Allyson got to the Internet cafe in Shashemene and was able to do a couple of things before succumbing to what I’ve come to refer to as AGD (African Gastrointestinal Distress). I’ve only been there once, but it finally hit me on the day I was flying home. So I understand what she’s going through. And still the fleas persist. She writes:
Have put flea powder and flea spray all over my room and bed. They woke me up about 5 times last night chewing on me. I really thought I was going to lose it.
But she’s hanging in there. Word is that they are beginning to make a real dent in the malnutrition wave that was caused by a horrible spring drought, which happened just as world food prices were spiking. Allyson saw the picture of the feeding center where she worked, which was shot on Sept. 3, about a week before she got there, and said she hasn’t seen lines that long since she arrived. Good news.
And she is very appreciative of all the nice comments all of you have left on the blog. In fact, she
posted her own comment on the “Fleas” post, just to tell all of you thanks. Check it out.
The latest e-mail from Allyson came in on Friday morning. And bless her heart, she has fleas. I’ll let her tell you the details:
When I arrived all the females who work in the feeding centers were complaining about fleas, and they warned me they would eventually get me and they were right. They have feeding times, I think, and I think that they hop off of the people and the various animals that hang around the feeding centers, goats, scroungy dogs, the odd chicken.
At least she’s staying in a place where she can take a hot shower every day. Even after all her time in Darfur four years ago, she says, she was still unprepared to see the filthy living conditions that many people in Africa have to endure. “I still can’t believe they live in houses made of sticks and mud,” she writes.
So today, when you’re watching football on TV, look at the floors beneath you, the walls around you and the ceilings above you and be grateful. You are among the fortunate.
Not much else to report, but let’s send Allyson good wishes. Let’s hope that the Gods of Itching have mercy on her.
I know it’s been a while since the last update, but the reason is pretty simple: We’re not getting much information to share with you. It’s not Allyson’s fault, and it’s not mine. We’re both trying. But communication has proven to be much more difficult than we anticipated — or than AT&T Wireless promised it would be. The problem described in the last post persists: We’re stuck with Allyson using a pay-as-you-go cell phone that allows only about two minutes of conversation at a clip.
We’re learning to say a lot very quickly, and we’re learning that saying bye before the time runs out feels better than getting cut off before you can say it.
Both of us, as you might imagine, are frustrated by this. But I expect that she is way more frustrated than I am. I have the luxuries of home, and the ability to talk to friends and family whenever I want, but she doesn’t. So we’re trying to remedy this problem: We’ll keep beating on various phone companies until we make something happen that makes it easier for Ally to talk to me and her family and her friends when she feels like it.
The good news is that she’s found a couple of internet access spots in Shashemene, so the e-mail is coming with some frequency, and she’s grateful to everyone who’s posted comments. She sends her love to all y’all.
In an e-mail on Tuesday, she offered this description of her typical day:
Where Allyson works every day
“Every morning I take the van with the staff out to the feeding center. It’s a beautiful drive through some very green and dramatic views where you can see forever. The rift valley is not far away. On the trip I see loads of cows and goats, often herded by little tiny boys, hundreds of donkeys and horses hitched to makeshift carts. Often the donkeys are hooked up three in a row.”
This daily drive takes her to a feeding center in a town that I won’t name here, in an effort to adhere to MSF policy. But when I got the name of the town from her, I Googled it, and the first thing that came up was a photograph of the center where she’s working.
She tells me that the lines aren’t quite as long these days as they were when this shot was taken. A fall harvest holds out hope that the malnutrition problems there will lessen somewhat. This is from MSF’s latest “Month in Focus” article:
These families, who are already very poor, have been without food for many months. They have got into debt to feed themselves and some have even sold their livestock. The next harvest, expected between late September and November depending on the area, should finally provide relief.
Let’s hope they’re right. I read this, and I can’t help but think how, here in Atlanta, we’ve suffered from drought for a good while. What does this mean to our way of life? Not much more than the fact that we can’t water the roses in the front yard when we want to … or that the dock at the lake you visit on the weekends isn’t floating anymore but sitting on dry land.
It never means that we have to change our lives dramatically. It never means for us that our children’s lives are placed in danger.
I don’t say this to praise Allyson’s efforts. She’d kick my ass if that was my motive. As she’s pointed out before, she didn’t go there to win my praise or anyone else’s. She went because she felt like it was the right thing for her to do. Simple as that. But we all should remember how fortunate we are. We might have a hard time finding gas to fill the tank right now. But we’re having no trouble finding food and clean water.
It’s amazing how the same weather can blow across two different lands and leave one land’s people in grave danger and the other land’s people merely annoyed.
Thanks to Hurricane Hannah, Allyson spent a very bumpy flight to London last night. She had a few hours’ layover at Heathrow, then flew on Brussels and promptly checked into her room and crashed for a few hours, owing to an almost sleepless flight over the Atlantic.
She has the evening off tonight in Brussels. She’s about to head out for dinner right now. Just talked to her. She has a full day of briefing in Brussels tomorrow, then will leave for Africa tomorrow night.
We’ll keep you posted on her progress.
Welcome to The Ally Report: Ethiopia.
It looks different, but the purpose is the same. For those of you who were on board for the last ride back in 2004, you’ll remember The Ally Report. We’ll leave that site up for posterity, but we’re going to do the work in blog software this time. It’s easier to use — and it has the added benefit of allowing all of you to comment on each post. That means, on the rare occasions when Allyson will have Internet access, she’ll be able to check to see what guys are saying. (If you want to post a comment, all you have to do is hit the “No Comments” link above the post you want to comment on.)
The text of this post (or at least the important contextual information) will remain at the top of the blog. To revisit it, just click on “The Basics About This Blog.”
Right now, it’s Saturday night, and she’s packing. Lighter this time. She’s learned a thing or two. She leaves tomorrow afternoon on a flight to New York. One day of briefing in New York, then a flight Monday night to Brussels. A couple days of briefings in Brussels, then on to Ethiopia.
We’ll keep you posted.
