I've always been the little girl that hid behind doors growing up from ages 6 to 16. My mother thought she had it all worked out and supposedly met the man of her dreams when I was 6 years old. At first I thought he was a pretty nice guy. As time progressed, I noticed a few changes in my living situation. I was no longer allowed to open the refridgerator to get something to eat. I always had to ask to get a glass of water and go to the bathroom. I didn't really understand why my mom had chose to be with him and never said anything to him about the way he was trying to raise me. I had a younger brother that was deemed the devil child to my moms boyfriend and at 3 years old was getting his butt whooped for something totally stupid and off the record. I tried to keep myself out of trouble, but nothing seemed to work. Me and my brother were just 2 kids growing up in a house of hatred and my mother saw nothing wrong with the picture, at least I dont think she did. I got my butt whooped almost everyday and I always had to sit on my bed and I could never play with my toys. Four years had gone by and my mother decided to marry this quack when I was at school. When I got home she told me she got married and all I could do is look her dead the face and ask "WHY?" She never told me, but then I moved to a different house and things didn't get any better. I was always in trouble as was my brother. When I turned 11, things started to change, I wasn't getting my butt whooped as much but I can't say much for my brother. I was molested beyond repair and I tried to tell my mother, but she didnt seem to believe me. I then, had a wonderful and awesome friend that let me confide in them and I told her everything. She had taken in as much as she could until one night, my brother got into trouble for something totally stupid and got his butt whooped and my mom wasnt home and her "husband" wouldn't stop hitting him, I tried my best to yell at him to stop but that did not work. When I got to school the next day, I told my friend everything and she went with me to the office because she quote "had had enough of this bullsh*t." And that day my life changed, something inside me told me what I had to do. Later on that day, my mother arrived at my school and I had to go to the police station and file a report and record a testimony and everything. Her "husband" was arrested and told to leave the premises. I thought things were going to be better, but they got worse, I got blamed for ruining her life and I didn't feel accepted at home anymore. So, I started looking in to other options for myself, rather than running away because I knew in my heart that I wanted to finish high school. I sat my mother down one day and told her that I wanted to join the National Guard at 17 years old. She signed the papers and I was on my way. Before I left for Basic Training I met a remarkable person and fell in love with him to this day. He is the love of my life and I would do anything for him. I then went to basic training, all the while still dating him, so yes, i have been in a long distance relationship for 3 months. It was hard but I stuck it out. Then I returned to school and completed high school and recieved my diploma. I was very proud of myself. I mean I had my life set and a career and a fresh start for college because the guard paid 100% tuition. I had it made, BUT then something tragic happened, I was ran over by a car and I lost my career due to my leg having a huge hole and myself not being able to complete training, (this happened a year ago), but I'm trying my best to get my leg to its fullest extent of therapy. It will never be like the other leg, but I know that now. I currently just went back to work and am living my life day to day, not taking sh*t from anyone and loving my family and friends that are there for me.� I know this entry may seem way too long, but the title "Growing up is hard to do" is what I am trying to emphasize on.� No matter what happens in life, whether it be growing up in a messed up world like me or growing up without parents and on the street, everybody is different and sometimes it takes longer to "grow up" persay than most. I know it took me 19 years and it'll prolly still take me til I pass to figure out that I never stop learning or growing up, but I may reach a medium. So for all� you bloggers out there, I just wanted to say, hang in there, it'll get worse before it gets better. And if you ever see something wrong with how your friends are being treated, please be there for them. It helps out a tremendous amount and you'll be glad that you did it!
Thank you
Alyssa
Ok the first entry wasent really a entry it was a bio
Today school was pretty ok yeah
13 days till dean gets out�
Omg my brother is being totally stupid�
�at school there is this girl named tahila and me and my Bffs Chloe G and CHloe W
Yeah well anyways me and my bffs play this game its were we drawed a big apartment in dirt with beds and everything and its out secret game and then tahila goes out and tells Hannah,Lannie and somebody else i forgot and they drawed all over our dirt apartment and that was like weeks ago
So today Chloe G [My bff] has been hugging her and talking to her im so angry�
Yeah she is sleeping over on the 17th of october
My teacher said Dumb actually means you cant talk so this dude in my class goes well im dumb and i said Good we wont have to hear your voice again�
Today me and my friends were being stupid at reading time and our old teacher made us paper tiaras and we are like walkin around the classroom and runnign around and chloe G was putting water on the bean bags in the reading corner and we wre doing handwriting and one of the sentences were something about jelly beans and chloe�shouted out I like jellybeans
OK Just so you know for chloe G im just gonna put chloe and for chloe W im going to put chloe W�
and we were on the equipment and there is logs around it and chloe was balancing on them and then she was about to step on this huge lizard so she quickly jumped to the cement balancing thing and she shouted out That scared the F**k out of me and i was like cracking up laughing
Im 9 years old but me and my friends act like we are 15�
and me and chloe get tissues and go outside the room cause it looks like we are blowing our noses but we are actually running up and down the halls and looking out the windows because we are upstairs�
there are workers working at my school they are painting the school and they blocked off the way we usally go up to get upstaits and its funny because me and chloe and chloe W went out the wrong door and we were in the blocked off area and we are like omg how did we get here and we just ran out of the blocked off area
Im going to be a singer when i grow up because i can sing really good yeah and there is a thing were at our school we are having a mini idol like austrilan idol and chloe w auditioned today and she took in chloe with her because ur aloud to take in one friend and i was like waiting getting really bored�i am a really good singer but i cant sing in front of anyone besides my family and chloe�and thats the bad thing about my singing
I am in love Oops i wasent supposed to write that down but aww well
Im like half vegitarian cause i hate sea food and i think its cruel but i like meat�
well i dunno what to wrtie soo bye bye
I love my fans
If i have any?
not to copy gavin degraw but "i'm in love with a girl" or at least i am falling for her.� i mean if this girl isn't perfect she is damn close to it.� the only thing that i don't like about her is that she likes to drink and party and as for me i don't care for either one.�now i know for she she likes to party but i am not to sure about the drinking.� she is beautiful, fit, and smart.� most of all one of her favorite things to do is to play basketball and i love to play basketball, that is a real plus.� now i have noticed her before this air but never have i talked to her and now this year we are actually co-workers while in school.� and because of that we are talking more to each other.� but we did play basketball togather today and we do get along well.
Hello there anyone listening? Anyways� thought that I should put my words on a journal like this so I have benn searching and I found this site. I hope that it will be able to keep all I have to think and anytime I look back at it willremind me of what I wrote.
ok so im trying really trying to get my life together. i need to pay off all my debt get a car and get into school. and oh yeah lose a hundred and eleven lbs. im over weight ive lost 24 lbs but thats just because i moved into an apartment and my body wasnt used to walking up and down 3 flights of stairs to get to and from the third floor...well guess what?! its used to it now! this sucks.
A month ago I woke up and my word came to a shattering hault as i looded upon the face of a breathless 6 month old baby girl.� Once so full of life, and movement, I saw only stillness.� Then came the panic, the fear, the saddness and anger all crashing down one me.� It is so strange, after a flood of almost every single emotion, to not feel any joy at all.� In fact, I cannot fathom joy.� Only pain, and lonliness.
Its been a tiring week, not only physically, but also im emotionally exhausted. Adding up with im finally drained, what im gonna do.. can someday help me to get my self again.
Because they told me that they are about to close the store. Then I accepted their behaviour and decided to seek another store in the same area. Outside was rainy at the moment and I didnt have my umbrella with me. So you think that I got wet? No, surprisingly enough the rain couldnt catch me and make me wet.After too much search I finally found another store and got into it.So the story goes like this.I have� a lot to tell you but now not much space for it on this paper.My computer is running out of space.
7th October 2008
First full day!! Ah! Arrived this morning at 05hrs Ethiopian time (which I believe is 03hrs UK time). The flight was delayed by 2 hours from Heathrow due to engineering checks. I managed to get my 32kg luggage on without further charge, despite the 20kg maximum, by playing the charity card, but was not so successful with the upgrade. The flight was absolutely full.
�
We arrived and were directed to the correct baggage reclaiming gate and then I checked in with the visa office officials. I managed to jump the queue as I had already organised mine and proceeded, less the comfort of the crowd, to the customs. There were men and women sleeping all over the place. Locals. They did not appear to be waiting for a flight, more like they had no where else to go! It was a bit worrying as men would appear from no where and would take my documents to look at, before moving me on. I had to trust that they were officials, as there seemed to be no uniform in place! I needed to change my currency in case I had to pay the hotel pick-up but the bank window had a board over the cash hole. I questioned one of the men, who understood english, and he assured me it was open. I explained that no one was there, but he laughed and said, knock on the window – some one is there. I wandered back over and sure enough, I found another sleeping Ethiopian. So I knocked. Nothing. I knocked harder and I saw him judder, but still nothing. Determined to get my money, I wrapped even harder and this time he peered out from under his scarf which had been covering his face. Once he had decided he was awake, he came over with a little glint in his eye, as if he had just been in the act! I greeted him like I was his morning call, and we proceeded to get my money changed!
I was concerned that my arranged pick-up from the hotel would not be waiting as the time had lapsed. But on walking back to join the travellers who had arrived, I was met by a young lady who asked if I was Julia. Still on my guard, I half smiled and checked which hotel. She answered, Ghion hotel. Ah – so that's how I pronounce it, with a hard 'G'. I acknowledged it was me and we made our way out of the airport with her (half the size of Lisa) struggling with my case!
On the way to the bus, she enquired about my stay. I explained that I was staying in Addis for a few days before heading for ASCO's Childrens' Home for 6 months. A broad smile appeared on her face. She knew of ASCO and wondered how I did. I explained the connection via a friend from work and my communications with Sister Maria. It was then that she asked if I was meeting up with anyone whilst in town. When I said I wasn't, she offered to show me around the city if I was interested and gave me her name and mobile number. This was a good start. Friendly and kind. I was feeling good.
On the journey to the hotel, I was struck by how unbelievably quiet everywhere was. At this time in Thailand or Vietnam it would be bussling by now with stall holders and delivery vehicles. I could not even see any street sleepers, although it was dark.
I arrived and checked into my room. The first room that I was shown was already occupied judging by the two false legs that lay on the floor as we entered! Once I had been reallocated, the porter, who by now was getting justifiably pissed off with my case, hung around uncomfortably for a tip. Normally, I do not tip until I know what is a relative amount. In the end he said 'one'? One? Well, as he'd struggled so much with my case, I dived into my belt bag and gave him one Birr. He looked at it as if it was dirt on his shoe and wandered off down the hall, muttering to himself. Later it occurred to me, he was probably asking for one US dollar! That'll be a black mark against my name!
The room is basic and the bathroom reeks of stink-bombs. I was reluctant to walk around bare footed and I slept in my kaftan, to try and ward off the fleas! I was shattered from the journey, but I was conscious that I needed to let people know I was safe and well. I started to send a round robin text message only to discover that all SMS's were barred from my phone. Barred? What the hell is going on there then? I then discovered the room had internet connection. So I set about sending mail to those who were by now getting anxious.
I crashed for a good seven hours waking up to a brilliantly bright day, and discovering that none of my mails had got through either! I tried the mails again, and decided to call mum as I felt by now she'd be close to having a nervous breakdown! Good move. She was! Releived to hear from me and to hear me smile, we tried the mails again and succeeded. I asked her to send messages out to Roger and Stu as they too were getting anxious. Eventually, I received contact from Stu who said he was doing fine, even caught a train using the machine for local currency, but it was raining and he was tired.
I was aware by now that I was starting to find things to do in order to put off going out of the comfort of my room. I remember that the hotel website said there was room service. So in the absence of any literature in the room, I dialled zero – nothing. One? Nothing. One hundred? Still nothing, although I was glad about that as I wasn't sure if I was dialling-out at this stage!
Ok. give up on that idea. I know, lets have a bath, or a shower. My hair is wild and I remember reading that a bath is good after a long flight. No hot water. Too late in the day? Only hot water on Sundays? I resorted to a cold sink wash, which included the wild hair.
Then I pottered. And pottered. And pottered some more until eventually, I could put it off no longer and I bit the bullet and ventured out of the comfort zone of my room.
First port of call was to ask for a room with a balcony. A balcony? What is this strange word? I explained that on their website they advertise rooms with balconies. You know – window in your room, opens up to a balcony? Ah yes – a balcony. Bingo! How long are you staying? Five days maybe? They are all taken. That's a 'no' then. I should have said six months!!
Ok. The next thing is to store my valuables in the hotel safe. May I put something in your free safe? Later, came the reply. Great. Now I have to walk around with a wadge of cash in my bag.
Where can I get a coffee? Over there in the bar. Shall I, I thought to myself? Maybe I should wander around the hotel first or I will find myself not wanting to go anywhere! I know what, I'll just follow these local girls as having arrived in the dark, I was not sure of my bearings and the hotel grounds seemed to be huge. Oh look – there is a garden over there. Let's wander through there. Oh shit. There's at least five men who have appeared from – from where? The bushes? Surely not – but still, they're there, leering and jeering. I have started to walk into this garden now, so I can't turn back without looking scared. Keep going, Julie. Hold your head up. Oh look – there's a path leading out of the garden. Thank god.
I find the exit gates of the hotel grounds. Everyone is staring. I feel like a walking vagina and money tree. A walking wealthy vagina. A WWV! I remember from the map in my book that if I turn right it will lead me to some food stops. I take the first right. It is dusty. And busy. Mostly with men. The places I see look like local venues. There would be no english spoken at these places at all. Besides, only men are sat there. I'll be eaten alive! I keep on walking determined not to look like a WWV. Too late. A child beggar spots me. Food. Food. Please? Please? Shit. What is the word for 'no'? Oh yeah – aye. Aye! Oh no. I have just done the worst thing I could have done. I have opened up a dialogue. Just keep looking ahead. Pretend he is not there. He's not taking the hint. When is he going to go? How the hell am I going to shake him off?
Oh my god, there's another one! I am now looking like the Pied Piper of street beggars as well as a WWV!
I realise that I have finally lost the first boy who I presume has respected his mate's begging territory. He then continues where the other one finishes, like a relay, which continues on to the next and the next – each one becoming more and more crippled. I learn quickly not to look and engage eye contact. What a cruel world it is? One boy is curled up in the foetal position so tightly that I struggle to work out which end is head is at. He looks as if he regularly gets a kicking, and I presume this is why he is postioned the way he is. Another vision is of two young boys huddled under a tree. One of the boys had wet himself and it was trickling down the pavement. He didn't seem bothered.
I am aware that despite my determination to act cool, I have picked up quite a pace. Two of the places mentioned in my book arrive and pass before I have time to check them out. But what I do manage to see is that they are still only occupied by men. There is no way I am opening myself up to any conversation. No sir-ee!
I spot a hotel - the Ethiopian hotel. That looks a bit safer. Shall I? Shan't I? Some one is beeping at me. I loose my bottle and walk on. How rubbish am I? I notice that the beep is coming from a taxi by the hotel. Mental log. If all else fails, I can come back and take a taxi back to my hotel.
Before I know it, I am being spoken to: Where are you from? I know Stratford. Is that dress from India? You look lost. How many days are you here? Are you staying at the Sheraton Hotel?
He may well have spoken perfect English, but that has done it. I do an about turn and get back to the taxi quicker than you can say WWV or PP! I pay the man 50 Birr, which my gut instinct tells me is a rip off, but I don't care. I get to my room and I collapse on the bed. I know I have to walk a couple of short flights of stairs to my room, but I am aware that my heart is clambering to get out of my mouth!
I regain some form of composure, and try and gather my thoughts about the last hour or so. OK Walker, you need to get your shit together. Maybe assuming that I could filter in with the locals in their city was a bit na�ve and foolish. Do I need to get some clothes-shopping? Not any more! Do I need to stay for a week here in Addis? Not at all!! But, whilst I am here, I shall grab a taxi everywhere and eat in the hotel. And there is always the offer from Akele, the night receptionist, which has got to make me feel better about the place.
So, I dusted myself off, grabbed my key and retired to the hotel bar with a coffee and bottled water. After a good while writing my diary, it occurred to me that I still had not eaten. I order from the typically english abroad style menu 'fried potato' in the hope that it might be something local. I ended up with chips! I demolished half the plate before realising I was eating with my left hand! Ah!
I've consumed six (espresso sized) coffees and now need a pee and a 'behind closed doors' cigarette! So I will retire to my room to learn some much needed Ethiopian!!!
I ventured into the hotel restaurant in the evening. I tried to find the local one but discovered that it is at the rear of the western one – by which time, I had sat down and ordered! However, at the end of the meal, I enquired if it would be ok for me to just have a drink in the local restaurant, which it was (I am sure aided by my 10% tip! Have made a decision about the tip situ. The wages are so low for these guys, that I am sure anything extra must go a long way. Plus – I feel liked!! lol!).
The local restaurant is brilliant! It is of solid wooden construction immitating a large teepee and filled with smoke to increase its authenticity. I tried to take a few pics but the smoke acted as a veil. On tuesday's, thursday's and saturday's there is traditional live music and dancing. Guess what? I only knew some of the songs from my CD!! how cool was that! The problem was trying not to get too excited and jumping up to dance!!
after a while, I realised that I was wearing exactly the same outfit as each member of the male band – beige tunic and white trousers with a beige wrap! I must look like such an anomally to the Ethiopians. Firstly I am a female sitting and drinking (albeit coffees) on my own and then I dress the same as the men! Hopefully, if I remain 'outside the box' the guys will give me a wide berth! They might even think I bat for the other side! Lol!
After a good hour or so, other people started to disappear leaving me alone in the restaurant, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable. As I still had a drink, I got out my diary in an attempt to shake off the image that I might be a lady of the night! When it felt right, I left the band a tip (its customary, but it also feels good!) and returned to my room.
On the way up, I enquired about the elusive hot water. Apparently, if I leave it to run for 10 minutes, it appears! My first reaction was – what a waste of water in a country where water is such a premium! But I suppose they also do not have the resources to change this. What a cruel trick?
I also discovered how to get room service: 5204. of course! Why didn't I think of that!! with this knowledge in hand, I ordered a small bottle of Ethiopian red wine – and very nice it was too – and enjoyed a nice glass and a cigarette in the safety of my little room!!
Goodnight!!
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MrsTejan83 40, Female, Missouri, USA - 15 entries