On Wednesday we left the hotel around 8:30 and headed to the Lewi Cafe for breakfast. Dereje had injera with a tomato sauce, since Wednesday is a fasting day (so no meat allowed), T had a ham and cheese sandwich and I ordered a Spanish omelet; I had to wait a little longer for my dish, but it proved to be worth it in the end.
After breakfast, we checked out a relatively new and somewhat well-known orthodox cathedral in town, and then stopped by Lake Awasa where a few people were fishing offshore, out past the reeds. Before leaving Awasa, we stopped at a street stall selling leather goods where Dereje bought a new belt and T bought a new wallet and a coin pouch.
The drive back to Addis from Awasa is about 4 hours, so we stopped a few places on the way. The first stop was a resort that was sadly closed down earlier this year. The original owner grew up poor but became a successful hotel owner, running numerous places in the Rift Valley. Apparently he left the hotels to his children who ran them into the ground, and the hotel we stopped at was being auctioned off later that week for $9 million. Outside the hotel grounds, which takes up lakeside space with various cottages and a beach, complete with volleyball net, there were families that had make a living from the guests who would spend the day at the lake and then stay at cheaper accommodation nearby. Now that the hotel is closed and no customers will be coming, the place looked slightly deserted. One restaurant we passed was especially heart-breaking, with a sign out front that said Pizzaria, and a massive wood-burning pizza oven outdoors near some tables.
Dereje suggested we check out Sabana next, another resort hotel, but a new one that was looking prosperous already. During a walk through the grounds, we discovered an enclosed area with two giant tortoises and a baby, one which was kind enough to walk around very slowly for us. As we continued our walk, I noticed that even though it was the off-season, there were a dozen people staying there, some enjoying the lakeside beachfront. There was a park near the beach with a ping-pong table, which Dereje and I played on, and then we climbed the trees and posed for some pictures which T kindly took. After that, we headed up to the posh restaurant on the grounds that served excellent dishes, like the ricotta cheese & spinach stuffed pasta shells I had.
We left Sabana and drove another two hours before stopping in Debra Zeit at the Dreamland hotel for a drink in their outdoor cafe overlooking a huge caldera lake, formed long ago by volcanic activity. It was a fun way to end the day before getting back to Addis...just in time for dinner.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Beshu Hotel
You know in the movies where a white man, like Michael Caine, confronts some ancient tribe and is put on a throne and made king? We took the students out to dinner again last night and they sat us at the head of the table and went on and on about how wonderful it was of us to treat them to dinner -- even though it amounted to only about $1 per person. We did all eat like kings though, with platters of kitfo, tibbs and a variety of other wat stews, plus a few cases of beer and soft drinks. After dinner, we had a coffee ceremony performed by a young lady from Tigray, Her hair was pulled back, but she had a gold ring hanging at her hairline from a center braid.
It was the end to a great day. The second water supply facility we visited was completely gravity-operated so that the intake was directly from a rushing river, from which the pressure pushed the water through the treatment facility and then out to customers. That means the location of the facility was upriver near the mountains, located beyond lush coffee groves. On the way, we drove past people drying coffee berries, so Dereje stopped the car and a woman gave us a handful of them. T peeled on open and, indeed, there was a pale, raw coffee bean inside. This area of Ethiopia is known for the best coffee available (think Starbucks Sidamo), so I couldn't help but to imagine those berries being dried, processed, roasted and eventually shipped to cafes around the world.
It was the end to a great day. The second water supply facility we visited was completely gravity-operated so that the intake was directly from a rushing river, from which the pressure pushed the water through the treatment facility and then out to customers. That means the location of the facility was upriver near the mountains, located beyond lush coffee groves. On the way, we drove past people drying coffee berries, so Dereje stopped the car and a woman gave us a handful of them. T peeled on open and, indeed, there was a pale, raw coffee bean inside. This area of Ethiopia is known for the best coffee available (think Starbucks Sidamo), so I couldn't help but to imagine those berries being dried, processed, roasted and eventually shipped to cafes around the world.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Field Trip: Day Two - Shashemene
We left Meseret Hotel at 7:30 to get breakfast at Azeb Restaurant (or, in Oromian, spelled Reestooranti). After some scrambled eggs and a macchiato, we headed down to Shashemene to see the treatment facility there. I'd been interested to visit Shashemene since reading about it in my guidebook, which says that in 1948 Ethiopian Emperor, Haile Selassie, granted land here to settlers from Jamaica, notably to members of the Rastafari movement, who eventually came in the 1960s. (A quick background breakdown: before becoming Emperor, Haile Selassie's given name was Tafari, or Prince Tafari. In Amharic, Ras means Prince. Hence, Ras Tafari. See the connection?) Apparently, the community has only about 200 settlers now, so unfortunately we didn't notice anything even remotely related to this when we passed through town on the way to our field visits. When I asked Dereje, a devout Orthodox Christian, about the Rasta belief that Haile Selassie was "the second coming", he simply said, "He was a man and a politician."
However, we were amazed by the scenery driving up to the river and intake facility. Driving down a path lined with towering trees on both sides, it seemed like an approach to a Buddhist temple in Japan. The serenity of the area was overwhelming. When we stopped and got out of the car, a group of children approached us. However, unlike in the city, where kids will often beg for money, these kids wanted to say hello and have us to take their picture. I snapped a few shots and they excitedly looked at the results and laughed and cheered, posing for more pictures as we headed to the riverside.
After the instructors gave a brief lecture, we left that site and headed to the treatment facility 1.5 km away, to where the water is taken by gravitational force alone. There is it pumped through the sediment tanks and aerator, and through chemical treatment before supplied to the town.
I took a bit extra time exploring the chemical treatment facility, videotaping the upper floor of the facility, so I was the last one back downstairs. When I went to exit, however, I found that the door had been locked from the outside! Feeling like a kid stuffed in a locker at school, I called T on his cellphone and a guard rushed over to open the door, apologizing for the mistake. Maybe now I can say that I got locked up in the Shashemene monkey house if I ever need to prove my street cred!
However, we were amazed by the scenery driving up to the river and intake facility. Driving down a path lined with towering trees on both sides, it seemed like an approach to a Buddhist temple in Japan. The serenity of the area was overwhelming. When we stopped and got out of the car, a group of children approached us. However, unlike in the city, where kids will often beg for money, these kids wanted to say hello and have us to take their picture. I snapped a few shots and they excitedly looked at the results and laughed and cheered, posing for more pictures as we headed to the riverside.
After the instructors gave a brief lecture, we left that site and headed to the treatment facility 1.5 km away, to where the water is taken by gravitational force alone. There is it pumped through the sediment tanks and aerator, and through chemical treatment before supplied to the town.
I took a bit extra time exploring the chemical treatment facility, videotaping the upper floor of the facility, so I was the last one back downstairs. When I went to exit, however, I found that the door had been locked from the outside! Feeling like a kid stuffed in a locker at school, I called T on his cellphone and a guard rushed over to open the door, apologizing for the mistake. Maybe now I can say that I got locked up in the Shashemene monkey house if I ever need to prove my street cred!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Under the Hood
Our hotel in Awasa, Gebrekristos Hotel, is a bit more expensive than
the hotel in Ziway, but that still means it's only $10. When we walked
in, T commented that it was a good sign that there were a couple
cleaning people at work. The people at the front desk were friendly and
professional, and we liked the rooms too. We decided to rest for a
couple hours before dinner, so I got my things from the car and took a
short nap.
When I awoke, I "used the facilities", but when I went to flush the
toilet (nope, no frog this time), I noticed there was no handle. The top
was already removed from the water tank, and I saw there was a sort of
pole sticking up, and also the floating device that measures the water
level. I tried pulling up the floating device, but instead of triggering
the flush, the thing came off in my hand and water started spraying out.
I quickly twisted it back on, but there was a steady leak. (Then I tried
the pole, and that worked).
Slightly embarrassed, I called Dereje, who had no better luck, so he
called down to the front desk. A few minutes later an attendant wearing
a tie and a technician in overalls came up. The technician had a
hacksaw, a file and a screwdriver, but he set these things down and
never had to use them. In about 90 seconds, he reattached the floating
head to the metal rod, put the plastic fastener back together with a
washer, pulled some twine out of his pocket, and tightened everything
back on. Good as...well, not new, but good enough. "Great!" I exclaimed,
glad they didn't ask who pulled the thing off to begin with.
the hotel in Ziway, but that still means it's only $10. When we walked
in, T commented that it was a good sign that there were a couple
cleaning people at work. The people at the front desk were friendly and
professional, and we liked the rooms too. We decided to rest for a
couple hours before dinner, so I got my things from the car and took a
short nap.
When I awoke, I "used the facilities", but when I went to flush the
toilet (nope, no frog this time), I noticed there was no handle. The top
was already removed from the water tank, and I saw there was a sort of
pole sticking up, and also the floating device that measures the water
level. I tried pulling up the floating device, but instead of triggering
the flush, the thing came off in my hand and water started spraying out.
I quickly twisted it back on, but there was a steady leak. (Then I tried
the pole, and that worked).
Slightly embarrassed, I called Dereje, who had no better luck, so he
called down to the front desk. A few minutes later an attendant wearing
a tie and a technician in overalls came up. The technician had a
hacksaw, a file and a screwdriver, but he set these things down and
never had to use them. In about 90 seconds, he reattached the floating
head to the metal rod, put the plastic fastener back together with a
washer, pulled some twine out of his pocket, and tightened everything
back on. Good as...well, not new, but good enough. "Great!" I exclaimed,
glad they didn't ask who pulled the thing off to begin with.
Life Story
When people name their kids in America, they often chose a name because they like the sound of it, or use the name of a relative. In Japan, they do the same, but they also take the kanji character(s) that will be used into serious consideration, wanting to convey a positive message, and sometimes a certain number of brush strokes.
In Ethiopia, some people name their children after people in the Bible, such as Dewit (David) and Yared (a 6th century musician and, later, saint), but many of the names have meanings related to what the parents are experiencing/feeling at the time. This differs to the American and Japanese examples, because there seems to be more emphasis on the parents. For example, Dereje said his name means prosperity, so maybe his parents felt things were going well for them at that point. His oldest brother's name is light (a form of the verb to shine), since they must've felt he was a gift from Heaven. Then the next child was a girl, and maybe feeling the same way, they just went ahead and named her Heaven, followed by Dereje/Prosperity. In the 70s, they had a girl they named "to replace" the old with the new. This was in reference to the Socialist government that had just come into power and replaced all the old officials (and, apparently, their hope of prosperity). The next child, a son, was named Sintayehu, meaning I have seen so much. The youngest two brothers are named Dewit and Yared, but he said his parents didn't chose these names. After the children were born, the neighbors began calling them by these names, and his parents simply agreed!
For Dereje's own daughters, his first one's name means in thanks to God, because he said he had gone through some troublesome times before that, and felt deep gratitude to God to deliver him to that happy point in his life. His second daughter's name, Eden, which is in reference to the biblical place and which Dereje considers to mean heaven, was actually suggested to him by his brother (possibly an ode to his sister Heaven, who died tragically young). Considering that Ethiopian families are quite large, it's interesting to imagine the reason they choose certain names; it's as if children are literally their life story.
In Ethiopia, some people name their children after people in the Bible, such as Dewit (David) and Yared (a 6th century musician and, later, saint), but many of the names have meanings related to what the parents are experiencing/feeling at the time. This differs to the American and Japanese examples, because there seems to be more emphasis on the parents. For example, Dereje said his name means prosperity, so maybe his parents felt things were going well for them at that point. His oldest brother's name is light (a form of the verb to shine), since they must've felt he was a gift from Heaven. Then the next child was a girl, and maybe feeling the same way, they just went ahead and named her Heaven, followed by Dereje/Prosperity. In the 70s, they had a girl they named "to replace" the old with the new. This was in reference to the Socialist government that had just come into power and replaced all the old officials (and, apparently, their hope of prosperity). The next child, a son, was named Sintayehu, meaning I have seen so much. The youngest two brothers are named Dewit and Yared, but he said his parents didn't chose these names. After the children were born, the neighbors began calling them by these names, and his parents simply agreed!
For Dereje's own daughters, his first one's name means in thanks to God, because he said he had gone through some troublesome times before that, and felt deep gratitude to God to deliver him to that happy point in his life. His second daughter's name, Eden, which is in reference to the biblical place and which Dereje considers to mean heaven, was actually suggested to him by his brother (possibly an ode to his sister Heaven, who died tragically young). Considering that Ethiopian families are quite large, it's interesting to imagine the reason they choose certain names; it's as if children are literally their life story.
Critters
Before we left Addis, T said he wanted to buy some insect repellent to spray in the hotel rooms in the countryside. That's partially my fault because I told him that when J and I went to Awasa last time, she was bitten up on her arms. We managed to find some spray, threw it in the back of the car and headed off.
When we arrived at the hotel, before going out for dinner, we took turns spraying our rooms. I sprayed in the bathroom, in the corners and under the bed, since I still remembered the "roach motel" in Gondar last year. Then I gave the spray to T and he did the same.
Later, when we got back from dinner, I walked into my room to find it reeked of insect repellent. I opened the window and used the curtains to get some air circulating. After a while, the room seemed a bit better, and with the mosquito net, I think I was fine.
The next morning, T said he had sprayed too much as well, and he ended up sleeping with a wet cloth over his mouth! He said he didn't want to open the window since mosquitoes and flies would come in. Then, remembering I had told him about my surprise visitor, he added, "not to mention the frog that jumped in through your window."
Luckily, the hotel we found in Awasa seems to be very clean and critter-free.
When we arrived at the hotel, before going out for dinner, we took turns spraying our rooms. I sprayed in the bathroom, in the corners and under the bed, since I still remembered the "roach motel" in Gondar last year. Then I gave the spray to T and he did the same.
Later, when we got back from dinner, I walked into my room to find it reeked of insect repellent. I opened the window and used the curtains to get some air circulating. After a while, the room seemed a bit better, and with the mosquito net, I think I was fine.
The next morning, T said he had sprayed too much as well, and he ended up sleeping with a wet cloth over his mouth! He said he didn't want to open the window since mosquitoes and flies would come in. Then, remembering I had told him about my surprise visitor, he added, "not to mention the frog that jumped in through your window."
Luckily, the hotel we found in Awasa seems to be very clean and critter-free.
Stocking Feet
At 6am, I crawl out from under the mosquito net and wander to the
bathroom in my stocking feet. I flip on the light, and heed the call of
nature. A moment later, I lean in to pull the silver handle, when I
notice, in the corner, near the shower, there is some sort of rock on
the floor. I lean in further and squint my eyes, when the "rock"
suddenly moves. It's legs struggle to push it forward, but it doesn't
get very far. Resisting a near heart attack, I let out a yelp and reel
back slightly. It sloppily jumps again and I scoot out quickly and put
on my shoes. Then, with a little more courage, I go back in and confirm,
yes, there's a small, spotted amphibian in my bathroom, commonly known
as a frog. I stomp my foot and he jumps again. Later, he poses for a few
photos, stars in a home video, and then returns to his "dressing room"
behind the waste basket.
bathroom in my stocking feet. I flip on the light, and heed the call of
nature. A moment later, I lean in to pull the silver handle, when I
notice, in the corner, near the shower, there is some sort of rock on
the floor. I lean in further and squint my eyes, when the "rock"
suddenly moves. It's legs struggle to push it forward, but it doesn't
get very far. Resisting a near heart attack, I let out a yelp and reel
back slightly. It sloppily jumps again and I scoot out quickly and put
on my shoes. Then, with a little more courage, I go back in and confirm,
yes, there's a small, spotted amphibian in my bathroom, commonly known
as a frog. I stomp my foot and he jumps again. Later, he poses for a few
photos, stars in a home video, and then returns to his "dressing room"
behind the waste basket.
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