Tonight I had dinner with 7 of my colleagues at Gati Thai to celebrate
the arrival of our GIS expert L, whom I haven't seen for about 6 months,
and my return to Japan tomorrow. We ordered a couple rounds of Dashen
beer and a dozen Thai dishes. The excellent food didn't last long, nor
did the beer. It was nice to get together with everyone before leaving,
and people bid me a safe and comfortable trip. As my time in Ethiopia is
nearly at an end, I'm not sure when my next visit will be, but possibly
later this year. For now though, with less than 24 hours till departure,
it's time to check-in online!
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Hotel Hike
Malawi's president has been named the leader of the African Union today
at the AU Summit in Addis Ababa. Also, Ban Ki-Moon visited the summit
today to speak out against violence against women in conflict areas. All
of this going on just down the road from me, which also explains why
every hotel and guesthouse in the city is booked solid and rates have
been hiked up. I'm still paying the regular rate at my hotel since I've
been here the entire month, but I heard some hotels which usually cost
around $60 per night have hiked their prices to over $100 per night. The
Ambassador, which is supposedly one of the nicest in the city, is up to
$150 I heard; I don't even want to think what the Sheraton is charging.
at the AU Summit in Addis Ababa. Also, Ban Ki-Moon visited the summit
today to speak out against violence against women in conflict areas. All
of this going on just down the road from me, which also explains why
every hotel and guesthouse in the city is booked solid and rates have
been hiked up. I'm still paying the regular rate at my hotel since I've
been here the entire month, but I heard some hotels which usually cost
around $60 per night have hiked their prices to over $100 per night. The
Ambassador, which is supposedly one of the nicest in the city, is up to
$150 I heard; I don't even want to think what the Sheraton is charging.
Well Prepared
Friday night I had dinner with my coworker T who is staying at the same
hotel as me. I boiled some tortellini and brought it to T's room where
he'd made a tomato and garlic sauce. We sat and watched Japanese
television on his laptop since he'd pre-recorded some programs to bring
with him overseas. T has been doing contracting work overseas for years
and years and has lived in Mexico, Senegal, Sudan, Djibouti and other
countries, some of which were for extended periods, such as when he
lived in Guatemala for two years and had his wife and children with him.
These days he is usually only overseas for a month at a time, but he has
become an expert on living abroad, having compiled all the gadgets and
worked out the little tricks that make overseas living comfortable. He
has a box of electronics such as adapters, cords, connectors and such
that he always keeps in his suitcase. In fact, there are a number of
things he simply keeps in a suitcase so he's always ready and doesn't
forget anything. He has a container full of pens, highlighters and
office supplies that he always takes overseas. He has work clothes made
of sturdy 100% cotton he bought specifically for overseas assignments
that he keeps packed. He also has a good collection of camping
equipment, including bowls and silverware, a gas burner and rice
cooker--all compact versions--that he brings with him so he can cook
when overseas, not to mention powdered green tea, rice, curry stock,
spices and other favorite ingredients. You could almost say suitcase is
an ultra-portable mobile home at his side. His years of honing this
preparation is quite impressive and he enjoyed sharing these little
tricks with me. Some may think it is difficult to always be "living out
of a suitcase", but T has learned to prepare himself to minimize that
feeling. His packing time is minimal, and when he's home in Japan he can
just put his suitcase aside. On the contrary, he seems at home no matter
where he is.
hotel as me. I boiled some tortellini and brought it to T's room where
he'd made a tomato and garlic sauce. We sat and watched Japanese
television on his laptop since he'd pre-recorded some programs to bring
with him overseas. T has been doing contracting work overseas for years
and years and has lived in Mexico, Senegal, Sudan, Djibouti and other
countries, some of which were for extended periods, such as when he
lived in Guatemala for two years and had his wife and children with him.
These days he is usually only overseas for a month at a time, but he has
become an expert on living abroad, having compiled all the gadgets and
worked out the little tricks that make overseas living comfortable. He
has a box of electronics such as adapters, cords, connectors and such
that he always keeps in his suitcase. In fact, there are a number of
things he simply keeps in a suitcase so he's always ready and doesn't
forget anything. He has a container full of pens, highlighters and
office supplies that he always takes overseas. He has work clothes made
of sturdy 100% cotton he bought specifically for overseas assignments
that he keeps packed. He also has a good collection of camping
equipment, including bowls and silverware, a gas burner and rice
cooker--all compact versions--that he brings with him so he can cook
when overseas, not to mention powdered green tea, rice, curry stock,
spices and other favorite ingredients. You could almost say suitcase is
an ultra-portable mobile home at his side. His years of honing this
preparation is quite impressive and he enjoyed sharing these little
tricks with me. Some may think it is difficult to always be "living out
of a suitcase", but T has learned to prepare himself to minimize that
feeling. His packing time is minimal, and when he's home in Japan he can
just put his suitcase aside. On the contrary, he seems at home no matter
where he is.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Laptop
Sometimes I wonder how I ever got any work done when I only had a
desktop computer. It's Saturday so housekeeping called my room and asked
if it was a good time to come make the bed, etc., so I grabbed my laptop
and headed down to the hotel restaurant. I ordered a soup and a sandwich
and began typing out the remaining sections of the training manual I've
been writing and revising for the past year. Sitting somewhere with a
view of outside, I always feel more clear-headed. The boredom of sitting
in an office or at the desk in my hotel room is so deadening that I tend
to escape my duties every 30 minutes or so to check my mail or current
events online. I can see why Starbucks capitalized on such things. In
the restaurant, munching French fries while I work, other hotel guests
stop in for their lunch as well. An man drinking a beer with his lunch
chats to someone in Italian on his cell, a couple sit at the corner
table and murmur to each other, the staff carry food out and sometimes
up to the rooms; somehow all the mundane action around me keeps me
focused on my work. The only downside is that the restaurant staff have
put on a continual loop of an instrumental mix of "My Heart Will Go On".
Luckily, I've come prepared and I put in my headphones. Sigur Ros, from
the mix my friend B sent me in the mail, moves my fingers across the
keyboard.
desktop computer. It's Saturday so housekeeping called my room and asked
if it was a good time to come make the bed, etc., so I grabbed my laptop
and headed down to the hotel restaurant. I ordered a soup and a sandwich
and began typing out the remaining sections of the training manual I've
been writing and revising for the past year. Sitting somewhere with a
view of outside, I always feel more clear-headed. The boredom of sitting
in an office or at the desk in my hotel room is so deadening that I tend
to escape my duties every 30 minutes or so to check my mail or current
events online. I can see why Starbucks capitalized on such things. In
the restaurant, munching French fries while I work, other hotel guests
stop in for their lunch as well. An man drinking a beer with his lunch
chats to someone in Italian on his cell, a couple sit at the corner
table and murmur to each other, the staff carry food out and sometimes
up to the rooms; somehow all the mundane action around me keeps me
focused on my work. The only downside is that the restaurant staff have
put on a continual loop of an instrumental mix of "My Heart Will Go On".
Luckily, I've come prepared and I put in my headphones. Sigur Ros, from
the mix my friend B sent me in the mail, moves my fingers across the
keyboard.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Crash Update
If you've been following the news, reports say that Ethiopian Airlines flight 409 "flew the wrong way" into a storm, saying this is the probable cause of the crash. However, speaking to some Ethiopian acquaintances yesterday, they were not satisfied by that explanation. However, now that the flight recorders have been found (although not yet recovered), the analysis of those should bring some much sought after answers.
Dancing Machines
Last night we took a group of tourists to the Crown Hotel for dinner and to see the dance show they put on there for guests. The food was excellent, with a variety of dishes from spicy chicken wat (stew) to beef tibbs (marinated cubes) to shiro bean and steamed veggies, all with red and white enjera of course. However, the real highlight of the night was the performances. With a stage for a band to play traditional, regional music, a dance troupe of about 8 people came out multiple times sporting different costumes from around the country and displaying the unique dances from each tribe and region. The domed ceiling of the hotel restaurant is painted with people in the same costumes, giving the name of the tribe beneath, so it's possible for guests to watch the dance, glance up at the ceiling and identify which tribal dance is being performed. The dancers seemed to have endless stamina to bop up and down, spin, jitter, shoulder pop, wave their arms and shake their tail feathers. After we finished eating, many of us shared a bottle of tej honey wine--some of the best I've tasted--as we watched the performances. Apparently some people's inhibitions were lowered as the dancers enticed onlookers to join them; at one point, one of my Japanese colleagues in his 40s was face to face with an Ethiopian dancer doing a nearly yoga-like pose while rapidly shrugging his shoulders. The music made it easy to shrug off any hesitancy and join in, and by the end of the night it looked like people would have some good stories to tell back at home and also sleep well before their flight the next day.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Journalists
There are some British journalists visiting our training center this
afternoon as part of their exposé on international development aid in
Ethiopia. I'm not sure which news outfit they are with, but it will be
interesting to see our project included. As the only native English
speaker, I'm hoping that no one pushes me in front of the cameras since
other Japanese colleagues have been involved with this project for many
years (and I only came the first time less than a year ago). Just in
case, I brought a necktie with me today, although it's not as obnoxious
as the ones I see worn by BBC newscasters. Although, since we haven't
been given any details, they could very well be print journalists, which
would probably be for the better seeing as no one has cut the lawn here
for over a month.
afternoon as part of their exposé on international development aid in
Ethiopia. I'm not sure which news outfit they are with, but it will be
interesting to see our project included. As the only native English
speaker, I'm hoping that no one pushes me in front of the cameras since
other Japanese colleagues have been involved with this project for many
years (and I only came the first time less than a year ago). Just in
case, I brought a necktie with me today, although it's not as obnoxious
as the ones I see worn by BBC newscasters. Although, since we haven't
been given any details, they could very well be print journalists, which
would probably be for the better seeing as no one has cut the lawn here
for over a month.
Gulf of Aden Vacation Spot!?!
Enjoy the sandy beaches of the Gulf of Aden by visiting the coastal city of Berbera, Somalia!!
I picked up an interesting tour pamphlet while in eastern Ethiopia, and lucky for you, they also have a website (find the link HERE)
As inviting as all of this is, even at 15 USD per night including breakfast, it's hard to get excited about taking a bus across the boarder into Somalia, known for its lawlessness, kidnapings and pirates.
I picked up an interesting tour pamphlet while in eastern Ethiopia, and lucky for you, they also have a website (find the link HERE)
As inviting as all of this is, even at 15 USD per night including breakfast, it's hard to get excited about taking a bus across the boarder into Somalia, known for its lawlessness, kidnapings and pirates.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Over the Rainbow
This evening I went to Rainbow, a Korean restaurant downtown, to have dinner with some colleagues. I grabbed a minibus from my hotel to Bole Road and then walked the remaining way, which took about 15 minutes and helped me work up an appetite. Once everyone arrived, we ordered a round of beers, a couple pajeon (a "pancake" with green onion, i.e. chijimi in Japanese), and bulgogi pan-cooked marinated beef, tofu, onion and kimchi with bowls of rice. Every meal at Rainbow also comes with complimentary banchan, which are side dishes mostly of fermented cabbage, radish and whatnot seasoned with chili peppers and salt. Dinner was great, and afterwards it was still early enough to catch a minibus back to my hotel for just 25 cents.
Road Closure
It turns out that the traffic on ring road yesterday (here) was indeed due to the arrival of a VIP: President Zenawi was on his way back from the town of Jijiga. The timing during rush hour traffic could have been because he had to get back in plenty of time for the African Union meeting which began today in Addis Ababa.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Ring Road Traffic
The way back from the training center to our hotel is via the Ring Road that comes up from the south, up past the airport and to the north. The drive usually only takes 10-15 minutes, but today traffic came to a complete halt and our driver switched off the engine. After about 10 minutes, we started moving again and as we passed Bole Road, which runs through the city from the airport, I could see there were no cars on it. The next street to the north was jam packed and bottlenecked, so Bole had obviously been blockaded as well.
Turns out that military police had been blocking traffic, likely because someone important was coming in from the airport. It could very well have had something to do with the crash of ET409. My sincere condolences goes out to all those with loved ones who were on board. Latest reports from BBC have not release specific names (other than the wife of the French Ambassador to Lebanon) but they have found no survivors at this point.
Turns out that military police had been blocking traffic, likely because someone important was coming in from the airport. It could very well have had something to do with the crash of ET409. My sincere condolences goes out to all those with loved ones who were on board. Latest reports from BBC have not release specific names (other than the wife of the French Ambassador to Lebanon) but they have found no survivors at this point.
Elephant Walk
Today my colleague T and I decided to order sandwiches for lunch. One of the drivers stopped by a place called Elephant Walk on his way back from the mechanic and picked us up chicken sandwiches. By the time we got the food, it was almost 2pm and I was famished so I quickly pulled the meal wrapped in tin foil out of the plastic bag and peeled it open. On top of a rectangular paper plate was the sandwich cut in two and a pile of fries with catch up gobbed on top. I didn't have any silverware so my fingers were covered in grease and ketchup by the time I was done, but it was damn good!
ET409
I woke up this morning and, as usual, switched on the BBC. I was immediately wide awake when I saw that an Ethiopian Airlines 737 had crashed due to bad weather conditions over the Mediterranean Sea. The first reports were of 92 on board, although that seems to have been updated to 83 passengers and 7 crew members. Such news is sad and shocking no matter where it happens, but when I went downstairs for breakfast, a man was on his cell phone with someone talking about the crash.
"No, it's terrible! Are you going to be okay? Well, I suppose they'll have a search crew out. What are you going to do today? Go to your sister's house, okay? I'll call you later." Ethiopia is not a very large country, and being in the capital, where Ethiopian Airlines is headquartered, I know that there are people around me who will be affected by this disaster.
"No, it's terrible! Are you going to be okay? Well, I suppose they'll have a search crew out. What are you going to do today? Go to your sister's house, okay? I'll call you later." Ethiopia is not a very large country, and being in the capital, where Ethiopian Airlines is headquartered, I know that there are people around me who will be affected by this disaster.
Habesha Kataro
Last week I ran a series of workshops at the training center. Although I'm familiar, by now, with the fact that people in Ethiopia don't show up on time, I was concerned about being able to finish everything I had planned in one short hour. Luckily the late start allowed me to request everyone to stay later, so I still had enough time.
The first person to arrive was almost right on time and apologized for the fact that others were late. He told me that the phrase for this in Ethiopia is Habesha kataro, meaning "Ethiopian schedule". Since I had a presentation open with the starting time on the first slide being projected onto the wall, I entered these words next to the start time. Slowly, as people arrived, we were able to begin, and then they noticed the phrase. One instructor hung his head in embarrassment, and although I meant it as a joke, I must admit I was glad to see that reaction. At least people are polite about it and apologize when they arrive late, but these are the types of things you need to learn to work with when overseas or else doom yourself to frustration.
The first person to arrive was almost right on time and apologized for the fact that others were late. He told me that the phrase for this in Ethiopia is Habesha kataro, meaning "Ethiopian schedule". Since I had a presentation open with the starting time on the first slide being projected onto the wall, I entered these words next to the start time. Slowly, as people arrived, we were able to begin, and then they noticed the phrase. One instructor hung his head in embarrassment, and although I meant it as a joke, I must admit I was glad to see that reaction. At least people are polite about it and apologize when they arrive late, but these are the types of things you need to learn to work with when overseas or else doom yourself to frustration.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Tail end greetings
It's customary for people to shake hands here, but out in the
countryside it can be a hard gesture to accept. My colleague S told me
that years ago, after they'd completed a new water well in a small
village, an old woman came to show her gratitude and offered her hand to
shake. The only problem was that, out in the country they tend to use
dried cow patties as fuel and this woman had been collecting the fresh
pies and throwing them in a sack she was carrying on her back so, her
hand was covered in fresh bovine manure. S took advantage of being
Japanese and backed away to bow to her instead.
countryside it can be a hard gesture to accept. My colleague S told me
that years ago, after they'd completed a new water well in a small
village, an old woman came to show her gratitude and offered her hand to
shake. The only problem was that, out in the country they tend to use
dried cow patties as fuel and this woman had been collecting the fresh
pies and throwing them in a sack she was carrying on her back so, her
hand was covered in fresh bovine manure. S took advantage of being
Japanese and backed away to bow to her instead.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Table for Eight
Last night 4 other colleagues arrived in Addis Ababa to begin a separate project, so we all went out to dinner together to welcome them to town. The restaurant was Da Tang, a Chinese place in Gerji with great food and large tables. There were eight of us so we were shown to a "party room" on the third floor which had a big, round table with a glass lazy susan on top. First things first, we ordered a round of St. George and Dashen beers. Then M ordered about eight dishes; some veggies, some pork dishes, their famed (at least in our circles) mapodofu. They also brought us a soup we didn't order, but everyone thought it looked so good, we didn't say anything. An Ethiopian waitress stood in the corner of our room and kept our beers filled. After about two hours, it was time for the guys who'd arrived that day to get back to their hotels and rest. We each put down about $10 toward the bill and thanked the servers on our way out.
Hotel Living
I realize that for about 6 months of last year I lived in hotels while on overseas assignments. There are both good and bad aspects to hotel living:
Bad news first:
Bad news first:
- You have to keep your valuables locked in a safe when you go out
- Once in a while you have to see the person checking out of the room you're checking into
- The big, clanging keychain they force you to use so you'll leave the key at the desk
- Tipping all the time
- Used pillows, even if they do have fresh covers
- You don't have to make your bed or wash dishes.
- You can order room service for breakfast
- Having a doorman who meets you at your car with an umbrella on rainy days
- Having a maid service
- Ethiopian coffee ceremony service in the lobby (complete with bowls of popcorn)
Friday, January 22, 2010
My Epiphany
Last Tuesday was a holiday in Ethiopia (see here), so I went to join the masses in a large gathering up on the north side of the city. One of my co-workers, M, said he would join me, but when I called him in the morning, he said he would catch up with me later (I suppose he'd seen the celebration last year, so wasn't as eager to wake up early). To get there, I grabbed a taxi as far as I could go, and then walked about 5 minutes to the gathering spot, where hundreds of people were already congregating. Dereje told me that I would also see a lot of foreigners there and some of the locals might be able to explain to me what was going on during the ceremony. Since I was probably on my own for the day, I hoped I might be able to meet some people there, and to do so, I figured it was time to let down the usual walls.
By "walls" I mean when people from wealthy nations are in a poor nation and we tend to put up all our defenses; we switch on the radar, throw up a forcefield, dig a moat, keep one hand on the pepper spray, enter stealth mode and anything else we can do to make sure that no one tries to deceive us. To some degree, you have to keep up your guard, but living your life behind a wall while overseas can make it feel like a prison.
So, when two young Ethiopian guys waved to me, I didn't brush them off. Tariq and Zererum turned out to be extremely nice guys, and seemed to enjoy showing me around. Tariq took a small wooden cross that he was wearing around his neck and tied it around mine. Then the three of us headed to the front of the crowd, linking arms so we wouldn't get lost. As the abbots and the onlookers were engaged in prayer and chants, the guys were participating and not paying much attention to me, but at one point Zererum told me, "Everyone is saying thanks to God. Help me God." When it was time to be blessed by holy water, we all moved to a better spot and threw our arms in the air as the droplets wet our hair and faces. A moment later, Zererum and I looked at each other and began laughing.
For the next hour or so, we walked around the grounds. I tried to buy Tariq a new cross, but he hurried me past the shops and on to where people were playing a piñata-like game. Tariq paid one birr and the attendants blindfolded him, and led him toward a spherical object at which he swung a stick (and unfortunately missed). Then we went to play another game where we threw 10 cent pieces trying to land them inside a small bowl.
After we'd made the rounds, the guys suggested we walk over to St. Markos church nearby. There, they showed me how to bow and make the sign of the cross three times before entering the gate. We approached an abbot who blessed us with a large wooden cross, putting it once to our lips and then to our foreheads. Inside the grounds of the church, standing there with Tariq and Zererum, I realized how much I was enjoying the day. Maybe it is necessary to keep up one's guard when in a foreign country, but it's best keep a gate open lest you miss the good stuff.
By "walls" I mean when people from wealthy nations are in a poor nation and we tend to put up all our defenses; we switch on the radar, throw up a forcefield, dig a moat, keep one hand on the pepper spray, enter stealth mode and anything else we can do to make sure that no one tries to deceive us. To some degree, you have to keep up your guard, but living your life behind a wall while overseas can make it feel like a prison.
So, when two young Ethiopian guys waved to me, I didn't brush them off. Tariq and Zererum turned out to be extremely nice guys, and seemed to enjoy showing me around. Tariq took a small wooden cross that he was wearing around his neck and tied it around mine. Then the three of us headed to the front of the crowd, linking arms so we wouldn't get lost. As the abbots and the onlookers were engaged in prayer and chants, the guys were participating and not paying much attention to me, but at one point Zererum told me, "Everyone is saying thanks to God. Help me God." When it was time to be blessed by holy water, we all moved to a better spot and threw our arms in the air as the droplets wet our hair and faces. A moment later, Zererum and I looked at each other and began laughing.
For the next hour or so, we walked around the grounds. I tried to buy Tariq a new cross, but he hurried me past the shops and on to where people were playing a piñata-like game. Tariq paid one birr and the attendants blindfolded him, and led him toward a spherical object at which he swung a stick (and unfortunately missed). Then we went to play another game where we threw 10 cent pieces trying to land them inside a small bowl.
After we'd made the rounds, the guys suggested we walk over to St. Markos church nearby. There, they showed me how to bow and make the sign of the cross three times before entering the gate. We approached an abbot who blessed us with a large wooden cross, putting it once to our lips and then to our foreheads. Inside the grounds of the church, standing there with Tariq and Zererum, I realized how much I was enjoying the day. Maybe it is necessary to keep up one's guard when in a foreign country, but it's best keep a gate open lest you miss the good stuff.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Grocery Shopping
I went grocery shopping at Novis Shopping Center this afternoon. The shop is on the main strip, Bole Road, and meant for upper-class locals and foreigners, so I assume the prices are higher than what you'd find in the local street shops, or from the women who sell veggies on the side of the road for that matter. Nevertheless, here is today's breakdown, in US dollars. Also, as an added bonus, since I've been fooling around with spreadsheets today, the percentage of each item of the total cost:
690g Tomato sauce - $3.98 (32%)
500g Frozen tortellini - $3.07 (24%)
100g Gouda cheese - $2.36 (18%)
500g Penne - $2.13 (14%)
Can of Sprite - $1.00 (8%)
A tomato - $0.25 (2%)
An egg - $0.18 (1%)
A bread roll - $0.12 (1%)
Total $12.81 (100%)
500g Frozen tortellini - $3.07 (24%)
100g Gouda cheese - $2.36 (18%)
500g Penne - $2.13 (14%)
Can of Sprite - $1.00 (8%)
A tomato - $0.25 (2%)
An egg - $0.18 (1%)
A bread roll - $0.12 (1%)
Total $12.81 (100%)
($1 = 12.9 ETB)
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
When the saints come marching in
I woke up early to arrive at Jalmeda field in time for the main Timkat holiday events, which culminates with spraying the crowd with holy water. The ceremony symbolizes the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan by John the Baptist. There were literally thousands of people that attended the event and it was exciting to be part of the celebrations with everyone. When I arrived, the Orthodox abbots were gathering in the center and a wide area was formed around them by crowd-control, so I didn't get close enough to see the central ceremony, but I did listen as the abbots chanted prayers in the local verbiage and the crowd responded with phrases meaning, "He will help us." Most women were dressed in white linen dresses and other onlookers wore "original" t-shirts bearing Ethiopian crosses and the name of their church or holiday sayings in Amharic. As I moved through the crowd to get a better position, there were quite a few people down on their knees praying, with their foreheads to the ground. Then, around 9 o' clock, people turned toward spigots atop towering pipes scattered around the Jalmeda field. The holy water sprinkler began to squirt and sputter above the lawn full of people. Everyone turned their faces to the sky and welcomed the blessing. Soon our faces and hair were wet with the falling droplets as the sprinkler spun slowly around and around. Behind us, an abbot was atop a fence spraying a hose of holy water up and over the crowd near him and people put their arms in the air to welcome the blessing. After this symbolic baptism, people began to sing, play games, drink and eat at various stations around the field. Some people left as others filtered in, and after partaking in some of the events, I exited myself. As I did, I passed by numerous church groups marching in the streets like a parade of singing saints.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Epiphany Holiday
Today is a holiday in Ethiopia known as Epiphany, or Timkat. This day celebrates the baptism of Jesus by John and is celebrated by Orthodox Christians around the world, such as in Russia, Greece and so forth, but possibly on different days since Ethiopia follows the Julian calendar. It is considered the most extravagant celebration other than the Meskel Festival in September. The best place to be is the town of Gondar, an old capital, since they have a massive baptism pool there that onlookers can apparently jump into. But Ethiopians everywhere in the country are keen to celebrate.
Epiphany really began Monday afternoon when churches around the country began taking their relics to central gathering spots nearby where people can congregate. With some 140 churches in Addis, there are various meeting points around town, and one of the largest in Addis Ababa is Jalmeda, up near Sidist Kilo. The relic, known as a tabot, represents the tablets of Moses on which is written the 10 Commandments. Since the Commandments were written by God, they consider this to be a close representation of Jesus. On Tuesday morning, the Orthodox priests bless people en mass with holy water and perform a rite with the tabot before returning their relics to their respective churches. For churches that are dedicated to Saint Michael, their tabot remains until Wednesday (and still another church will wait until Thursday), so that Epiphany is actually celebrated over a few days.
Monday evening, as we headed back from the office, the streets were already full of revelers and flags had been hung over streets around town. I even saw a few priests in full garb heading across town; a small preview of what is to come today I suppose.
Epiphany really began Monday afternoon when churches around the country began taking their relics to central gathering spots nearby where people can congregate. With some 140 churches in Addis, there are various meeting points around town, and one of the largest in Addis Ababa is Jalmeda, up near Sidist Kilo. The relic, known as a tabot, represents the tablets of Moses on which is written the 10 Commandments. Since the Commandments were written by God, they consider this to be a close representation of Jesus. On Tuesday morning, the Orthodox priests bless people en mass with holy water and perform a rite with the tabot before returning their relics to their respective churches. For churches that are dedicated to Saint Michael, their tabot remains until Wednesday (and still another church will wait until Thursday), so that Epiphany is actually celebrated over a few days.
Monday evening, as we headed back from the office, the streets were already full of revelers and flags had been hung over streets around town. I even saw a few priests in full garb heading across town; a small preview of what is to come today I suppose.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Rainy Monday
This morning it is raining in Addis Ababa. Although this is supposed to be, more or less, the dry season, there has been intermittent rain lately. Apparently this has already affected the tef fields which were just planted recently, causing the seeds to green prematurely. In the city, some people have umbrellas but most do not; quite a number of people use a shawl of sorts to cover their heads.
Godfather Pizza
Sunday I decided to have dinner at Godfather Pizza, the eye-catching pizzeria in the Gerji area just down from my hotel. I walked in to the small shop, which had soft seating blocks along the front wall and one side wall with pillows to lean back on, and four low tables to eat at. I ordered their Tropical pizza {tomato, mozzarella, spinach, pepperoni, ham, pineapple, and black olives} and a Pepsi, and watched as one cook started rolling out the dough and pinching the end of the crust. I took a seat and pulled out a magazine, sipping my Pepsi as young people came in--both couples and friends--chatting and relaxing as they also waited for their pizzas. After about 20 minutes, my pizza arrived and it looked great. I used a fork and knife at first to eat it while it was hot and the mozzarella stretched out until I cut it, then took the first bite: Don Corleone would have been proud!
Godfather's, I found out glancing at the table-top menus, used to be named "Pizza Spot" and "Sele's Pizza" at some point, and has three shops around Addis. The new name certainly has more character, and a pizza like this deserves the attention it brings. I took my time and finished the whole pie, and my magazine article, and seeing that dusk was setting in, headed back to the hotel full and satisfied.
Godfather's, I found out glancing at the table-top menus, used to be named "Pizza Spot" and "Sele's Pizza" at some point, and has three shops around Addis. The new name certainly has more character, and a pizza like this deserves the attention it brings. I took my time and finished the whole pie, and my magazine article, and seeing that dusk was setting in, headed back to the hotel full and satisfied.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Great Outdoors
In Harar, while meeting with my colleagues to discuss the field work
over a couple of beers at a bar downtown, we were sitting outdoors on
the sidewalk near the road. Sometimes a young child would walk up to us
with a box of chewing gum, cigarettes, tissues and other "goodies"
trying to make a sale. This is frowned upon at restaurants because the
managers don't want these kids disturbing their customers, and most
people will not buy anything from them on account of that (amongst other
reasons!). In any case, not only are there child goodie peddlers but
also young kids simply begging for change. As we were discussing work,
it was even more disturbing than usual and Dereje, our driver, told one
little girl to go away. When she didn't he signaled for the manager, who
came running out to shoo the kids away. Throughout the two hours we were
there, the manager had to come running out to chase away beggars a few
times, at one point running one guy down the street, for good measure I
suppose.
In general, I never give money to young kids or mothers with babies.
It's also heart-wrenching to pass by the crippled and maimed beggars in
the streets, but as most of my colleagues agree, caring for these
citizens is the job of any responsible government, and who are we to
relieve them of this very important duty. I have bought items from
street hawkers, such as week-old magazines, phone cards and other
miscellany, basically because they have an item I want and they are at
least trying to establish themselves. When I do so, I usually frequent
the same person, and even then, only those that don't hassle me; most
will at least call my attention, but if they follow me around at all,
they are quickly ignored. Children who try to follow a foreign visitor
around asking for money are usually shamed and shooed away by nearby
locals.
over a couple of beers at a bar downtown, we were sitting outdoors on
the sidewalk near the road. Sometimes a young child would walk up to us
with a box of chewing gum, cigarettes, tissues and other "goodies"
trying to make a sale. This is frowned upon at restaurants because the
managers don't want these kids disturbing their customers, and most
people will not buy anything from them on account of that (amongst other
reasons!). In any case, not only are there child goodie peddlers but
also young kids simply begging for change. As we were discussing work,
it was even more disturbing than usual and Dereje, our driver, told one
little girl to go away. When she didn't he signaled for the manager, who
came running out to shoo the kids away. Throughout the two hours we were
there, the manager had to come running out to chase away beggars a few
times, at one point running one guy down the street, for good measure I
suppose.
In general, I never give money to young kids or mothers with babies.
It's also heart-wrenching to pass by the crippled and maimed beggars in
the streets, but as most of my colleagues agree, caring for these
citizens is the job of any responsible government, and who are we to
relieve them of this very important duty. I have bought items from
street hawkers, such as week-old magazines, phone cards and other
miscellany, basically because they have an item I want and they are at
least trying to establish themselves. When I do so, I usually frequent
the same person, and even then, only those that don't hassle me; most
will at least call my attention, but if they follow me around at all,
they are quickly ignored. Children who try to follow a foreign visitor
around asking for money are usually shamed and shooed away by nearby
locals.
Karibou
This afternoon I'm spending some time at Karibou Coffee, a cafe near the
Imperial Hotel and a short walk from my accommodation. Since Ethiopia
has an authentic claim to the origins of coffee (in the Kaffa region), I
pretty much give them a pass for shamelessly naming their cafe
"Karibou". In any case, it's better than the "Stack Bucks Coffee" I saw
in Harar.
I decided to order a coffee and milk, thinking I'd get a decent sized
cup of half coffee, half milk. Instead, I got a shot of espresso and a
mug of steamed milk. Instead of sending it back, I decided to give it a
try and it turns out to be a great idea. I like strong coffee, but
drinking even a shot of espresso can leave a lasting, bitter taste in
your mouth. So after a sip of the espresso, I spooned some milk foam on
top and stirred it in, then took another sip. I kept doing this,
gradually adding the non-steamed milk lower down, and sipping, until
about 1/4 of the shot was left. Then, I dumped the remaining espresso
into the cup of milk and had a nice cafe latte! Oh, did I mention they
also serve pretty great donuts? Twice as high as any donut at DD or KK,
this ring of fried dough was topped with chocolate and went great with
my caffeine.
Imperial Hotel and a short walk from my accommodation. Since Ethiopia
has an authentic claim to the origins of coffee (in the Kaffa region), I
pretty much give them a pass for shamelessly naming their cafe
"Karibou". In any case, it's better than the "Stack Bucks Coffee" I saw
in Harar.
I decided to order a coffee and milk, thinking I'd get a decent sized
cup of half coffee, half milk. Instead, I got a shot of espresso and a
mug of steamed milk. Instead of sending it back, I decided to give it a
try and it turns out to be a great idea. I like strong coffee, but
drinking even a shot of espresso can leave a lasting, bitter taste in
your mouth. So after a sip of the espresso, I spooned some milk foam on
top and stirred it in, then took another sip. I kept doing this,
gradually adding the non-steamed milk lower down, and sipping, until
about 1/4 of the shot was left. Then, I dumped the remaining espresso
into the cup of milk and had a nice cafe latte! Oh, did I mention they
also serve pretty great donuts? Twice as high as any donut at DD or KK,
this ring of fried dough was topped with chocolate and went great with
my caffeine.
Photography
As an amateur, I accept that my photos of Ethiopia are going to be somewhat commonplace. That said, I am almost put to shame by the amazing photos by Eric Lafforgue, which you can see at his site: HERE. He does a great job at capturing the people of Ethiopia, which is something only the best of photographers has the charm and the courage to accomplish. He even has a great picture of the hyena feeding in Harar. Skim your cursor over "profile" to see rare pictures of other places, such as Omo Ethiopia, Eritrea, Sudan, Yemen, North Korea, and others.
Stars over Harar
One evening I went to the Fresh Touch restaurant for dinner and some drinks and didn't get back to my hotel until almost 11pm. To my surprise, the entrance was completely locked and the place was shrouded in darkness. I looked to Dereje for any ideas, but he was equally confused. I opened the door and got out to see if there wasn't a watchman around. Luckily there was, at the large, far gate that enters into the rear of the hotel. I told Dereje I'd see him tomorrow and followed the guard through the gate and to the back entrance. Looking up, I was in complete awe at the stars above me. The sky was sparkling like a reverse-image of a glass of champagne. The guard led me to the door and I had to blink and take in the scene just one more time before heading into the building.
Harar Brewery
On Thursday evening Dereje and I headed over to the brewery in Harar,
home to Hakim Stout and Harar Beer, as well as a non-alcoholic brew
called Harar Sofi which is popular amongst the Muslim population here.
On the way inside we walked through a small park with some trees in it
and I could see what looked like plastic squares falling from the tree;
they were all over the ground too. At first I thought someone must have
had a wedding here and it was confetti all over the ground, but then
Dereje caught one and we realized it was coming from the tree. It was a
nearly transparent white square with a heart-shaped mark in the
middle--completely natural. I snapped a few pictures of them and then we
headed on to the beer.
The brewery has its own well so they don't have to rely on the Alem Maya
well field for water. As such, the brewery is located at the foot of the
Hakim Mountain, a source of water for their well. Dereje ordered a draft
Harar and I ordered a bottle of Hakim Stout. I had tried the bottled
Harar beer when I was in Dire Dawa the other day, but the draft here was
much darker, so I decided to have that next. The Hakim Stout was a light
amber color, as was the head of foam. We then ordered a hamburger and
fries to share, sat back and watched the African Cup football game on
the big screen television. By the time the food came I was ready for my
Harar draft, and have to say it was excellent. Apparently they are
preparing this brew for export, so for those who don't have plans to be
in eastern Ethiopia anytime soon, keep an eye out.
home to Hakim Stout and Harar Beer, as well as a non-alcoholic brew
called Harar Sofi which is popular amongst the Muslim population here.
On the way inside we walked through a small park with some trees in it
and I could see what looked like plastic squares falling from the tree;
they were all over the ground too. At first I thought someone must have
had a wedding here and it was confetti all over the ground, but then
Dereje caught one and we realized it was coming from the tree. It was a
nearly transparent white square with a heart-shaped mark in the
middle--completely natural. I snapped a few pictures of them and then we
headed on to the beer.
The brewery has its own well so they don't have to rely on the Alem Maya
well field for water. As such, the brewery is located at the foot of the
Hakim Mountain, a source of water for their well. Dereje ordered a draft
Harar and I ordered a bottle of Hakim Stout. I had tried the bottled
Harar beer when I was in Dire Dawa the other day, but the draft here was
much darker, so I decided to have that next. The Hakim Stout was a light
amber color, as was the head of foam. We then ordered a hamburger and
fries to share, sat back and watched the African Cup football game on
the big screen television. By the time the food came I was ready for my
Harar draft, and have to say it was excellent. Apparently they are
preparing this brew for export, so for those who don't have plans to be
in eastern Ethiopia anytime soon, keep an eye out.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Table Service
In Harar, we basically alternated between two restaurants: Hirut Restaurant and Fresh Touch. At both of these places, after lunch when we order coffee, they bring it in a small clay jebena pot that holds about two small cups worth, and pour it at the table. This is served with a small bowl of popcorn to neutralize one's palate, I suppose. They also place an incense burner smoking with sweet smelling etan (gum), which plays on the senses as the dark, oily Harar coffee perks up your taste buds. Dereje pours in two or three heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his buna and I make due with just one, then we stir for a good while until it should all be melted and thoroughly mixed in. The cups are small and hot and I sip at it at least a dozen times. Each sip brings the bittersweet taste of Harar coffee as Dereje and I sit back and relax watching BBC news on the cafe tv.
Nure Roasted
In old Harar town, we visited Nure Roasted Harar Coffee, a small roaster
located at the end of town. When we entered there were two
floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with brown paper 1kg bags of ground
Harar coffee. They took one of the bags off the shelf, opened it up,
pulled out a plastic bag to open and let us smell the pure Harar coffee.
Led further into the compound to the back, we were shown the roasting
machine. One of the men who worked there explained the operation of the
machine in English that I managed to reconstruct in my head for it to be
understandable. Then he showed us the grinding machine which would give
the bean a medium finish. I asked if they had any whole beans, if
possible in a 500g bag, but they wouldn't have any until the afternoon.
I thanked them and decided to just have some coffee after lunch and
Dereje and I headed back to the car.
located at the end of town. When we entered there were two
floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with brown paper 1kg bags of ground
Harar coffee. They took one of the bags off the shelf, opened it up,
pulled out a plastic bag to open and let us smell the pure Harar coffee.
Led further into the compound to the back, we were shown the roasting
machine. One of the men who worked there explained the operation of the
machine in English that I managed to reconstruct in my head for it to be
understandable. Then he showed us the grinding machine which would give
the bean a medium finish. I asked if they had any whole beans, if
possible in a 500g bag, but they wouldn't have any until the afternoon.
I thanked them and decided to just have some coffee after lunch and
Dereje and I headed back to the car.
Feeding Hyenas
One of the first things you read about when you go to visit Harar is the
30-odd year tradition of feeding the hyenas that dwell outside the walls
of the old city. On my first day in the city I was meeting with some
colleagues for dinner and drinks so was unable to go see the hyenas
myself, but we ran into a group of our trainees who were passing by the
restaurant we were at and who were on their way to one of the feeding
spots. Later that evening I met a tourist from the UK that told me about
the event a little more. Apparently there are two spots and guides will
coordinate the tourists depending on how many there are as well as, of
course, where the hyenas have congregated themselves that evening. The
cars and buses will form a circle and shine their headlights onto where
the hyenas are and a man will walk out among them with a basket of raw
meat (apparently, they like raw donkey meat), put down a blanket and sit
down with them. He then proceeds to throw strips of the meat to them,
and sometimes dangles it in their air for them to come and grab. They
also offer the tourists a chance to join the man and feed the hyenas
themselves. The tourist I spoke to from the UK said she'd done it
herself, holding a stick between her teeth with raw donkey meat dangling
on the other end so the hyenas could step up and grab it. This
apparently gives you a face-to-face meeting with a hyena and an
adrenaline rush like no other.
Although it sounds crazy, the next evening I hired a guide and we drove
out to the hyena feed ourselves. We pulled up and could see in the car's
headlights a pack of about 6 or 7 hyenas, their eyes glowing red
reflecting the bright lights. Some were lounging on the ground and
others were walking around, their short hind legs and long front legs
giving them the appearance of a cross between a wolf and a small bear.
The guide said we could get out of the car, and seeing that they did not
immediately maul him, I hesitantly got out as well. A few moments later,
a bus pulled up adding it's headlights to the night and about 30 French
tourists came out with their cameras in hand. People snapped pictures as
the man fed the hyenas, yelling their names, calling some kind of
instructions to them. At one point we heard the hyena's laugh, an eerie
yet exhilarating sound to hear such an animal produce.
Then my guide said to go ahead, join the man in the center and feed the
hyenas, and he would take my picture. Since I'd spoken to a tourist that
had done this the night before, and could see that the man seemed to
have trained the animals somehow, I handed over my camera and stepped
toward the wild beasts. As if in a dream, I sat down on the blanket next
to the man and he picked up a stick for me to hold, then put a strip of
meat at the end of it. As I held the stick, one of the animals stepped
forward and ate the meat off, chewing and happy as he stepped back to
the end of the line. The animals were keeping their distance and seemed
to be waiting instructions from the man. Next he told me to try and hold
the stick in my teeth, which by that point I'd seen in guide books and
the UK tourist's own camera shots. I looked over and the guide had my
camera at the ready, so I put the stick in my mouth and another hyena
came up and ate it off; the face-to-face, the adrenaline rush. Next, the
hyena man seemed to put his arm around me and I saw camera flashes go
off as a hyena ate the meat the man was holding in his hand. I felt the
hyena brush up against me and then step back. At that, I thanked the
hyena man, and in my heart thanked the hyenas for not eating me, and
excused myself from the spotlight.
Next, a middle-aged woman fed them. Then an older French man named
Michael with a white beard fed them, but his nerves got to him after the
first piece of meat and he exited early. Finally, the hyena man's 5 year
old daughter stepped out and held the basket as the hyenas gathered
around and reached their heads in to finish off the remaining scraps.
She was so small but unafraid; then joined by her father for a few more
pictures to end the night. Everyone who fed the hyenas paid 50 birr
(about $5) and I got back into the car with our guide and Dereje and
drove back into town to have a much needed and deserved drink or two.
30-odd year tradition of feeding the hyenas that dwell outside the walls
of the old city. On my first day in the city I was meeting with some
colleagues for dinner and drinks so was unable to go see the hyenas
myself, but we ran into a group of our trainees who were passing by the
restaurant we were at and who were on their way to one of the feeding
spots. Later that evening I met a tourist from the UK that told me about
the event a little more. Apparently there are two spots and guides will
coordinate the tourists depending on how many there are as well as, of
course, where the hyenas have congregated themselves that evening. The
cars and buses will form a circle and shine their headlights onto where
the hyenas are and a man will walk out among them with a basket of raw
meat (apparently, they like raw donkey meat), put down a blanket and sit
down with them. He then proceeds to throw strips of the meat to them,
and sometimes dangles it in their air for them to come and grab. They
also offer the tourists a chance to join the man and feed the hyenas
themselves. The tourist I spoke to from the UK said she'd done it
herself, holding a stick between her teeth with raw donkey meat dangling
on the other end so the hyenas could step up and grab it. This
apparently gives you a face-to-face meeting with a hyena and an
adrenaline rush like no other.
Although it sounds crazy, the next evening I hired a guide and we drove
out to the hyena feed ourselves. We pulled up and could see in the car's
headlights a pack of about 6 or 7 hyenas, their eyes glowing red
reflecting the bright lights. Some were lounging on the ground and
others were walking around, their short hind legs and long front legs
giving them the appearance of a cross between a wolf and a small bear.
The guide said we could get out of the car, and seeing that they did not
immediately maul him, I hesitantly got out as well. A few moments later,
a bus pulled up adding it's headlights to the night and about 30 French
tourists came out with their cameras in hand. People snapped pictures as
the man fed the hyenas, yelling their names, calling some kind of
instructions to them. At one point we heard the hyena's laugh, an eerie
yet exhilarating sound to hear such an animal produce.
Then my guide said to go ahead, join the man in the center and feed the
hyenas, and he would take my picture. Since I'd spoken to a tourist that
had done this the night before, and could see that the man seemed to
have trained the animals somehow, I handed over my camera and stepped
toward the wild beasts. As if in a dream, I sat down on the blanket next
to the man and he picked up a stick for me to hold, then put a strip of
meat at the end of it. As I held the stick, one of the animals stepped
forward and ate the meat off, chewing and happy as he stepped back to
the end of the line. The animals were keeping their distance and seemed
to be waiting instructions from the man. Next he told me to try and hold
the stick in my teeth, which by that point I'd seen in guide books and
the UK tourist's own camera shots. I looked over and the guide had my
camera at the ready, so I put the stick in my mouth and another hyena
came up and ate it off; the face-to-face, the adrenaline rush. Next, the
hyena man seemed to put his arm around me and I saw camera flashes go
off as a hyena ate the meat the man was holding in his hand. I felt the
hyena brush up against me and then step back. At that, I thanked the
hyena man, and in my heart thanked the hyenas for not eating me, and
excused myself from the spotlight.
Next, a middle-aged woman fed them. Then an older French man named
Michael with a white beard fed them, but his nerves got to him after the
first piece of meat and he exited early. Finally, the hyena man's 5 year
old daughter stepped out and held the basket as the hyenas gathered
around and reached their heads in to finish off the remaining scraps.
She was so small but unafraid; then joined by her father for a few more
pictures to end the night. Everyone who fed the hyenas paid 50 birr
(about $5) and I got back into the car with our guide and Dereje and
drove back into town to have a much needed and deserved drink or two.
Bon Voyage
Walking around in the Christian Market in Harar with Dereje, we were looking in the stalls that were packed with spices, grains, eggs, buckets of butter, sacks of coffee beans, tea leaves and more. There was a lot of action going on in the market as one stall was constructing some sort of wooden structure and the woman who ran the stall was yelling at the carpenter to do it a certain way. It seemed like everyone had their head turned toward the commotion, but at the same time I could see that it was more a form of amusement, even for those involved. People were generally in a good mood and seemed to be rather familiar with each other. As we looked in one shop, Dereje was speaking with the shopkeeper and began to laugh, and then translated for me, "He wanted to know where you were from, but I told him it was hard to say because you are from many different places." Then the man looked at me and guessed, "Is he from India?" This caused Dereje to laugh even harder, but he finally explained, "No, he was born in America, lives in Japan, has a Chinese wife and works in Ethiopia." At that, the shopkeeper simply replied, "Well, bon voyage, then!"--a fairly appropriate thing to say to someone who he must have felt is always on the move.
Back to Addis
I had booked my trip to Dire Dawa at the last minute, so I hadn't been
surprised that the seats were limited and some flights were full. That
meant that I had time to kill on Friday until my 5:20pm flight back to
Addis. Arriving in Dire Dawa around 2pm, however, I had spent a night in
Dire Dawa a few days before and gone to the two restaurants suggested in
my guide book, checked out some of the bars downtown and stayed in their
premiere hotel. So there seemed little to do other than hang out at a
local cafe, resigning myself that the town was not particularly meant
for tourists. After almost an hour there, I decided I might as well head
to the airport, arriving about two and a half hours before my scheduled
flight. When I checked in, however, they told me that there was an
earlier flight I could get on if there were still open seats and if I
waited for 20 minutes then maybe I could take it. I was glad to have the
opportunity to leave earlier but was surprised to hear that there was an
earlier flight, since the travel agent I'd booked with said there was
only a morning and an evening flight. Well, twenty minutes later I was
lucky that there was still a seat open and, when they printed out my
boarding pass, the time stamp was for 11:30am. I asked about this and
they said it was the morning flight but it had been delayed, and as a
result, the 5:20 flight was being delayed an hour too. I promptly
disregarded any need for further explanation, clutched my boarding pass
for the 4 o'clock departure and headed towards the tarmac.
surprised that the seats were limited and some flights were full. That
meant that I had time to kill on Friday until my 5:20pm flight back to
Addis. Arriving in Dire Dawa around 2pm, however, I had spent a night in
Dire Dawa a few days before and gone to the two restaurants suggested in
my guide book, checked out some of the bars downtown and stayed in their
premiere hotel. So there seemed little to do other than hang out at a
local cafe, resigning myself that the town was not particularly meant
for tourists. After almost an hour there, I decided I might as well head
to the airport, arriving about two and a half hours before my scheduled
flight. When I checked in, however, they told me that there was an
earlier flight I could get on if there were still open seats and if I
waited for 20 minutes then maybe I could take it. I was glad to have the
opportunity to leave earlier but was surprised to hear that there was an
earlier flight, since the travel agent I'd booked with said there was
only a morning and an evening flight. Well, twenty minutes later I was
lucky that there was still a seat open and, when they printed out my
boarding pass, the time stamp was for 11:30am. I asked about this and
they said it was the morning flight but it had been delayed, and as a
result, the 5:20 flight was being delayed an hour too. I promptly
disregarded any need for further explanation, clutched my boarding pass
for the 4 o'clock departure and headed towards the tarmac.
Breaking the fourth wall
Dereje and I drove into old town and pulled up to the main square where we parked the day before. However, today there were three guys loitering in that spot who feigned some sort of parking service. Harar is a small town and I already knew their faces; one was a 15 year old kid who showed us where Nure coffee roasters was located the day before, another was the deaf guide, as usual wearing his black down vest jacket, and a third guy who was a bit older who I'll simply call 'the Hustler'.
Dereje cracked his window and talked to the Hustler, Kid and Vest-jacket for a minute in Amaharic and then we got out of the car. For the most part, these guys were non-threatening, but we were still on our guard. We told them we were uninterested in a self-appointed parking maid or any guides that day.
As we walked toward the shops, the Hustler decided to make another try to be part of our day. Walking over to the shop I had been interested in visiting, I found it was closed and Dereje and I considered leaving to go check out the Christian market instead. But the Hustler pointed across the street and said another shop had the same stuff. There was an old Harari woman weaving quietly behind the counter. We stepped into the shop and the Hustler went directly behind the counter and started putting out decorative handicrafts that the woman had made. "These are made of paperboard, basically," he said, "so you're better off with a hand-woven basket. She only makes 5 of these every year so one costs 350 birr [about $30]."
I wasn't looking to spend very much money, nor was I looking for a large basket to try and fit in my suitcase, but I really wasn't interested in dealing with this guy. The woman stayed quiet as the Kid walked in and said, "How much you want to spend? That's your right; you can offer 1 birr if you want. Get what you want!" Outside the shop, Vest-jacket was chewing apart a sugarcane, spitting out the husk and gnawing on the sweet fibers. Dereje and I glanced back at the woman and seeing an opportunity she wagged her finger at us to signal her opinion of dealing with these guys even one second longer. We said we weren't interested in the baskets and stepped out of the shop, knowing we were saving her a lot of trouble. Vest-jacket was furious with the whole thing though, uttering words we couldn't understand and motioning frantically at the Hustler, somehow getting the point across loud and clear. The Hustler yelled back at Vest-jacket, and the Kid explained that they were accusing each other of being thieves and preying on tourists. Vest-jacket told us to watch our wallets and motioned that we should tell the Hustler to buzz off, using a very understandable finger gesture in the Hustler's face. We walked back to the car with Vest-jacket holding the Hustler at bay with his middle finger, still holding his sugar cane in his other hand.
There seems to be a real tension in Harar between those who want to welcome tourists to this UNESCO world heritage site and UN-declared city of peace, and those who try and take advantage of the short-term visitors while they can. However, it seems there are enough people who see the big picture and know that they need to preserve their reputation and be honest in order to attract the rest of the world to their small part of it. As exemplified by the old woman, although places of poverty are helpless to a great amount of reliance on others, there are those that see it as a relationship that needs a great deal of care to cultivate, i.e. a business agreement. People are not prone to spend, explore, hire or invest time if they think it is part of a swindle or someone's way to kill the afternoon. In that sense, it might be more apt to call the Hustler the Hassler, since he was just as much a threat to himself as anyone else. Hopefully the Kid will come to understand this as he choses a path for himself. But Vest-jacket seemed to understand already; a young man who seemed to straddle both worlds somehow; perhaps because he didn't have to listen to the claptrap musings of the aspiring slumdogs, yet knew he was destined to be part of them, emerging from the same fold to compete for the attention of the outside visitors which offered some hope or, at the very least, a break from the realities around him. The fruit sellers, the tailors, the peddlers of odds-and-ends and other residents of the old town put on their best smiles to greet the camera-touting tourists as they exit their buses that carry them from the hotel to the market, but in times of necessity, like the old weaver in her shop, they broke the fourth wall between the show and the audience with smiles to communicate, bring it back to human interaction and understanding, charm many to stay, to enjoy their trip, to prove the hasslers wrong and prove to you and themselves that they're better than that. In that way, the old weaver gave a signal akin to Vest-jacket's finger gesture that said, "Despite the riff-raff of the world, you are most welcome and please try to enjoy your stay."
Dereje cracked his window and talked to the Hustler, Kid and Vest-jacket for a minute in Amaharic and then we got out of the car. For the most part, these guys were non-threatening, but we were still on our guard. We told them we were uninterested in a self-appointed parking maid or any guides that day.
As we walked toward the shops, the Hustler decided to make another try to be part of our day. Walking over to the shop I had been interested in visiting, I found it was closed and Dereje and I considered leaving to go check out the Christian market instead. But the Hustler pointed across the street and said another shop had the same stuff. There was an old Harari woman weaving quietly behind the counter. We stepped into the shop and the Hustler went directly behind the counter and started putting out decorative handicrafts that the woman had made. "These are made of paperboard, basically," he said, "so you're better off with a hand-woven basket. She only makes 5 of these every year so one costs 350 birr [about $30]."
I wasn't looking to spend very much money, nor was I looking for a large basket to try and fit in my suitcase, but I really wasn't interested in dealing with this guy. The woman stayed quiet as the Kid walked in and said, "How much you want to spend? That's your right; you can offer 1 birr if you want. Get what you want!" Outside the shop, Vest-jacket was chewing apart a sugarcane, spitting out the husk and gnawing on the sweet fibers. Dereje and I glanced back at the woman and seeing an opportunity she wagged her finger at us to signal her opinion of dealing with these guys even one second longer. We said we weren't interested in the baskets and stepped out of the shop, knowing we were saving her a lot of trouble. Vest-jacket was furious with the whole thing though, uttering words we couldn't understand and motioning frantically at the Hustler, somehow getting the point across loud and clear. The Hustler yelled back at Vest-jacket, and the Kid explained that they were accusing each other of being thieves and preying on tourists. Vest-jacket told us to watch our wallets and motioned that we should tell the Hustler to buzz off, using a very understandable finger gesture in the Hustler's face. We walked back to the car with Vest-jacket holding the Hustler at bay with his middle finger, still holding his sugar cane in his other hand.
There seems to be a real tension in Harar between those who want to welcome tourists to this UNESCO world heritage site and UN-declared city of peace, and those who try and take advantage of the short-term visitors while they can. However, it seems there are enough people who see the big picture and know that they need to preserve their reputation and be honest in order to attract the rest of the world to their small part of it. As exemplified by the old woman, although places of poverty are helpless to a great amount of reliance on others, there are those that see it as a relationship that needs a great deal of care to cultivate, i.e. a business agreement. People are not prone to spend, explore, hire or invest time if they think it is part of a swindle or someone's way to kill the afternoon. In that sense, it might be more apt to call the Hustler the Hassler, since he was just as much a threat to himself as anyone else. Hopefully the Kid will come to understand this as he choses a path for himself. But Vest-jacket seemed to understand already; a young man who seemed to straddle both worlds somehow; perhaps because he didn't have to listen to the claptrap musings of the aspiring slumdogs, yet knew he was destined to be part of them, emerging from the same fold to compete for the attention of the outside visitors which offered some hope or, at the very least, a break from the realities around him. The fruit sellers, the tailors, the peddlers of odds-and-ends and other residents of the old town put on their best smiles to greet the camera-touting tourists as they exit their buses that carry them from the hotel to the market, but in times of necessity, like the old weaver in her shop, they broke the fourth wall between the show and the audience with smiles to communicate, bring it back to human interaction and understanding, charm many to stay, to enjoy their trip, to prove the hasslers wrong and prove to you and themselves that they're better than that. In that way, the old weaver gave a signal akin to Vest-jacket's finger gesture that said, "Despite the riff-raff of the world, you are most welcome and please try to enjoy your stay."
Friday, January 15, 2010
Cultural Tourism
Yesterday, Dereje and I visited the Adagar Museum in Harar. It is a
rather small place, but preserves a number of authentic and valuable
cultural artifacts of traditional Harari householders. We were given a
tour, in English, by a very nice young man who, every once in a while,
would pause in his explanation and say, quite sincerely, "Did you get
it?" Adagar Museum is a preserved Harar house-of-old. The walls, made
primarily of limestone, would have kept the residents cool during the
hot days and warm in the cool evenings--a climate I've grown accustomed
to in my short time here.
The first room we entered was where the family would spend most of their
time. An elaborately decorated and multi-leveled platform with throw
pillows is where the head of the house and his grown sons would sit,
with the highest platform reserved for holy men. Behind it were shelves
for the Qu'ran and other books that they would study, as well as wooden
plaques showing their achievements in these studies. On the wall nearest
the head of the household was a spear, which he could use to deal with
any disturbances outside. On the other side of the room is where the
women would sit, with a lower platform for any children. Above the door
were posts that were used to display rolled carpets, always an odd
number of them. As the guide explained, with some help from Dereje,
since the people recognized 9 planets in our universe, even numbers were
not used as a rule. Houses would have between 7 and 15 of these rolled
carpets depending on their ranking, and since this house had 11, it
showed that the residents were of very high standing; 15 reserved for
kings, and 13 for holy men.
Other rooms in the house were for food storage (although the kitchen was
located in a different structure), a bedroom, and a special honeymoon
bedroom which was later used for childbirth. The museum had decorated
its walls with wooden serving bowls of various sizes, from very large
serving bowls to small individual serving bowls. Another cultural
artifact I found interesting was a clay pot covered with what looked
like an overturned basket made of twigs; by placing children's clothes
over the basket and setting a small fire to burn an incense, the smoke
that was produced would keep insects away and protect the children's
sensitive skin from bites.
rather small place, but preserves a number of authentic and valuable
cultural artifacts of traditional Harari householders. We were given a
tour, in English, by a very nice young man who, every once in a while,
would pause in his explanation and say, quite sincerely, "Did you get
it?" Adagar Museum is a preserved Harar house-of-old. The walls, made
primarily of limestone, would have kept the residents cool during the
hot days and warm in the cool evenings--a climate I've grown accustomed
to in my short time here.
The first room we entered was where the family would spend most of their
time. An elaborately decorated and multi-leveled platform with throw
pillows is where the head of the house and his grown sons would sit,
with the highest platform reserved for holy men. Behind it were shelves
for the Qu'ran and other books that they would study, as well as wooden
plaques showing their achievements in these studies. On the wall nearest
the head of the household was a spear, which he could use to deal with
any disturbances outside. On the other side of the room is where the
women would sit, with a lower platform for any children. Above the door
were posts that were used to display rolled carpets, always an odd
number of them. As the guide explained, with some help from Dereje,
since the people recognized 9 planets in our universe, even numbers were
not used as a rule. Houses would have between 7 and 15 of these rolled
carpets depending on their ranking, and since this house had 11, it
showed that the residents were of very high standing; 15 reserved for
kings, and 13 for holy men.
Other rooms in the house were for food storage (although the kitchen was
located in a different structure), a bedroom, and a special honeymoon
bedroom which was later used for childbirth. The museum had decorated
its walls with wooden serving bowls of various sizes, from very large
serving bowls to small individual serving bowls. Another cultural
artifact I found interesting was a clay pot covered with what looked
like an overturned basket made of twigs; by placing children's clothes
over the basket and setting a small fire to burn an incense, the smoke
that was produced would keep insects away and protect the children's
sensitive skin from bites.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Harar Peugot
The Peugot taxis in Harar are some 50 years old, but seem to be in good
running shape. They drive up and down the main strip that leads through
new town to the gates of the 'old town' with its narrow, winding
streets. The taxis are packed with passengers, 3 in the back and 2 in
the front with a driver. I started walking from my hotel toward old
town, trying to hail a taxi on the way, to no avail at first. However,
after a few minutes, I got lucky and saw a taxi with some space in the
back, so I motioned to the driver, he stopped and I climbed in. On his
dashboard he had a nativity scene, such as one might see at Christmas;
the kind where if you turn it over, you can make it snow. There was also
a Christian cross sticker on the windshield and, I then noticed, an
American flag hanging in his window. When we reached my destination, I
offered him 10 birr, since I would pay at least that in Addis just to
get in a taxi, but the driver said it would only be 5 and gave me change.
running shape. They drive up and down the main strip that leads through
new town to the gates of the 'old town' with its narrow, winding
streets. The taxis are packed with passengers, 3 in the back and 2 in
the front with a driver. I started walking from my hotel toward old
town, trying to hail a taxi on the way, to no avail at first. However,
after a few minutes, I got lucky and saw a taxi with some space in the
back, so I motioned to the driver, he stopped and I climbed in. On his
dashboard he had a nativity scene, such as one might see at Christmas;
the kind where if you turn it over, you can make it snow. There was also
a Christian cross sticker on the windshield and, I then noticed, an
American flag hanging in his window. When we reached my destination, I
offered him 10 birr, since I would pay at least that in Addis just to
get in a taxi, but the driver said it would only be 5 and gave me change.
Harari Guides
As I walked around the old part of Harar, a number of self-appointed
guides approached me. Of all of them, the most interesting was, by far,
the one who seemed to be waving his arms around a lot. At first I
thought he was completely mad, but upon seeing him again the next day as
I walked around with Dereje, we figured out that he is deaf and serves
special needs tourists to Harar. With this new perspective, I realized
that the guy was communicating rather well actually. From then on as I
saw him walking around town, he waved and I waved back.
guides approached me. Of all of them, the most interesting was, by far,
the one who seemed to be waving his arms around a lot. At first I
thought he was completely mad, but upon seeing him again the next day as
I walked around with Dereje, we figured out that he is deaf and serves
special needs tourists to Harar. With this new perspective, I realized
that the guy was communicating rather well actually. From then on as I
saw him walking around town, he waved and I waved back.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Alem Maya well field
Today we headed south of Dire Dawa (pronounced "dee-ray da-wa", although
I like the alternate nomenclature bestowed by a friend [you know who you
are]: Dire Straits) and after about 30 minutes arrived in the town of
Alem Maya. There used to be a 14 meter deep lake located in the town,
where 7 boreholes were drilled for water wells. Today, these wells still
serve the surrounding area, as well as providing water to the town of
Harar further south. However, due to mis-management (on a number of
fronts, like the boreholes being drilled too close together, overuse by
local farmers, erosion and other environmental degradation, etc.),
within some 10 years, the lake went dry. We arrived at a field with 7
well stations scattered around it, and a dozen children watching their
families cows and sheep graze--this field used to be the lake.
As I walked out to one of the well stations, closely watching my step to
avoid the cowpies, I talked with one of our students--a hydrogeologist
working up north in western Tigray. I was impressed with his excellent
knowledge of the issues at hand, some of which I mentioned above. He
figures the water source will be completely gone in the next 4 or 5
years. Even now, the town of Harar can only supply water to specific
parts of the city each day, meaning residents are supplied with water
only once a week; as a rule, they must fill their reservoirs to use over
the next 7 to 14 days. There is now a massive 400 million Birr project
(nearly $31 million US dollars) to supply Harar with water through a 72
kilometer pipeline running from Hassaliso well field north of Dire Dawa.
However, because Harar is located in the highlands, they had to install
some 5 pumping stations along the way, and it is predicted that there
will be plenty of problems from leaks and whatnot. Three of four months
til completion, one can only hope this will be managed sustainably, but
it will require use of better anti-erosion agriculture techniques,
increased afforestation, and controlled water supply.
I like the alternate nomenclature bestowed by a friend [you know who you
are]: Dire Straits) and after about 30 minutes arrived in the town of
Alem Maya. There used to be a 14 meter deep lake located in the town,
where 7 boreholes were drilled for water wells. Today, these wells still
serve the surrounding area, as well as providing water to the town of
Harar further south. However, due to mis-management (on a number of
fronts, like the boreholes being drilled too close together, overuse by
local farmers, erosion and other environmental degradation, etc.),
within some 10 years, the lake went dry. We arrived at a field with 7
well stations scattered around it, and a dozen children watching their
families cows and sheep graze--this field used to be the lake.
As I walked out to one of the well stations, closely watching my step to
avoid the cowpies, I talked with one of our students--a hydrogeologist
working up north in western Tigray. I was impressed with his excellent
knowledge of the issues at hand, some of which I mentioned above. He
figures the water source will be completely gone in the next 4 or 5
years. Even now, the town of Harar can only supply water to specific
parts of the city each day, meaning residents are supplied with water
only once a week; as a rule, they must fill their reservoirs to use over
the next 7 to 14 days. There is now a massive 400 million Birr project
(nearly $31 million US dollars) to supply Harar with water through a 72
kilometer pipeline running from Hassaliso well field north of Dire Dawa.
However, because Harar is located in the highlands, they had to install
some 5 pumping stations along the way, and it is predicted that there
will be plenty of problems from leaks and whatnot. Three of four months
til completion, one can only hope this will be managed sustainably, but
it will require use of better anti-erosion agriculture techniques,
increased afforestation, and controlled water supply.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Dire Dawa
Today I flew from Addis to Dire Dawa, a large city in eastern Ethiopia. It's a more traditional looking city than the national capital, but the second most populous with some 260,000 people. Dire Dawa won an important place on the map when it became the bypass point for the Addis Ababa-Djibouti railway, completed in 1915. Due to rising costs to run the railroad through Harar, Emperor Menelik decided to keep to the lowlands and, under these circumstances around 1902, Dire Dawa was established.
Upon arrival, Dereje took me to my hotel. It is a newly built hotel and rather stunning, and I was further impressed when I was shown to a corner room with a spherical far wall with large windows looking out over the town. A door on the far wall opened out onto a large veranda--I could imagine having a BBQ with a half-dozen close friends out there--with a view of the patio and pool in the rear of the hotel.
However, I didn't linger at the hotel for long. I quickly took a shower and headed out to meet some of my Ethiopian colleagues for dinner. We headed to the Tsehaye Hotel Restaurant first, but when the waiter told us that they didn't have half the dishes we ordered, we decided to move to another place instead. It was just as well because we headed over to the Paradiso, generally considered the best restaurant in town. There we ordered tagliatelle with tomato sauce and a spaghetti dish along with some national dishes like kitfo, tibs, and roasted goat meat on-the-bone, as well as a Russian salad and a couple of beers. I ordered a Harar Beer, which people had been recommending since I mentioned I was going to eastern Ethiopia, and it was an excellent brew indeed. It went great with the dishes of tangy, spicy salsa-like sauce that came complimentary along with a basket of fresh French bread which we dipped in the sauce.
After dinner, we headed over to another bar in town for a couple of Dashen beers (brewed in western Ethiopia near Bahir Dar, a place I was able to visit last March). We sat at an outdoor table next to the street, and as we chatted, a crowd of people was walking by. Apparently they were returning home after watching the football (i.e. soccer) game that was being shown on the huge projector screen at the train station down the road.
Upon arrival, Dereje took me to my hotel. It is a newly built hotel and rather stunning, and I was further impressed when I was shown to a corner room with a spherical far wall with large windows looking out over the town. A door on the far wall opened out onto a large veranda--I could imagine having a BBQ with a half-dozen close friends out there--with a view of the patio and pool in the rear of the hotel.
However, I didn't linger at the hotel for long. I quickly took a shower and headed out to meet some of my Ethiopian colleagues for dinner. We headed to the Tsehaye Hotel Restaurant first, but when the waiter told us that they didn't have half the dishes we ordered, we decided to move to another place instead. It was just as well because we headed over to the Paradiso, generally considered the best restaurant in town. There we ordered tagliatelle with tomato sauce and a spaghetti dish along with some national dishes like kitfo, tibs, and roasted goat meat on-the-bone, as well as a Russian salad and a couple of beers. I ordered a Harar Beer, which people had been recommending since I mentioned I was going to eastern Ethiopia, and it was an excellent brew indeed. It went great with the dishes of tangy, spicy salsa-like sauce that came complimentary along with a basket of fresh French bread which we dipped in the sauce.
After dinner, we headed over to another bar in town for a couple of Dashen beers (brewed in western Ethiopia near Bahir Dar, a place I was able to visit last March). We sat at an outdoor table next to the street, and as we chatted, a crowd of people was walking by. Apparently they were returning home after watching the football (i.e. soccer) game that was being shown on the huge projector screen at the train station down the road.
Good Ol' Days
Speaking with one of my colleagues here, S, who has been coming to Ethiopia since the mid-70's, he said that the reason everyone orders cola along with Ambo mineral water these days is that, back then cola was so hard to come by that people would add a touch of it to mineral water to sweeten it up, sometimes at a mixture of 3-to-1 so you could pretty much see through the drink. There is plenty of cola around these days, but the tradition carries on. Having gotten used to ordering soft drinks with mineral water myself, I have to say that it is pretty good. It cuts the cola in a way that makes it much more refreshing, especially with a meal. Next time you crack open a Coke, why not give it a try? Oh, also, as a side note, I am endlessly amused that they always refer to Coca-cola here not as "Coke" but as "Coca". So next time you go to an Ethiopian restaurant with a friend, try ordering "huleutt ambo ena and coca efeullegallo" and see what happens.
Peony Garden
Last Sunday P and I went to the Chinese restaurant, Peony Garden (牡丹園), on Bole road which offers a sukiyaki-style dish, shabu-shabu. It is eaten by dipping thinly sliced meat into a pot of boiling water to quickly cook it, as well as vegetables that you submerge in the pot, all eaten with a sesame-based sauce. I'd been to Peony Garden before for other Chinese dishes, but since then, they've expanded half of their ground floor for shabu-shabu. Since the climate in Addis, located in the highlands, dips to light-sweater temperatures, it's a great meal to warm you up in the evenings. Now that I've reported to my coworkers about the availability of shabu-shabu in Addis, I have little doubt that I will return once again before my time here is out. Looking forward to it!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
13 Months
Today my friend P picked me up in his '75 VW Bug and we drove to the
Swiss Cafe for coffee. We were also joined by an old friend of his, Dr.
T. The two men have been working in the tourism industry for more than
30 years and it was interesting to hear them talk about attracting
visitors and what Ethiopia has to offer: 8 UNESCO heritage sites,
world-famous coffee, the various tribes in the south, and so on. They
also reminded me that Ethiopia's tagline is "13 months of sunshine",
which refers to the 13 months on the Julian calendar which Ethiopia
observes--12 months of 30 days plus a "13th month" for the remaining 4
or 5 days during which New Year's is celebrated, in September on the
Gregorian calendar.
Swiss Cafe for coffee. We were also joined by an old friend of his, Dr.
T. The two men have been working in the tourism industry for more than
30 years and it was interesting to hear them talk about attracting
visitors and what Ethiopia has to offer: 8 UNESCO heritage sites,
world-famous coffee, the various tribes in the south, and so on. They
also reminded me that Ethiopia's tagline is "13 months of sunshine",
which refers to the 13 months on the Julian calendar which Ethiopia
observes--12 months of 30 days plus a "13th month" for the remaining 4
or 5 days during which New Year's is celebrated, in September on the
Gregorian calendar.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
A Christmas Present
The second day after I arrived it was Christmas in Ethiopia. Since I was
still recovering from slight jet-lag, I had gone to bed early the night
before and woke up feeling refreshed around 5am. I got out of bed and
opened the curtains to find the holiday sun rising above Addis Ababa. It
seemed like a fiery head upon the sky's orange shoulders, and in the
foreground there were still lights on in some of the windows of the
houses below. Above a mountain visible in the horizon, two birds flew
across the sky. It was so gorgeous that if they'd had Santa's sleigh in
tow I would not have been surprised.
still recovering from slight jet-lag, I had gone to bed early the night
before and woke up feeling refreshed around 5am. I got out of bed and
opened the curtains to find the holiday sun rising above Addis Ababa. It
seemed like a fiery head upon the sky's orange shoulders, and in the
foreground there were still lights on in some of the windows of the
houses below. Above a mountain visible in the horizon, two birds flew
across the sky. It was so gorgeous that if they'd had Santa's sleigh in
tow I would not have been surprised.
Social Magnet
I decided to go down to El Roie, the restaurant in my hotel, for lunch. As
I headed through the door, I looked to my right and saw P, a friend of
mine from Japan who is working in Addis for a year. I had been thinking
of calling him to see if he wanted to get together for coffee this
weekend, so it was almost as if the universe decided to arrange it on my
behalf. P was having lunch with a colleague of his, and they asked me to
join them, so I did. Moments later two Italian guys entered the
restaurant and upon seeing P announced their pleasant surprise and
everyone shook hands. Five minutes later an Ethiopian guy walked in and
said what a surprise it was to run into P here. This reminded me of last
October when P met me at the lobby of my hotel to go out to dinner; he
happened to be old friends with the night manager, who happens to be the
day manager at the Hilton. Nevertheless, P is quite the amiable guy and
has been coming to Ethiopia for the past 20-plus years, so maybe it's no
surprise that he is somewhat of a social magnet here.
I headed through the door, I looked to my right and saw P, a friend of
mine from Japan who is working in Addis for a year. I had been thinking
of calling him to see if he wanted to get together for coffee this
weekend, so it was almost as if the universe decided to arrange it on my
behalf. P was having lunch with a colleague of his, and they asked me to
join them, so I did. Moments later two Italian guys entered the
restaurant and upon seeing P announced their pleasant surprise and
everyone shook hands. Five minutes later an Ethiopian guy walked in and
said what a surprise it was to run into P here. This reminded me of last
October when P met me at the lobby of my hotel to go out to dinner; he
happened to be old friends with the night manager, who happens to be the
day manager at the Hilton. Nevertheless, P is quite the amiable guy and
has been coming to Ethiopia for the past 20-plus years, so maybe it's no
surprise that he is somewhat of a social magnet here.
Friday, January 8, 2010
The Sign and the Seal
Yesterday I started reading Graham Hancock's classic, The Sign and the Seal, about the Ark of the Covenant--the gold-plated vessel in which Moses placed the 10 Commandments. Back in the 80's, not long after Hancock watched the movie "Raiders of the Lost Ark", he was commissioned to write a coffee-table book for the tyrannical Colonel-Lieutenant Mengistu, the then Head of State of Ethiopia. He heard that the "lost ark" was in a chapel in the ancient city of Axum guarded by a monk, and despite the ongoing battle with Eritrean fighters, Hancock and his wife headed to Axum for a single day to photograph the site, and while they were at it, meet with the guardian of the Ark. The Sign and the Seal is the book he published in 1992 after a 9-year quest of his own for the ark. A mix of history and mystery, it is thus far a great read.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Merry Christmas
Today is Christmas Day according to the Ethiopian calendar so yesterday everyone at the Center took a half day in order to start preparations. Everyone gets the day off on both Christian and Islamic holidays in Ethiopia, and everyone seems to enjoy the festive spirit regardless of religion. Christians go to church early in the morning for a service and everyone wears their Sunday Best, which for women is simple, but elegant hand-woven white clothing with decorative hemlines.
Last night my colleagues and I went to a local Chinese restaurant, Da Tang, for dinner. It is a massive four-story building although most guests dine on the second floor which has tables for 4 or 20 depending on the size of your party. A few groups where there, including an embassy group. We were seated by a Chinese waitress and ordered a few dishes such as mapo-dofu, sweet-n-sour fish, and chahan fried rice along with a round of St. George beers, brought out by the Ethiopian staff. During our meal, one of the Ethiopian staff came to our table dressed as Santa Claus. The black belt around his waist was pulled tight showing his slim figure, but he was enthusiastic and jolly enough to play the part well. He handed out red, decorative Chinese knots (zhonguo jie--a series of knots tied into a diamond shape with a single thread which symbolizes harmony, luck, love, etc) and wished us a Merry Christmas.
Last night my colleagues and I went to a local Chinese restaurant, Da Tang, for dinner. It is a massive four-story building although most guests dine on the second floor which has tables for 4 or 20 depending on the size of your party. A few groups where there, including an embassy group. We were seated by a Chinese waitress and ordered a few dishes such as mapo-dofu, sweet-n-sour fish, and chahan fried rice along with a round of St. George beers, brought out by the Ethiopian staff. During our meal, one of the Ethiopian staff came to our table dressed as Santa Claus. The black belt around his waist was pulled tight showing his slim figure, but he was enthusiastic and jolly enough to play the part well. He handed out red, decorative Chinese knots (zhonguo jie--a series of knots tied into a diamond shape with a single thread which symbolizes harmony, luck, love, etc) and wished us a Merry Christmas.
Smooth Arrival
I arrived on time at Bole International Airport and went through Customs
in about 30 minutes; apparently there were more travelers than usual due
to the upcoming holidays. I was somewhat worried because I forgot to
bring my inoculation card, but possibly because of the multiple stamps
already in my passport around my Ethiopia visa, they didn't ask me about
it. I then continued to luggage biting my lip thinking of J's "delayed
bag" last year, but my suitcase came out on the conveyor about 20
minutes later and I headed to the arrivals area where I saw Dereje
waiting for me. A handshake and shoulder bump ensued and then we headed
to the car. After cleaning up at the hotel, Dereje took me to Swiss Cafe
downtown so I could get a sandwich (ham and provolone). He had a Sprite
and we chatted for about 30 minutes, catching up on how the project has
been going while I was gone as well as how J was doing and how his
daughter was doing at school. It was nice to be back.
in about 30 minutes; apparently there were more travelers than usual due
to the upcoming holidays. I was somewhat worried because I forgot to
bring my inoculation card, but possibly because of the multiple stamps
already in my passport around my Ethiopia visa, they didn't ask me about
it. I then continued to luggage biting my lip thinking of J's "delayed
bag" last year, but my suitcase came out on the conveyor about 20
minutes later and I headed to the arrivals area where I saw Dereje
waiting for me. A handshake and shoulder bump ensued and then we headed
to the car. After cleaning up at the hotel, Dereje took me to Swiss Cafe
downtown so I could get a sandwich (ham and provolone). He had a Sprite
and we chatted for about 30 minutes, catching up on how the project has
been going while I was gone as well as how J was doing and how his
daughter was doing at school. It was nice to be back.
Live In-flight Entertainment
I remember when I was in my early 20s I always talked with people on
airplanes; I found it interesting to meet new people and fellow
travelers. However, over the years, I gradually began to keep to myself.
That could have been the result of living in Japan where people tend to
think it more polite to be courteous but not overtly friendly with
fellow travelers. It could also be that I'm an in-flight movie maniac
and since most international flights now offer seatback entertainment I
have been rather absorbed in movies, meals, drinks and dozing during
flights as of late. However, after my nearly 10-hour, 2-meal and 3-movie
flight from Osaka to Dubai, I was rather pleased to talk to the guy in
29B for most of the flight from Dubai to Addis Ababa. He was continuing
on to the flight's final destination of Entebe, Uganda for a 2-week
stint there as a volunteer for a charity to do survey work at a 100-year
old hospital site. He hailed from Bath, England and this was his first
time out of Europe at age 52, and really seemed to be enjoying the
adventure. We talked about Africa, Europe, America and Japan sharing
travel experiences, tips and some political talk and had quite a good
time. He told me that his wife, a school teacher, speaks German and
French so they often travel in Europe for exchange programs and have
exchange students visit them as well. Bath also sounds like an
interesting and pleasant town, and a UNESCO Heritage site to boot, so we
exchanged e-mail addresses at the end of the flight. "Let me know if you
ever have a chance to visit with your wife and we'll show you around,"
he said. "Great, and let me know how you find your first trip to Africa
and what Uganda is like."
airplanes; I found it interesting to meet new people and fellow
travelers. However, over the years, I gradually began to keep to myself.
That could have been the result of living in Japan where people tend to
think it more polite to be courteous but not overtly friendly with
fellow travelers. It could also be that I'm an in-flight movie maniac
and since most international flights now offer seatback entertainment I
have been rather absorbed in movies, meals, drinks and dozing during
flights as of late. However, after my nearly 10-hour, 2-meal and 3-movie
flight from Osaka to Dubai, I was rather pleased to talk to the guy in
29B for most of the flight from Dubai to Addis Ababa. He was continuing
on to the flight's final destination of Entebe, Uganda for a 2-week
stint there as a volunteer for a charity to do survey work at a 100-year
old hospital site. He hailed from Bath, England and this was his first
time out of Europe at age 52, and really seemed to be enjoying the
adventure. We talked about Africa, Europe, America and Japan sharing
travel experiences, tips and some political talk and had quite a good
time. He told me that his wife, a school teacher, speaks German and
French so they often travel in Europe for exchange programs and have
exchange students visit them as well. Bath also sounds like an
interesting and pleasant town, and a UNESCO Heritage site to boot, so we
exchanged e-mail addresses at the end of the flight. "Let me know if you
ever have a chance to visit with your wife and we'll show you around,"
he said. "Great, and let me know how you find your first trip to Africa
and what Uganda is like."
Fourth Time's a...
A few days after New Year's, on January 4th, I headed back to Ethiopia
for my fourth visit/assignment. Since my first visit in February 2009
I've gotten to know the country and culture somewhat and really enjoy
it. They say the third time is a charm, and it certainly was, so I
suppose the fourth time is, well, a pleasure to be back.
for my fourth visit/assignment. Since my first visit in February 2009
I've gotten to know the country and culture somewhat and really enjoy
it. They say the third time is a charm, and it certainly was, so I
suppose the fourth time is, well, a pleasure to be back.
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