A fruit seller at the Chinese Market, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, August 2026

It is hard to believe that almost two weeks have already passed since I arrived in Addis Ababa.

In some ways, it feels as though I landed only yesterday. In others, the days have been so full that it already feels like I have been here much longer.

Starting a new assignment is always an interesting experience.

There is the professional side of it: understanding a new context, meeting colleagues, learning new procedures, discovering how a new office functions and gradually finding one's place within the team. Every country is different, every humanitarian operation has its own character, and every new posting comes with its own learning curve.

Then there is everything else.

Finding a flat that will become home for the next few years. Unpacking boxes that have travelled halfway around the world. Deciding where the books should go, where to hang photographs, and how to make an unfamiliar apartment slowly begin to feel like home.

I have spent many evenings doing exactly that.

There is something surprisingly satisfying about these small routines. Buying kitchen utensils, choosing a few plants, learning where to buy groceries, discovering a favourite café, figuring out which roads are best avoided during rush hour. They are ordinary things, yet they quietly transform a city from somewhere you happen to be into somewhere you actually live.

And then there is Addis Ababa itself.

Every day reveals something new.

Bustling streets filled with life. The aroma of freshly roasted coffee drifting from cafés. The sound of construction, traffic and conversation blending into the rhythm of a city that seems constantly on the move. Green hills appearing unexpectedly between neighbourhoods. Markets, restaurants, parks and countless corners still waiting to be explored.

I know I have only just begun getting to know Ethiopia.

That is perhaps the most exciting part.

One thing that has already made me smile more than once is how wonderfully small the humanitarian world can be.

Within days of arriving, I found myself unexpectedly meeting people I knew from previous deployments. Friends from years spent in other countries, colleagues I had not seen for a long time, familiar faces appearing in completely unexpected places.

After moving between humanitarian responses for many years, you begin to realise that the world is enormous—and remarkably small at the same time.

Those unexpected reunions have made arriving here feel easier.

Professionally, the days have been busy.

There is an enormous amount to learn, countless meetings, new priorities to understand and many people to meet. At times it feels like drinking from a fire hose—trying to absorb as much information as possible while also beginning to contribute.

But I enjoy this stage.

There is a particular energy that comes with beginnings.

Every conversation teaches me something new.

Every meeting helps me understand the country a little better.

Every walk through the city makes Addis Ababa feel just a little more familiar.

People often ask me whether it becomes easier to move from one country to another after doing it several times.

In some ways, yes.

You learn that home is not created overnight. It grows slowly, through routines, friendships and small everyday moments.

You also learn to embrace the uncertainty that every new beginning brings.

So here I am.

Nearly two weeks into a new chapter.

Still learning.

Still exploring.

Still occasionally getting lost.

But already feeling excited about everything that lies ahead.

I have a feeling Addis Ababa and Ethiopia have many stories waiting to be discovered.

I look forward to sharing them with you.