Not So Full House

I have debated holding off on writing a blog entry on my house until a later point in time due to the slightly untidy nature of my abode. You see my friends, the road construction in my neighborhood took a turn for the worse. I don't mind finding new holes to walk into on the streets around my house, but this new problem has created some difficulties for me. There isn't and won't be water in my house for an unspecified number of days. Right now, I am on day 9. What this means is that keeping my floors mopped, my latrine watered and washing dishes has become an algebraic equation. A part of me enjoys this rationing scale of life. As a result, I have rationed my house to a state of slight messiness and slight cleanliness. I would like to stress the notion that the difficulties of life that are commonplace for me here in Ethiopia make life all the more beautiful and poignant, so please don't assume that any of this is complaint.

Because I know you all will not judge me for my lack of cleanliness, I'm going to start this visual walk through with a visit to my room of rest. The ceiling is a white chessboard above me. In the center of the chessboard is a chandelier that you might find in a temple to Bacchus ... if Bacchus also happened to live next to Barbie. It's gold-rooted veneer moves into purple flowers and fruiting from this is a plethora of dangling circle and rod earrings that bud into plastic grapes. The walls in my room are an amazing sky blue, offset by a light blue mosquito net strung to a wire running directly over my bed. I set this wire up so that I could easily move the mosquito net onto my bed during the rainy season when mosquitoes want to come over for blood tea. Luckily though, I won't be getting malaria in Dessie, the elevation is too high for malarial mosquitoes. On the wall next to my bed are postcards and pictures from the letters and postcards I have received from friends and family. They greet me good days and bad and remind of the loved ones I miss dearly. Below this is a wicker table that hosts a framed picture of my father, mother, and brother, a flashlight, a camera, a deck of Rook cards, a book entitled “Helping Health Workers Learn”, and a receipt for the dresser that is currently being made by a local craftsman for 600 birr. From my bed, I can look out my barred window to a slivered view of Mount Tossa, a governmental office for Dessie, and large eucalyptus trees. My mattress on my bed is bowed from my egregious weight, or rather I should've popped for a better mattress. My bed is still comfortable, but you just end up sliding into the middle of it like a lion ant's trap or maybe Boba Fett into a monster's belly. Strewn haphazard on my bed are red lumberjack blankets and blue flowered sheets, a measure of my dichotomous personality. The sheets I purchased seemed to have been made for a twin bed instead of my full bed, so they tend be pulled in with Boba Fett and I when we sleep. Below that is my creaky wooden bed frame, another procurement from local artisans. On the concrete floor next to me is my makeshift dresser, a cardboard box ripped at it's seem to hold piles of clean clothing. In the corner is a section of floor/basketball hoop that houses my laundry bag. As we open the door to exit to the hallway we can make a right to the bathroom, we can head straight for the secondary bedroom, or we can make a left to run into the kitchen and/or living room.

You picked right to head to the bathroom. Good choice! The walls are tiled in white, an indication of this bathroom's purity. Above the sink that is tilted to provide a soap dish marshland for incoming water, is a hand mirror gilded with plastic diamonds hung from a nail. Here I spend a good portion of my morning primping for the day. To my left is the shower a walled tiled rectangle at knee's height. I was gifted with a hand-held extension for the shower so now I have unidirectional cleanliness. One small thing that keeps me on a multi-day shower detail is how damned cold the water is in my city. Behind me when I'm facing the vanity mirror is the latrine, reminding me that my balance is not as attuned as I'd like it to be. It has remarkable flushing power to rival that of the finest airlines and it also came bejeweled, with speckled cement. Just recently I spotted a very hairy millipede/centipede thing that emerged from the crack in the wall next to the sink. It looks poisonous, but my lack of knowledge in entomology leaves me with skepticism about its intent. Altogether a very nice bathroom and I do not say that with sarcasm (like most of this post seems to be written with). After basking in the glory that is the shint bet, shall we make a right to the 2nd bedroom or continue down the hallway to the kitchen and living room?

I would've picked the closest destination too. The 2nd bedroom has the same general lay out of my room, with a tad bit less size being the major difference. Due to the lack of storage receptacles this room has been converted into a storage area for most things. You can find here a wealth of medical apparatus, books, bags, knick knacks, patty whacks, and especially bones. Well wasn't that boring. Sorry.

As we exit the 2nd bedroom we see to our right a doorway that opens up into a place of absolute wonderment and titillation. The kitchen with its double sink that leaks onto the floor (really it does, the pipes below the sink are not connected to a drainage system), with the rickety kitchen table that rocks precariously when I roll out dough with my wine bottle rolling pin. I also sprang for a butane stove that gives me the ability to quickly cook many things, even when power is lacking. If you were to think to yourself, I wonder which room Jon likes the most, it might just be the kitchen (at least until he gets a sheesha/hookah pipe). The spices and herbs either bought in Addis or donated by good friends and family help him to paint with the palette of the palate. On the floor lies a bucket for kitchen water and two tubs for washing and rinsing dishes. And finally, the kitchen floor holds his dutch oven. Take that Nicolas.

This leaves us with our final destination, the living room. The yellow walls blend in the large amount of light that is buttered throughout the room through the 2 windows and the large windowed door that takes up the majority of the front wall of the house. I have, as of yet, purchased any curtains for my house, so I am a peeping tom's fantasy. As is likely in Ethiopia, the other people that live in my compound know everything that goes on in my house, the un-curtained windows just make it an aquarium-like experience. The room is mostly barren, barring the carpeted area, Orthodox umbrella, and two mattresses (thanks to Alison who has recently left back to Great Britain). The mattresses are covered with the flowery sheets that are so common in Ethiopia. The mattresses are cornered together and provide an adequate couch situation aided by back-support in the form of the rough pillows that are easily purchased for 20 birr a piece. For romantic evenings (by myself of course), I have two wine bottle candelabra and a candle sent straight from Santa Cruz, CA that smells of surf wax. Also in this room are gardening tools, a jump to conclusions mat, a poster reminding me to always do what is best for the company, and my guitar.

My house is comfortable. It is much too big for what I'd need here, but at the same end of the spectrum it's home. I will of course add to what I call home as time passes by, with both memories and curtains. Thanks to Mike and Karen Gardner for the huge package (way too generous!!), Kat for the knitted Ethiopian scarf (it's brilliant!), Libby for the St. Patrick's Day love, and Zander for the beer chiller (being that I don't have a fridge, it will be used quite often). Arsie keep the letter love coming :)

Talk to you soon!

Jon

Comments

[libby!]

bravo! bravo!

Love your post as always Love!

<3!

[Kat]

thank you for the Boba Fett visual! I'm glad the scarf arrived; Happy April Fool's!
(you're obviously missed. but you knew that)