Bandits

I saved this post until after we got back from our trip to the
countryside so as not to deliver unnecessary anxiety to my loved ones.
This is a story one of our Ethiopian colleagues, Geb, told over lunch
and I thought I'd share it, followed by my own similar experience.

Geb said he had experienced a miracle a few years ago. At that time, Geb
and his driver were heading back to Addis Ababa from Dire Dewa, the
large city in west Ethiopia, down the only road between the two places
when a man appeared up ahead and waved frantically for them to stop
their car. Geb told his driver to keep driving past the man for fear
that it was a trick by bandits to stop the car. The driver agreed, but
as they neared the man they could see the real fear in his eyes.
Convinced by this, the driver slowed and stopped the car. Indeed, the
message was of vital importance. The man began to tell them a fierce
battle had broken out between people of Oromia and Amhara just up ahead
in the town of Mieso. Geb listened closely and could hear bullets being
fired. The battle was just 15 km up the road and they were advised to
either stay and wait or go back and stay somewhere for the night and see
how things turned out. They decided to drive a few miles back to Asbe
Teferi and spend the night there. Luckily the fighting didn't last too
long, and soon the road was reopened and lined with guards. Geb
considers it a true miracle that they stopped the car against their
first instinct and listen to the man trying to warn them, for otherwise
they would surely have driven straight into harm's way.

I had a similar experience in India, although I was in a large bus. I
was 19 years old at the time and probably did not appreciate the
seriousness of the situation at the time, although hearing Geb's story
made me reconsider. Our bus had stopped and someone informed us that we
would have to backtrack and take a detour due to a dispute on the road
up ahead. We had been scheduled to arrive at our guest house before
nightfall, but with the new route we would not arrive until almost 9pm
and would have to take a road where a bus full of Buddhist nuns had been
robbed and their driver killed only a month before. Since our group was
a mix of American students and Indian locals, all the Americans were
told to sit on the left side of the aisle and the Indians on the right.
Then they opened all the windows part-way on the right side and the
Indians sat close to the windows while they played the newest Bollywood
music at high volume; this way the bus looked like locals that would
have little to offer any bandits on the road. I remember being scared
but distracting myself by talking to my classmates. We were eventually
delivered safely to our guest house and after a few days the incident
was no longer a topic of conversation, but I realize now the miracle
that occurred and the latent gratitude I have for whomever stopped and
warned our bus driver of the danger ahead.