Caroline

There is a wonderful unifying and connective power to such moments of celebration. A city or groups of people feel alive. It is for this reason that I am likely going to stake out a local sports bar this weekend with whoever else is game, to secure a good seat for when the Ethiopia – Central Africa football match starts.

So, to my X-Rugby ladies, even though I am half a world away TOP LEFT, I am still and will forever be with you even if not physically present. Best of luck defending your national title this year! And if my internet cooperates you best believe I will be watching all of the live streamed games… even if they do come in more like a slideshow of photos!