Backtracking

After Addis Ababa, I flew to Dubai to catch my connecting flight to Sao
Paulo, Brazil. What I didn't realize until I looked at the flight map on
board was that we flew from Dubai, south over Ethiopia, passing right
over Addis Ababa. The plane shifted southwest around Tanzania and then,
after flying over Angola, crossed the Pacific towards Brazil. It was a
long flight, but Emirates has a lot of great movies, which I took full
advantage of:
Management, X-Men Originals: Wolverine, Up, The Ugly Truth, Winged
Creatures, Adam, Wall-E, and a half-a-dozen TV shows. Oh, I also read a
magazine.
Anyway, my trip to Addis has come to an end and the next trip begins,
but I do have some Harar Ethiopian buna beans in my carry-on and plan to
share some of the most excellent coffee on earth with my coworkers in
Brazil.

4 Hours to Dubai

On the flight from Addis Ababa to Dubai we had just enough time to watch
one movie and J and I selected "Julie & Julia". I have to say, it was a
great movie and Meryl Streep is outstanding in the role of Julia Child.
It had us laughing a few times, and we only stopped the movie once in
the middle--to scarf down our dinner. It was nothing like the recipes we
were watching be prepared in the movie, but the shrimp salad, lamb curry
and apple strudel (while not the most brilliant combination of food I've
ever experienced) were pretty good. After the movie, we had about 30
minutes, so J showed me her strategy to play Chinese Checkers, which
they had on their seatback entertainment system. A pretty fun flight all
around.
Arriving in Dubai, we dove into the extensive airport looking for J's
check-in counter, which we finally found at the other end of the
premises. The airport is absolutely massive, like a small city in and of
itself. It took some time, but we got her boarding pass and found the
right gate and I bid her adieu as she headed to Guangzhou on her way
back to Japan.
As for me, I took a seat in the lounge since I had about 10 hours until
my next flight, this time headed southwest. Nevertheless, I'll be back
in Ethiopia sometime early next year, so until then...

Last(ing) Impression

Bole International Airport is the first impression and the last
impression most visitors to Ethiopia have. What a shame then that you
are put through an exhausting regimen of security checks, and what an
irony that it reminds me of the security theater in America. After going
through security to get into the airport, complete with taking off belt,
shoes, emptying pockets, etcetera, we again had to go through security
to get to our gate. In between, we had to fight to get to the check-in
counter to send off our luggage (hopefully tagged properly this time),
and then wait in a long queue with line-jumpers to be processed by a
"reverse immigration" officer. We were told we would not be allowed to
take any more than $1000 USD and $200 Ethiopian Birr (about $20) out of
the country, but through all the security checks, it all just seemed to
be for show. After an hour or so, we reached our gate and lined up for
about the fifth time to board the airplane. The flight was half empty
giving us plenty of room to stretch out in the comfy Emirates 777 jet.
What a shame that this is anyone's last(ing) impression of Ethiopia. We
had a great time during our month in Addis and I look forward to coming
back in a couple months, but the fine experiences we have to boast of
from our visit are somewhat diluted from the final stretch that is their
airport.

Last Day

We decided to go down to Bole Road on Sunday, our last day in Addis. I wanted to take J to Limetree, a great cafe frequented by expats for its excellent food made from fresh ingredients. Limetree is also just above the Boston Spa, so I thought maybe it would be a good time to get a massage, but they only had Swedish, and J loathes oil massage so we skipped it. Up at Limetree, it was packed as usual with savvy Ethiopians and their European friends, but we found an open table by the window. I ordered a lime juice with mint and J had a sweetened lasse, and since we had just had brunch 3 hours before, ordered a sandwich and a veggie tortilla wrap to share. It turned out to be plenty of food and we both loved the sandwich: roast beef and walnuts with fresh cucumber and lettuce on brown loaf bread.
After Limetree, we tried to head over to the Addis Ababa Museum, where they apparently still have on exhibit the first telephone in Ethiopia and other such items of historical importance, but it was closed. We browsed in Book World, since a new branch had opened up next door, and then caught a mini bus toward our hotel. It stopped 3/4 of the way there, near the big Megenanga bus stop, so we walked around the corner and piled into another mini bus headed to Gerji. It was a fun day out on the town, but we both had some work to finish up before departure, so we spent the rest of the evening on our computers. Later that evening, J reminded me to do online check-in for our flight the next day, but the Internet was so slow, I ended up watching Swordfish and most of Die Hard 4.0 on cable waiting for all the pages to download as I changed our seat reservations so we could sit together. Well, at least I hadn't seen those flicks and they were pretty good.

Like Magic

On Saturday, we invited my Japanese friend P over to our hotel for
lunch. He is here on a one-year contract and is renting a house here,
but doesn't yet have much for his kitchen and eats out a lot. J thought
it would be nice to make him lunch and she had brought some things to
make miso soup and curry from Japan. The furnished room we are renting
while here is pretty nice and has a living room with two sofas and a low
table, so we decided to set up lunch there. P arrived around 12:30 and
we enjoyed a nice long lunch, then ordered some macchiato from the hotel
restaurant. P recently retired from his position at Ethiopian Airlines
so he told us lots of stories about his experience in the airline
business over the years. We really enjoyed his company and he even gave
us a laugh with a few magic tricks. He doesn't claim to be a
professional, but he has some good tricks up his sleeve and a practiced
sleight of hand. Then he told us that when he was first starting out
looking for a job, he had jotted the hobby down on his resume, and
passed his first interview with a big US airline when the interviewer
asked him to do a trick. After a few hours, P said he would get going,
so we bid him goodbye and I told him I'd see him in a couple months when
I come back. He headed down to his car and we could see him from our
balcony; unfortunately, P seemed to have locked his keys in his car!
Luckily, one of the hotel carpenters was nearby and showed P a trick of
his own: how to get a car window open without breaking it.

Toastmasters in Addis Ababa

As a member of Toastmasters International for some years now, at my local club in Tokyo, we have often had visitors from clubs overseas who were passing through town. I finally was able to get on the other side of that experience when I attended a Toastmasters meeting in Addis Ababa. I heard about the club from my friend P, who is also a member of my club in Tokyo, so on Wednesday night, J and I headed over to the Imperial Hotel where the meetings are held once a week. They had a meeting room on the first floor and some 30 people were already seated in the room when we arrived. We took seats ourselves and soon the meeting began with a round of self-introductions--20 seconds each person. Most members were well-spoken, and as the meeting continues, we heard some very talented speakers, including a prepared speech by a young member in his 20s that told us how he felt growing up pudgy in Ethiopia. He was now a rather slim, handsome guy but he showed a picture of himself at 14 and launched into his speech saying, "This fat, ugly kid is me," and continued with well timed, self-defacing humor. He told us when he was young people would accuse him of being the cause of the famine, and kids would follow him around and chant "du-ba, du-ba", meaning watermelon, watermelon. However, he wrapped up with a message that showed he was obviously very comfortable with himself, no matter how he looks. After his speech, another member took to the podium and said when he was young he was so thin that cruel kids would clap and chant when he walked by saying, "pasta, pasta!"
 J and I both enjoyed the entire meeting immensely and felt it was a great way to jump into a community of people and experience Addis Ababa. I will definitely attend again next time I'm in town.

Familiar Face

Last Sunday, J and I went to Entoto mountain to see the Maryam Cathedral
and Museum as well as the old palace of Emperor Menelik. We had taken
five mini buses to get there, but the scenery was well worth it. As we
were walking around, J noticed a familiar face; it was, Getachew, one of
the instructors from the training center. The day before happened to be
the day of St. Maryam, so he was visiting the cathedral with his friend
Kasahun. We were happy to see him and meet his friend, and they offered
to give us a lift back into town since Kasahun had his own car. We
quickly took them up on the offer, and since they hadn't see the palace
yet, we walked around with them again and talked along the way.
Afterwards, the four of us piled into the car and we headed down to the
Sheraton Hotel. The Sheraton is the best hotel in Ethiopia and the
compound offers a beautiful place to take a stroll, have coffee or even
listen to piano in the lobby. I'd never been there before, and I was
impressed with the elegance of the place. No doubt it would be a
comfortable place to stay, but in creating a little paradise in the
city, it lacked the distinctive and enjoyable character of Addis Ababa.
However, the hotel is open to guests who can pay for day use of the
pool, sauna or to go to the shops and restaurants on the premises.
As we neared the late afternoon, we stopped at La Parisian, a popular
cafe downtown, to have a drink together and relax while we chatted with
Getachew and Kasahun. It was nice to get to know them better and hear
about the region they were both originally from, further north in
Ethiopia. In fact, they had known each other for nearly 20 years and
work together a bit since Kasahun owns a driving school while Getachew
is trained as an auto mechanic.
When we finished our drinks, we said thank you and went our way, but we
were both glad we were able to spend some time with people we know here
away from the office and feel a little bit at home. Our morning trip to
Entoto turned out to be a truly fun day.

Hard Bargain

On our way to the Entoto mountains on Sunday we stopped at Entoto Market
to have a look around. A friend of mine in Japan, who had spent some
time in Tanzania as an undergrad, gave her first-born a Tanzanian name,
so I thought it would be nice to get a small souvenir for them from Africa.
Over the few weeks we've been here, whenever we go shopping, both J and
I are trying to improve our bargaining skills. There are stores that
boast price tags, but many places simply rely on agreement between the
seller and the buyer. We are usually able to talk them down a few
percent, and with the feeling that a native Ethiopian could still get a
much better price, we seem to hit a wall. Nevertheless, I don't get
myself up in arms over the fact that someone who does not speak the
native tongue and has not spent more than a few weeks here at a time is
going to be at a disadvantage when negotiating.
At Entoto Market, we tried a few new strategies, and ended up walking
out of a couple shops not buying anything. Most of the souvenirs here
are not for small children, so it was a bit of a challenge to find the
right thing in the first place. After a while we decided on a scarf knit
with African colors that they boy could use in the coming winter and,
hopefully, for some time to come. After talking the shopkeeper down a
few percent again, with one foot out the door, he was still not
relenting. So I did what I suppose every traveler must do; I calculated
the difference in the cost I would be paying in the US or Japan versus
the price I was getting here in Ethiopia. From that perspective, if you
are happy with the product for that price, you are better off getting
the item and enjoying it that beating yourself up over an imagined
inability to negotiate 50% off.
We left the last shop with souvenir in hand, quite happy, and then
enjoyed the rest of our day.

Entoto Mountain visit

On Sunday we headed out to Entoto, a low mountain on the north side of
Addis Ababa, about 300 meters above the city. Not only does this provide
an awesome view of the entire city, but getting away from the exhaust
fumes from the traffic in the roads below was, quite literally, a breath
of fresh air. Entoto hosts Maryam Cathedral, an octagonal structure
built about 150 years ago, as well as the Maryam Museum which features
religious garb and royal paraphernalia from the era of Ethiopian Emperor
Menelik and Emperss Taitu (1889-1913), of interest to tourists and
student groups alike. In fact, there was an enormous student group at
the exhibit that day, and they all sat on the floor--taking up almost
half of the one-room museum--to listen to what we assumed to be a
history lesson by a local priest. We were lucky to see the entire
exhibit before the speech started, so we headed on to Menelik and
Taitu's palace just beyond the cathedral. A self-appointed guide led us
through the compound and gave us excellent explanations in English about
the use of various buildings as well as how the walls and ceilings were
constructed.

On the 7th Day

After a very busy week at work, I was glad to reach Saturday and have a
day of rest. J and I slept in and then ordered breakfast to the room
while we watched the movie "Men In Black". After a while, the maid came
to make up the room so we went out for a while to return a DVD we'd
rented (500 Days of Summer) and stroll around the neighborhood. We found
a coffee shop called "Karibou Coffee" which looked pretty nice--even
though I'm pretty sure they don't have any caribou in Ethiopia--but we'd
just had breakfast so we walked on by. A few minutes later a wedding
procession passed by; in Ethiopia you'll often see a string of white
sedans driving down the road honking their horns with a camera man on
the back of a pickup truck at the head of the line taping the whole
thing. They were rolling along pretty slowly and came to a stop nearby.
Some of the members of the wedding party changed cars and then they
headed off again. At that, we headed back to our hotel and found that
the maid was finished, so we plopped ourselves back on the sofa.
We did manage to be somewhat productive though; J has been studying
English vocabulary for her TOEIC test in November and I've been making
progress on my Español for my upcoming return to S. America. Pretty
funny considering there are only other foreigners in this hotel--Italian
guy across the hall, an Arab couple at the other end of the floor, and
an Indian guy in the middle room-- so the staff say we are the Japanese
people, even though neither of us is Japanese. It's a regular tower of
Babel here!

I think I can

My friend P was entertaining our taxi driver on the way to the Top View restaurant, located at the top of a high precipice in Addis Ababa, when the small, blue Lada reached a steep incline and its engine began to rev. I began to chant "I think I can, I think I can," but the tiny car came to a stop and the driver, apologizing, backed the car back down the hill to make a second attempt in a lower gear. When that didn't work, we did the only thing we could think of--we got out to see if the car could go the remaining 100 meters or so to clear the slope. As we exited the car, a number of young children surrounded us and we all watched the taxi inch its way a bit further to no real avail. Suddenly a few of the boys began pushing the taxi and making some progress. I was about to tell them not to do such a dangerous thing, but then I saw P throw his weight behind the small Lada as well. Still with a ways to go, I ran and joined them too, and soon enough the taxi had cleared the slope. We waved thanks to the kids and jumped back in and the driver took us the rest of the way. No doubt, it was an interesting way to work up our appetites before the meal.
(*Click HERE for an image of the Lada)

Friendly Fire

Tonight we met a Japanese friend of mine, P, who is working in Addis Ababa on a year contract with Ethiopian Airlines. He has actually been working for Ethiopian Airlines for about 30 years, but usually is stationed in Tokyo, so this is his first long-stay in Ethiopia, but he knows this country well. Not only is P extremely well traveled, he is a fellow Toastmaster and he knows how to "work a room" whether it be 30 people or 3; he had us laughing til our sides hurt more than a few times during the evening.
We met in our hotel lobby and chatted for a while before deciding to take a taxi up to Top View, one of the finest restaurants in Addis, known for its spectacular view of the city from atop a high precipice. On the way, the taxi driver asked P if he was Chinese, but P didn't miss a beat in saying, "Me? No, I'm from North Korea. You like North Korea?" The driver must've been somewhat surprised, but seemed compelled to say yes, he liked North Korea. P went on, "Yes, we don't have much money, but we have spirit... and a nuclear missile!" Five minutes into the taxi ride, P had taught the driver to say hello and thank you in Korean, Chinese and Japanese and they were chatting like old friends.

Gati Thai

Tuesday, J came to the training center with me and hung out with me in
my office. At the end of the day we decided to go out for Thai food so
we had Abebe drop us off at Gati Thai, just north of Bole Road, across
from the UNHCR office. When we pulled in, it was about 5:30pm and the
place looked deserted; most people in Addis Ababa seem to eat around 7
or 9. Nevertheless, we were welcomed inside and took a table by the
window. The waiter took our order of egg rolls, green curry rice with
tofu, tom koh soup with shrimp, and a sweet noodle dish with beef, along
with a Pepsi and a St. George's beer. Soon after, a few others came to
the restaurant, and as we ate our huge meal at our leisure, the place
filled up. In the evening, Gati Thai keeps the room dimly lit with
candles on each table, so we enjoyed the ambiance. Around 7, we asked
for the bill and I asked the waiter if he could call a taxi for us.

"Lost", Part V: The Season Finale

Tonight: Ethiopia presents the season finalé to "Lost".
(See Part I, II, III and IV for backstory.)

Monday night we got a phone call as promised from Amir of Emirates Airlines, although he didn't have any new updates on the status of the baggage. However, as luck would have it, J had checked her e-mail when we got back to the hotel and found an e-mail from Malaysia Airlines. It stated that a bag they believed to be hers had been located and to contact them by mail or telephone. In the subject line was a new identification "case" number, so I told this to Amir and he said he would contact Emirates' Malaysia office right away with the news.
The following morning I received a phone call from another Emirates representative confirming that they had contacted Malaysia and the contents of the bag matched. I requested that they send the bag immediately and the rep said she would call me again with any new information, but we could expect to be contacted by Bole Airport Baggage Services if the bag arrived. Sure enough, Wednesday afternoon I received a phone call saying that the bag had arrived and we should come to claim it, so after I was finished at the office, our driver Abebe drove me to pick up J at the hotel and then we headed over to the airport.
The airport security attendants would only let two of us in to claim the baggage, so Abebe went to cover any Amaharic language problems since J is holding her own with English these days. I waited outside the main doors with the security guys and chatted with them for a while until, about 10 minutes later, my phone rang; it was J and they were at the exit. I excused myself from the security penalty box and the guys waved goodbye as I hustled down the walkway toward J. Soon I could see she was standing next to her bag so I pulled out my camera and snapped a photo of Abebe, J and her bag.
After some rejoicing and welcoming the bag back from its week vacation in Malaysia, we headed back to the car and then the hotel. The bag was still in fair condition and all the contents were there, although it was apparent that the bag had been opened by the airlines, but nothing was broken. J put her things away, finally feeling she had fully arrived; the feeling that she was missing something had dissolved. The following day, wearing her own clothes which she had packed for the trip, she accompanied me to the water technology center and finally met all the staff.

Stuffed at Ajanta

After having buna at Tomoca Café, we headed back down to Bolé road at Rwanda Street. There, near my old haunt, Chez Glo, there is an excellent Indian restaurant, Ajanta. Since we were hungry and Ajanta was on my list of places to take J, we headed straight over and took a table. Not sure what was good on Ajanta's menu--they have some 150 items on it--J left it up to me to order, which I did so obligingly. First I ordered the tikka chicken and the saffron vegetable pulau rice, and then two of my favorite curries: palak paneer (spinach and cheese) and dal toor fry (yellow lentil). J wanted something cold and carbonated to drink, so I got her a 7up and ordered a Meta beer for myself.
The food came not too long after and J was impressed at the first bite; everything was excellent. After about three servings each of all the dishes, we raised the white napkin of surrender and had the rest of the dal, chicken and rice packed up to take home. The next day we took the leftovers to the center for a nice addition to the squash and onion stir-fry J had packed for lunch.

There's coffee, and then there's coffee

Sunday J and I headed to Piassa where Tomoca Cafe is located. Tomoca is one of the oldest and certainly the most revered coffee dealer and cafe in Addis Ababa, and thus possibly all of Ethiopia. For a country that claims the origin of coffee itself, it is always a bit of a thrill to visit the fifty-year old cafe and enjoy a small glass of their buna (the word for coffee in Amaharic). We entered the cafe and I paid about 0.30 cents for two regular buna, took the yellow plastic chips over to the barrista at the back of the shop, and a moment later was carrying two glasses of their rich brew to a standing counter where J was waiting.
The coffee was strong and bitter, which suited me just fine, and J decided to add some sugar to hers. I usually avoid adding sugar to a good coffee since it can easily become too sweet and drown out the taste of the coffee, but tasting hers I was amazed to find that the sugar didn't dilute the taste of the coffee at all, it just balanced the acidity so that it was a little smoother to ones taste buds. Naturally, this has to do with just how much sugar you add, but I also attribute it to the quality of the coffee beans and the brewing method.

Those who wait

I had been planning to take J to the French restaurant Loti while we are
here in Addis Ababa, so Saturday we headed down to the intersection of
Bole and Ethio-China road by mini bus and then took a 5 minute walk over
to the restaurant. When I visited Loti last April I had been impressed
with their excellent leg of lamb, which I planned to order again, and J
was eyeing a pork dish on the menu that looked promising. However, when
the waiter came to take our order, he told us that they were out of both
lamb and pork. We glanced over the menu again, but in the end I decided
to come back another time. The waiter said he was very sorry, and they
would have the items soon, so I said we would come back next weekend. It
was a shame they didn't have the lamb or the pork, but it could say
something for the integrity of their food--I should hope--that they keep
things fresh or not at all. Nevertheless, we will give Loti a call next
weekend and make sure they have the dishes we want, and then head down
for some excellent French cuisine and possibly a couple glasses of wine.

Water Treatment Visit

On Friday we took a day trip to the capital of Oromia, Adama (also known
as Nazare) to visit a water treatment plant. The Awash River flows
through this area, and where the river turns sharply, they have set up a
number of raw water pumps to supply the facility. The setup is similar
to what you would see in Japan or other countries, with the water going
through a series of sediment pools to clear out any large and then
smaller particles before it goes through a treatment process with chlorine.
The purpose of the trip was for water supply engineers in training to
see an actual example of water treatment, meet with the chemist and pump
technician, and ask any questions they may have. The students were all
eager and taking notes during the 90 minute tour, and it was interesting
for me as well.
We finished the visit just after noon, so J and I headed to the town
center with Dereje and had a late lunch. Since it was Friday, a day of
fasting in Ethiopia which means Orthodox Christians do not eat animal
products, we had a vegetarian meal of enjera, wat and vegetables, which
was filling and tasted good. Following an after-meal macchiato, we got
back on the road for the 2-hour trip back to Addis. Reaching our hotel
just before 5pm and J and I collapsed on the sofa for a while.

"LOST", Part IV

See Part I, II and III for backstory. We are entering the final stretch!

On Monday morning I printed out the online case file created for J. Looking it over on paper, I realized that there were a number of mistakes that could be preventing the location of the bag; not only had they mistaken the color of the luggage, the flight call letters were for the wrong airline--Ethiopia (ET) instead of Emirates (EK), and the last two numbers for the luggage tag were wrong. So we headed over to the airport and showed the mistakes to Baggage Services. They updated the case file and said it would take two or three hours for the system to complete the new search.
Next we headed up to the Emirates "upstairs office", where a very nice guy named Amir told us to take a seat, listened to the details of the case, and wasted no time in trying to do everything he could to remedy the whole debacle. First thing he did was to issue the "incidentals compensation" which J was owed since she was a passenger away from her home address and her luggage was delayed for over 3 days. Then he emailed the Emirates offices in Dubai and Kuala Lumpur directly with the correct information so they could also conduct the search internally. I was also pleased when Amir agreed with me that Baggage Services had completely botched the job and he took special note of the name Zeb written on the bottom of J's claim document.
Since Amir was on the case and J now had some cash in her pocket, we decided to spend the rest of the afternoon at the shopping center. Amir promised to call me that evening to confirm the reply from the other Emirates offices, and would continue to contact me by telephone with any new information or at regular intervals, whichever came first; this guy had obviously aced his hospitality test in Airline school. As we exited the upstairs office, I looked ahead and saw a half-dozen window washers hanging from the rafters with squeegees in hand. "Ah, I think I see a future job for Zeb!" I announced, and we had a laugh.
15 minutes later we were at Friendship Shopping Center and J was checking out some new tops and trying on a pair of jeans. Next we hit a shop for J to buy face wash and face lotion, which she had been sorely missing. Lastly, we stopped at the grocery store on the basement level and picked up a few things to cook at home since our hotel room has a modest kitchenette. Feeling hopeful, we headed back to the hotel and awaited news from Amir.

"Lost", Part III

See Part I and Part II for backstory

On Friday we returned to Addis Ababa, still with no word from Baggage Services at Bole Airport. Our assistant K had called everyday and was told there was no new information but there was always the (rare) possibility that the bag could arrive on the next flight in. Luckily I had brought most of the essentials and J had taken to wearing my undershirts when we were in our room, so her new clothes were still relatively fresh.
Saturday evening my coworker M was headed back to Japan so we accompanied him to the airport. After bidding him adieu, we headed over to the baggage claim where there was a desk for delayed luggage. We spoke to a well-mannered young guy about what was being done to find the luggage since nothing had turned up yet. He told us that the file J created on Wednesday when she arrived was being used to search a global network, and he had no doubt the bag would eventually be found. He also suggested that since the bag had been delayed for more than 3 days that we fill out a report of the contents of the luggage. We realized that we really needed to get online and look up more information on how this whole search operation worked and what our rights were, so before giving them any more information we decided to go over to talk to an Emirates representative to see if there was anything they could do.
We didn't know where the Emirates office was so we just went to check-in, where we said hello to M again since he was still waiting in line. Nevertheless, we found a few Emirates service assistants that looked like they had some time on their hands anyway; two girls and three guys, trying to spray each other with a big ol' bottle of duty free perfume--luckily one of them was more interested in doing his job and came over to assist us. After pressing upon him the stresses of being abroad with no luggage, he radioed his office and informed us that since a flight was leaving in an hour, all staff were out of the upstairs office for the next hour; however, he assured us that we would be able to claim an "incidental compensation" because the bag was delayed for more than 3 days. Somewhat reassured that we were not simply being swept under the carpet, and since we'd already been at the airport for nearly 45 minutes, we decided to come back the next day and just fill out the baggage contents report back at Baggage Services.
That evening I searched Emirates and Malaysia Airlines' homepages for information on delayed luggage and found some documents in legal-speak about our rights (with lots of references to the Montreal and Warsaw Conventions; Wha?!), but also found an online search engine for luggage provided by the carriers. We entered her case number and last name and her file came up, showing her flight information, the type of bag, and so forth. We also saw they had entered the contents we reported and were feeling a bit better informed at least, but then I noticed that the luggage color they had listed was wrong; it was beige and brown, not black. However, it was late and there was little we could do then and there, so I bookmarked the page so I could print it out at the office on Monday if need be.

El Roie

El Roie is the name of the restaurant here at our hotel. Although we usually order room service in the mornings and eat breakfast while watching the BBC or checking email, today we headed down to the restaurant and had breakfast there. We were interested to try some things on the menu we hadn't had yet, like the "foul" and the "fateira", but didn't think we'd have much luck asking over the telephone. So we grabbed a table, asked for a menu and then asked what those two items were. The waitress told us that "foul" was beans, and when asked for more detail she said it was a bean soup, with black pepper, and was popular with guests from Sudan. The "fateira" was like a big chapati, she said; luckily I was familiar with the Indian fried flatbread. We ordered both items, and a couple of macchiatos. The "foul" soup actually ended up tasting pretty good, as did the fateira, which was served with sweet honey.

"Lost", Part II

On long flights, it's good to dress in comfortable clothes. However,
most people don't imagine that they will be wearing that same outfit for
the next week when the board the airplane. Similarly, J didn't expect
she would be roaring down the road to Awasa wearing beat-up old
sneakers, black velour pants and a green, zip-up Ambercrombie hoodie.
Before leaving for Awasa, she changed out of the off-white, high-neck
shirt she had on and borrowed a red t-shirt that I had, and although she
looked pretty comfy, hip-hop is not her usual style.
When we got to Awasa, night had already fallen but there were a couple
of shops across from the hotel that were still open. We quickly checked
into our room and then walked over with Dereje, who helped us
communicate with the shopkeepers. J decided that since she hadn't packed
any skirts, she would get one for (what she thought would be) the day or
two until her luggage arrived. She picked out a long, loose skirt that
had dark blue elephants and flowers on it (made in Thailand, go figure)
and after stopping at two more shops, she had a long-sleeve brown shirt
and some black slip-on shoes. Looking pretty cute in her new digs, we
thanked Dereje and then headed off to have dinner with a group of
Japanese volunteers that my coworker M had arranged to meet and had a
fun evening.

Why did the donkeys cross the road?

This morning in the car we had to slow down for two donkeys crossing the
road with loads of hay on their backs. They were crossing at the
crosswalk actually, and were hustling it pretty fast. Unfortunately
there was a fence between the road and the sidewalk and one of them
miscalculated his trajectory. One made it to the other side safely while
the other stopped and stood looking at the fence, unable to make the
four steps sideways that it would take to get past the fence. Drivers
are used to such things, so the poor guy was not in any eminent danger,
but I imagine he was feeling a little embarrassed about the whole thing.

Indifferent Eggs

The room service breakfast menu has a few attractive items, such as
french toast and pancakes, but I've been tempted since arriving here to
order the "Eggs indifferent style". I always assumed it meant they could
prepare eggs in your preferred style, and hence I suggested J ask for
"over-easy" the other day. In response, she was given orange juice and
an omelet, but today I thought I'd try my hand at ordering the eggs.
However, when I dialed the restaurant and asked what styles they could
prepare the eggs, I was told that it was a set dish: scrambled eggs
mixed with vegetables and tomato sauce. Well, it didn't sound bad so I
ordered it anyway, but was somewhat amused that the name on the menu was
pretty accurate; although I wanted eggs over-easy, when they told me
they didn't have that, I was pretty indifferent and got over it easily.
Plus, they really weren't half bad.

Ethiopia Presents: "Lost", Part I

This is a story that deserves to be told in parts. Not only because it
took place over a week, but because we experienced it by getting new
information in small increments during that time.

When J departed Tokyo last Tuesday afternoon, she took Malaysia Airlines
to Kuala Lumpur, had a short layover, and then flew to Dubai, a port
city for the Middle East region. Once she got to Dubai, she had a short
flight on Emirates Airlines to Addis Ababa, arriving Wednesday morning.
When she left Tokyo, with the two layovers, she was happy to hear
Malaysia Airlines could check her luggage all the way through to Addis
Ababa, so she only had her hand luggage--a small travel bag with her
travel documents, wallet, camera, glasses, a book of Sudoku, gum and a
chapstick--for the duration of the trip.
I went to the airport at 11am and waited at the arrivals area, and was
relieved to see her through the doors over by the baggage claim. I
wasn't able to enter through the arrivals doors, so we just waved to
each other and she continued to wait for her luggage...for almost an
hour. Eventually she spoke with a baggage services attendant and had to
help them create a file on their system to locate the "delayed luggage"
(apparently, they don't use the word lost anymore). Finally, she exited
arrivals at 12:20 and we were reunited; although there was some sadness
in the air, I was happy she had arrived safe after her long trip. She
showed me the paper they had given her, a simple handwritten form with a
case number, the date, and the name Zeb scrawled at the bottom, who was
the girl who created the system file. J said said that baggage services
would call us when her suitcase arrived.
However, we were due to hit the road and head south to the city of Awasa
immediately, so after a brief stop at the hotel for her to freshen up,
we stopped at the center and I handed off the luggage papers to our
assistant in Addis Ababa and asked her to let me know if she heard
anything. I had packed a bag for our two days in Awasa, but J only had
her carry on bag. Unhindered, we jumped in the car with Dereje; at least
we had a book of Sudoku and some gum.

Orange Juice

Today we have a guest post by my wife, as follows:

This morning I called the restaurant to order room service for breakfast.
I asked him "Do you have over easy?"
He asked "Orange juice?"
I said "No, over easy",
He keep asking "Orange juice?"
I could see he didn't get it, so I changed the idea and told him "just give me an omelet",
He said, "OK!"

Why we like Addis Ababa so much

Last Friday, after returning to Addis Ababa from Awasa, J said she could now appreciate the capital city. Although Awasa is a nice town overall, it pales in comparison to Addis. And of course one of Addis' star features is its plethora of restaurants. So that evening J and I and my two colleagues went to Aladdin (previously here and here and here), one of my favorite restaurants here, which serves great Armenian/Mediterranean dishes. As soon as we walked in, J said how amazing the place looked, with its tables and chairs draped in white cloths showing off the glimmering silverware and glasses, and the small fountain along one wall. I had the pleasure of ordering for us and I didn't hold back, requesting some favorites like the fattoush salad, the mixed kebab dish, fish palak and humous of course, as well as some other selections like an eggplant dish, mutabal and lentil soup. We all loved the food, and after dinner, J and I accompanied my coworker M to Bole Rock, a jazz bar in town, for a glass of red wine and to watch him play a number on the shakuhachi with the band.

Sunday's late lunch

On Sunday we slept in til about 10, had brunch at the hotel restaurant and then lazed around the hotel room for a while. I tried to catch up on some work, but got stir-crazy by the afternoon so we went down to Bole road by mini bus. I always think its fun to ride the mini buses along with the other Ethiopian locals. J even noticed that on the bus we took were a mother and daughter, a couple fashionable girls, and some intellectual looking guys. In fact, one guy who spoke good English helped us tell the driver where we wanted to be let off. When we got to our destination, we crossed the street and went to Makush Art Gallery and Restaurant, a great spot in downtown Addis to see some local artists' works and have a nice Italian meal. We ordered two vegetable soups, a tagliatelle topped with mushroom and zucchini, and a small spinach & eggplant pizza and then browsed the paintings as we waited for our food to arrive.

Day at the Museums

After getting back to Addis Ababa Friday night, the next day we woke up early, ordered room service for breakfast, and then headed out to the Ethnological Museum at Addis Ababa University. I had visited it before, in May, and had put it on my list of places to take J when she came. So I was happy to have a chance to stroll through the university campus together on a day with blue skies when many students were out sitting on the campus lawns chatting or reading. We walked to the building at the end of the path, the building which which used to be the palace of Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie, but now houses the museum, although the Emperor and Empress' bedroom has been preserved for viewing by museum patrons. The ethnological exhibit itself is extremely well done, introducing traditions of the many different tribes in Southern Ethiopia starting with birth rituals, then childhood games and folklore, continuing on to adulthood and marriage, then information about tribal livelihoods, coffee and food traditions, medicine, even warfare and, finally, death rituals.
One museum is usually enough for one day, but it was still early and the National Museum was nearby, where the exhibit of Lucy, the 3.2 million year old fossilized hominid bones, is shown. The National Museum also has some impressive paintings by national artists and other cultural artifacts, but can all be seen in about 30 minutes to an hour.
In between the two museums, we were able to take a stroll about 1 kilometer through town and stop at the cafe next to the National Museum, aptly called Lucy Cafe. I had been there before and had their pizza and a beer, but J recommended that we try their Ethiopian dishes. We ordered marinated lamb tibbs and shiro, a pasty curry made from lentil beans, on injeera bread; I still had a beer--a special export Bedele brew--and J had a fizzy Pepsi. Overall, we had a great time and enjoyed our day at the museums.

Lunch at Hotel Pinna

We are attending a forum for water supply, sanitation and hygiene today at the Hotel Pinna, where we're also staying while in Awasa. The participants include a number of international aid organizations, in addition to members from the Ethiopian Ministry of Water Resources. Needless to say, the lunch that was served for the participants was excellent! They had a buffet put out with just about every Ethiopian national dish I'd ever heard of, including an excellent doro kai wat, which is chicken and hard-boiled eggs in a spicy red sauce. J loaded up her plate with that, some veggies and a roll of injeera, and I had the ground beef in red sauce with a roll of red injeera, which is supposedly iron-rich. After lunch, we headed back to the room and I fell asleep for a long nap. I ended up missing most of the afteroon meeting, but will catch tomorrow morning's speakers before we head back to Addis Ababa.

Awasa TEVET College

This morning I visited a vocational training college in Awasa to
interview the instructors in the Water Technology Department. They were
more than accommodating to show me around and explain their curriculum
to me. We ended up staying for about 2 hours, going from the workshop,
to a water reservoir tank, to an outdoor hand-pump well used for
demonstrations, then over to a deflouridation tank, and finally to see
the classrooms before heading to a small room with sofas and low tables
for a round of tea and Sprite.

Arrival

Her plane arrived 30 minutes early, but J didn't exit the arrivals area
until almost 90 minutes later. Although her flight from Japan to
Ethiopia, via Malaysia and the UAE, went smoothly, at some point they
lost her luggage. She filled out the paperwork and the airport baggage
department will contact us as soon as they find it. However, in the
meantime, we were scheduled to leave Addis Ababa and head south to
Awasa, a city about a 5 hour drive away. I took J back to our hotel and
she had a shower while I ate a quick lunch and contacted our office in
Addis to ask them to contact the baggage department while we were gone,
and then we hopped in the car and were off.
When we arrived in Awasa, night had fallen, but there was a shopping
center across from our hotel that was still open. J only had the clothes
on her back, so we walked over and had a look at their shops. Luckily
she found a nice top, a skirt and some slip-on shoes that she liked. She
changed out of her stretchy, velor pants and a tee-shirt I'd lent her
and transformed into a charming young woman again. With renewed energy
we joined my coworker M for dinner, along with three Japanese volunteers
working in Awasa at vocational and prep schools teaching computers. It
turned out to be quite an eventful arrival for J, but a good time in the
end. I joked with her at the end of the night, "So, are you going to
lose your luggage on purpose from now on so that you can buy a new
outfit upon arrival?" She gave me a smack in the arm, but since she was
smiling a bit, I think I understood the real answer.

Ohayogozaimasu

This morning we had to go to the Hilton Hotel in Addis Ababa so I could
exchange money (USD to Ethiopian Birr). When we arrived at the front
entrance, an attendant opened the door to our car and gave me a bright
and cheery "Ohayogozaimasu!", which means good morning in Japanese.
Since it was only me (a white dude) and Dereje (a black dude) in the
car, the attendant (also a black dude) must have been somewhat
surprised, but since I nearly impulsively responded with
"Ohayogozaimasu" right back, and then continued with, "Eh, nande watashi
ga nihongo hanasu koto ga shiteiru?!" (=wait, how come you know I speak
Japanese?!), he asked, "Wait, are you Japanese?" I told him, "No, no,
but, well... kind of." Anyway, it turns out that he could tell from the
license plate on the car that it was used by a Japanese organization
since specific numbers are dedicated by nationality for international
workers. I should have told him, "Actually, I'm a 47."

Unappetizing

Today I ordered beef tibs for lunch at the center cafeteria. Tibs are meat cubes marinated in garlic and sauteed with green peppers and onions, and it's always served atop injeera, a crepe-like bread that comes with just about every meal in Ethiopia. I've had tibs at a good restaurant before, and it can be excellent when done well. The cubes of meat are full of flavor, and the injeera, which is slightly sour, is an oddly good match. The cafeteria, however, isn't known to have a rating in the Michelin guide, and you take what you can get. The choice is usually between an Ethiopian dish or soggy sphagetti, so I tried my luck with the tibs.
A few minutes later, the tibs arrived. As usual, the injeera is spead out over a large silver platter, and the tibs were in a silver bowl on top of that. I tore off a bit of one edge of the injeera and scooped up a cube of beef. However, as I ate my first mouthful, I saw a weird bug run from the other end of my plate; it must have hitched a ride on the underside of the silver bowl when they set it on top of the injeera. The bug apparently didn't like the taste of the meal either because it was running pretty quick. My coworker, M, brushed it off the table and onto the floor, where it landed on its back and began waving its legs wildly.
I looked at the bug, then at my meal. I was done, but in an attempt to be polite, I poked at my food for the next five minutes until I could escape when nobody was looking.

Meeting Hardship

I had an unexpected occurrence just before heading to the cafeteria for
lunch here. I was finishing up some work when I heard someone speaking
English down the hallway. A few moments later a tired-looking white
woman with long graying hair and a somewhat rugged jacket came to my
office. She had been talking to our receptionist, so when she asked me
if she could have 2 minutes of my time, I thought she was somehow
involved at our center. I invited her to sit down and she began,
nervously, to introduce herself as Barbara and tell her story. It didn't
take me long to figure out where it was heading. About a minute into her
talk, she showed me a picture of her two kids, so I figured she was soon
going to ask me for money (and I admit I was pretty annoyed at the
concept of a stranger coming to my office to hit me up for cash).
However, with some dignity, she explained that she was trained in
agricultural engineering back in her native Hungary, and her husband,
who had worked as a civil servant with the Ministry of Agriculture in
the past, was now training in Kenya on a scholarship. She was looking
for work while he was away and said she would even be happy to do even
office work if there was any to be had. I told her politely that this
center is for water supply technology and, although agriculture uses
water, we train people to drill 150 meter wells, not produce food and
that I didn't have any advice for her. She continued that she had been
living with relatives of her husband's nearby, and then, looking rather
desperate and her heart pounding, apologizing profusely, she, finally,
did ask me if she could have some money to buy food for her children.
She seemed sane but at her wits end. She didn't seem like a schemer,
although she had a "sob story". But I could see how being a foreigner
here didn't seem to be making things any easier for her. She had, in a
sense, gone native by marrying an Ethiopian man, having kids and living
here for the past 8 years or so, but wasn't accepted at all as an
Ethiopian by anyone, so she seemed to have no real support system. So I
leveled with her and I told her that, really, she shouldn't have even
been let into the front gate and if she came here again she would
probably be ejected. Then I explained to her that people are struggling
here at our center too; that the extreme inflation Ethiopia is now
experiencing is causing our staff just as much trouble. As I walked her
to the door, however, I did give her some cash that I had (equivalent to
what I spent on dinner last night), and wished her good luck, shaking
her hand. She thanked me profusely, and then quickly headed out with her
head down.
I remember when I was about 15, I got duped by some woman in Chicago who
said she needed $5 to get home, or some such story she had concocted. I
wasn't old enough to know that scam then, and although it was only $5, I
ended up being short $3 for my own train ride home that evening. Not
realizing the ticket office was open, I bought a ticket on the train,
which costs double in that case. At a complete loss, with an angry
conductor looking like he wanted to throw me off at the next stop, a
kind African-American couple interceded and lent me the money to pay the
conductor. I did what I could and thanked them profusely, and they
responded, "Don't worry about it. Really, that conductor was a complete
jerk."
I generally don't give cash handouts when there are other ways to help a
person, but as in my experience on the train, sometimes it is money that
a person needs. I'm not cold and heartless to the point that I can't
help someone who is obviously in dire straits and trying to make ends
meet with her dignity in tact. If I had known of a job opportunity for
her, maybe I would have tried to do something more (although I doubt she
had a resume hidden in her coat). So I did what I could do and gave her
some cash hoping that she'll make the most of it, and that eventually
Barbara finds a solution to her current troubles.

Changing Places

For this assignment, I chose to stay at Emmad, a monthly apartment
rental with suites for a reasonable price. There is a living room with
sofa and television, plus a large work desk against one wall, a bedroom
with dressers, wardrobe and queen-size bed, a restroom with a full bath
unit, and a small kitchen replete with pots, pans, knives and even a
coffee maker. It is clean and the staff are very polite, so I'm sure
this will work out great.
However, yesterday, before heading back to Emmad, I went to Chez Glo,
where I've stayed the other times I was here, to talk with M, a
coworker, and then go out to dinner later in town. Everyone at Chez Glo
seemed very happy to see me and I felt a little bad that I'm not staying
there this time. They actually made some improvements there too, such as
turning one of the large rooms on the first floor into a dining area,
and expanding their kitchen area. That really improves the
atmosphere--although it had a nice "homey" feeling before, now it feels
like a B&B. I gave the gardener and one of the housekeepers pictures we
had taken together back in March. They thanked me and told me to come
visit them again. However, staying at Chez Glo, I must use a slow
dial-up Internet connection, and since they lack a generator, when the
power goes out, everyone relies on candles. Actually, as M and I were
talking, the room went black and we used our cell phones to light the
room until the housekeepers brought the candles. We headed over to
Rainbow, the Korean restaurant nearby, and had dinner by candle light
too, until the power came back on about halfway through the meal.

Good to see you again

I was greeted by a smiling Dereje at the airport when I arrived. When we
shook hands, we leaned in and did a shoulder bump, and he patted me on
the back with his other hand. In the four months since I was here last,
he hasn't changed a bit.
The sky was a bit overcast, and the weather is cooler here than I
expected. Dereje said it was the first time he can remember that the
rain and cool weather has persisted into October and blames climate
change, saying, "We are already seeing the effects now".
I stopped at my hotel and checked in, cleaned up a bit and changed
clothes before heading out to the office. When I got back outside, the
sun was shining and quite warm--this is the weather I was expecting.
Arriving at the training center, I saw many of the instructors and other
staff, and there were many hand shakes and shoulder bumps to go around.

In-Flight Entertainment Aplenty

Emirates Airlines really does deserve the award for their "award-winning in-flight entertainment". There is a huge selection of good movies, and not only the usual top-hits, but a broad range of flims. I ended up watching a John Malkovich movie also starring Colin Hanks (and Tom, briefly) called "The Great Buck Howard", which was interesting. After that I watched the latest installment from Woody Allen called "Whatever Works", which is of course full of ironic, sarcastic and slightly embittered, yet endearing monologues and dialoges. After a bit of sleep and then a few episodes of The Simpsons (almost felt like Saturday morning as a kid to wake up and watch cartoons), I watched half of the new documentary "Food, Inc.", which stars Eric Schlosser, who wrote Fast Food Nation to great acclaim a few years ago. I plan to watch the rest of it on my next flight, which is about 4 hours, so I might also fit in the new Travolta and Washington movie (the one about the subway) or maybe "Angels & Demons".

Third Time's a Charm

Heading back to Addis Ababa for another 30-day stint, and there are no doubt a few more vignettes to be posted during that time.
This trip is also for business, but I've arranged to have my wife join me, so should add a nice new dynamic to exploring our surroundings, or just showing her around, and hearing her reactions.
Also, I expect later this week that we may go to Awasa, another city not too far from Addis, but one I have not been to yet.
For now, I'm in Dubai airport, which I have so say, is one of the most accomodating airports I've ever been to. Not only is there extensive shopping and restaurant selections, they have massive lounges with free wireless Internet and battery charging stations, decorated not with adverts but with Gate number signs and arrows, clocks and information flatscreens; everything posted in Arabic and English.

Back in Japan

After three flights, 23 hours and about 3 hours of sleep, I made it back to Japan from Ethiopia. I don't know why I was so restless, but that came with the benefit of having time to watch a slew of movies and television shows that were featured on Emirates "I.C.E." (information, communication and entertainment) system. The best one was probably "How to Lose Friends & Alienate People" which I watched half of from Addis Ababa to Dubai, and then the last half during the flight from Dubai to Osaka. I thought it was going to be about high school kids (since that's personally when I alienated the most people in my life), but instead I was surprised to find a goofy Simon Pegg (Shaun of the Dead) making me laugh in my seat. Naturally, it could have been the wine.

Back to Aladdin

Last night I decided to visit Aladdin, an Armenian restaurant, for my last dinner in Ethiopia. It's hard to find good Mediterranean food in Japan, especially at Ethiopian prices. We ordered the tabouleh, a greek salad with big green olives and chunks of feta cheese, and a mixed plate of kebabs, plus another dish that I can't quite remember the name of but tasted like beans crushed into a smooth paste and mixed with some light seasonings, which we ate with pita bread of course. We also ordered a couple Dashen beers, a local beer brewed outside of Gondar so not always available in Addis Ababa. We even ordered dessert, which for me was a sweet baklava variation and rich Turkish coffee. The bill came to more than we usually pay for dinner elsewhere, but a quick calculation and I realized it was less than $15USD each; this is the beauty of international eateries in Ethiopia!

Quick Fix

With an important delegation from the Japanese Ministry of Finance
(MoFED) coming to visit the water center today, everyone was hard at
work making sure the compound was in good condition. The head of the
center ordered that the cobblestone in front of the entrance to the main
building, which had shifted and become uneven due to heavy rains over
the years, be torn up and smoothed over. Since there was no time to get
masonry experts out to the center, a mechanic, a driver and one of the
guards set out with a couple shovels and a pick-ax to do the work. They
lifted the heavy stones and smoothed out the gravel below, then set the
stones back down and filled the space between with small pebbles and
gravel, occasionally testing if it was flat by laying a 2x4 across the
ground. After about an hour I came back out to see how everything was
going and they had finished, the cobblestone now level and hopefully
suitable for the VIP from MoFED to step across.

Calling it Close

On Tuesday, M was invited to speak at a water conference being at the
United Nations' Economic Commission to Africa. He was also leaving back
to Japan that evening on the 7:30 flight to Dubai, so the 5:30 start
time for his presentation was really calling it close. However, he
explained to the people arranging that particular event that he'd have
only 30 minutes or so and then have to exit early. When we arrived at
the ECA, we had to wait about 10 minutes until a person from the English
aid agency, DfID, who was running our event, could come down and vouch
for us, as the security guards were sticking to a strict protocol. The
conference hall was in the back of the compound so we walked past
half-a-dozen large buildings until we reached a curving road that swung
around to the entrance of the hall. Once inside, an international crowd
was milling about, the type you'd expect to see only at a United Nations
venue. After a visit to the ECA cafe, where M and the DfID rep planned
out his speaking schedule, we took a walk around to look at some of the
booths that were set up on the first floor. Finally, at 5:30 we entered
the conference room, which featured a huge oblong table with microphones
and headsets at each seat, and in the center, large, flat-screen
televisions facing all sides so that even the person seated furthest
from the conference host could see the presentation materials. At 5:40,
M gave a quick 7 minute presentation and then took about 4 questions
before we apologized and left for the airport, getting to the car just
at 6 o' clock. He already had his luggage in the car and he sat in the
very back of the Land Cruiser and changed out of his suit as our driver
raced through the streets to the airport. At a stoplight, a few beggars
came up to the car window, as they are apt to do, to hold out their
hands for spare change, although this time I'm sure they were surprised
to see a Japanese man getting dressed in the back. With Dereje's
excellent driving, we made it to the airport by 6:30 and M thew his
luggage onto a cart and raced up the ramp leading to the entrance of the
airport. Later, I received a text message that he had, indeed, made it
in time.

Alarming Rain

I woke up this morning 6 minutes before my alarm by what sounded like,
to me in my groggy state, the storm of the century. Luckily, after about
30 minutes, God seems to press the snooze button and the rain eases up.
It seems the rainy season has begun in earnest now, the intermittent
rain falling more and more harshly out of the sky, a few dark nimbus
clouds turning into a smoky, endless gray layer. The roads that are not
paved are turning further into a river of mud, those without shelter can
be see huddled under tarps while herds of goats stand under what brush
they can find.

Sales pitch?

This evening we ate at Ajanta "the jewel of India", which I maintain is the best place for dahl this side of the Indian Ocean. We started with soup (I had the palak soup, i.e. creamy spinach), followed by some of our favorite dishes there. After dinner we decided to order some masala chai, or spiced milk tea, so we called the waitress over. We ordered four teas, but she asked how many teapots we wanted. Not knowing how large the teapot was, we said, "four cups... four people." She responded by asking, "Do you want one-by-two?" We were still confused but figured that meant one teapot, two people, so we said, "two teapots, four people" thinking this had to be obvious.
A little while later she brought out 4 saucers, 4 slightly large tea cups and one medium-sized teapot. She placed the tea cups in front of each person and then began to pour tea into the first person's cup; she filled it practically to the brim. Later, we would all admit to thinking the teapot must be bigger than it looked to fill each cup that high. She filled my cup next; again, brimming with chai. Then she filled the next person's cup, practically overflowing. And finally, she began to pour the last person's cup, although by this point we all knew--even the waitress herself--that it wasn't a magical teapot. The chai trickled to a stop before the cup was even one-fifth full. We all looked at each other slack-jawed, and then at her. "Would you like to order another pot of tea?" she asked, to which we all burst out laughing.

Made-to-Order Macchiato

The way some people order their eggs sunny-side-up, overeasy, scrambled, hardboiled and so on, there are many things on a menu for which we might have certain, peculiar preferences. For example, my father is infamous for telling any waitress that he wants his breakfast bacon burnt. Of course, the cook will usually interpret this as being simply well-done, but he isn't kidding when he says burnt, so to avoid having to send it back, my father has developed a certain way to impress upon the cook just how burnt he wants it: "kill it twice and burn it three times until it's dead five times over". Well, I'm paraphrasing, but something to that effect.
Likewise, today when we went out to lunch with one of the course coordinators, he told the waitress how he wanted his macchiato (espresso and steamed milk). He said something in Amharic that made the waitress laugh out loud so I asked him what he said. He told me he likes his macchiato to taste almost like hot chocolate, so he always instructs the waitress to make it the same color as his face.
A few minutes later, much to his disappointment, the macchiato arrived with too much milk, looking more like my face. Trying to cheer him up, I suggested he help out whoever is operating the espresso machine by handing out wallet-sized photos of himself from now on whenever he orders.

Bakery breakfast

The guesthouse always serves an ample amount of fruit for breakfast along with pancakes or eggs, but once in a while we get something from Saay Pastry shop. Saay is one of the more celebrated shops in town, and sometimes you can see their corporate van parked around town probably picking up supplies or maybe making deliveries. Saay is a large, two-story building on Bole Road with both cafe and outdoor terrace seating, and always looks to have a good number of customers. I've never gone in for just a pastry, but sometimes the guesthouse serves selections from there for breakfast, taken from brown paper wrapping with Saay Pastry printed in red on the side. Last Friday we had Saay doughnuts, and this morning we had croissants. Both the doughnut and the croissant were not as sweet as something you'd find in America or Japan. The doughnut, which was about twice the size of, say, a Krispy Kreme, was very lightly fried, not oily and subtly sweet. Likewise, the croissant was light and chewy on the inside, but not flaky or buttery. Both of these went extremely well with the dark, percolated Ethiopian coffee, which is always prepared in an insulated pitcher sitting on the table. I have to say, I like the usual pancakes or eggs, but I look forward to the days we get something from Saay.

Plan B

Today I planned to go to Aladdin for lunch; it's one of my favorite restaurants in Addis and the one I chose for my last night in the city last time I was here. When I go out with my Japanese colleagues, we almost always share our dishes (a hard habit to get them to break), so today I thought I'd sneak over there by myself with a novel under my arm and pig out on my own! On my way over, I took a back road and passed by a soccer field with about half the neighborhood crowded around as spectators. There was a great game on, which I assume was just amateur level, but they were pretty darn good; a couple times I had to suppress a jeer at the opposing team's defense line. However, my grumbling stomach got the best of me and I continued my trek to Aladdin... only to find it closed for lunch on Sundays.
Plan B, I headed down Bole Road to try and find Loti, a French restaurant that had an interesting review in my guidebook. Just across from the JICA office, I walked into the nondescript building and took the elevator up to the third floor. There was a sign that showed Loti Bar to the left and Loti Restaurant to the right, and I headed to the right. The place was empty except for a distinguished-looking, French-speaking African family of four at the far end of the restaurant. I took a table and perused the menu. The prices were a bit on the high side, but I figured if I was going to splurge on a lunch, now was the time to do it. I ordered the roast leg of lamb, a glass of merlot and a small bottle of water (it was a bit hot outside on the walk over).My dish arrived under a silver platter cover, which the waiter removed after placing the plate in front of me, revealing an eloquent looking meal. The lamb, which was prepared slightly rare but cut easily, was covered in a rich sauce and accompanied by steamed carrot, spinach and zucchini and a rice pilaf shaped into a little plateau. I tried to savor every bite, but it didn't take long before I was patting my lips with my napkin, and the afternoon was still young so I asked for the dessert menu. Ten minutes later I had a plate of four miniature choux a là creme and an delicate cup of espresso. The dessert wasn't quite as exquisite as the meal was, but struck a fine balance with the bitter sips of espresso and the view of the city from the large window in front of me. I sat back and read a few more pages of my book before paying the check and heading back to Chez Glo, very full, very satisfied and now wondering where I will go for my last dinner in Addis on Wednesday night.

Afternoon out

Today I took a minivan taxi to the Hilton Hotel to use their ATM machine and then grabbed a taxi over to Tomoca coffee shop. Tomoca was packed with people so it took a while to get the attention of the one woman behind the register. I finally got my turn and ordered some of the different coffee beans they had on offer, Jima, Harar, Sidama and Weliso, along with a cool postcard of dog with the figure of Emperor Haile Selassie (1930-1974) in the background. As I waited for my buna beans to get bagged, a few other out-of-towners strolled in: one bought six 500g bags of coffee beans, another bought 4 over-sized postcards, and two bought cappuccinos before asking me if I knew any good artifact dealers in town. After I was done at Tomoca, I headed back to Chez Glo and knocked on the gate. No one came, so I knocked a few more times and waited, but still no one. Soon, the gardener appeared, but on the wrote side of the gate. He also knocked and we both waited, until he suggested I call M who might be in his room. Luckily M came out and opened the gate for us, exactly 3 minutes before the heavens opened up and it began to pour rain.

Bole Rock

Last night we went out to Zebra Grill for dinner, a barbecue place that I had been to once before that, surprisingly, serves a pretty good beef burrito. After our meal, one of my colleagues here, "M", said he was going to head over to Bole Rock, a jazz club with live music every Friday night. "M" started going there last month (after I'd already left back to Japan) and said it was a lot of fun, so we all decided to join him.
When we arrived the 6-piece band was playing their hearts out, with keyboard, drums, bongos, bass, guitar and baritone saxophone. We ordered a couple dark beers on tap and sat on the big sofas located in the center of the club with a great few of the band. The waiter also prepared a plate of popcorn and pound cake and brought it to us free of charge, which was nice.
When we sat down, M gave a wave to the band and the sax player waved back. Later in the song, during his solo, the saxophonist walked around the club playing for people in the back, sitting on the arm of the sofa with us for a couple moments, and just getting people tapping their feet. The whole place was really into it and there was a great vibe.
A few minutes later, M was taking something out of his backpack, and I realized it was a shakuhachi, a Japanese wooden flute. When the next song started up, M hopped up on stage and started riffing with the band; it sounded great. At one point during the jam, the shakuhachi and the saxophone were playing off each other and then the guitarist followed up with some quick fingerwork. They were really in full swing, and when the song came to an end, they got huge cheers from the audience.
Since M practices his instrument in the evenings after work and on weekends for about an hour each day, I knew he was pretty good, but with the jazz band, his talent was obvious. We were all glad to have come with him and had the chance to see him play, and I was happy for M to have found this group of musicians since he is assigned to Ethiopia so often. Plus, they apparently recorded the jam session so, who knows, I might be able to post it on the blog sometime if I can get myself a copy.

Devoid of variation

Most Ethiopians eat pretty much the same thing day in and day out: injera (flatbread) and wat (stew). When my colleague S was in Ethiopia some 30 years ago as a volunteer, he was stationed out in the countryside for extended periods of time. He said he had no choice but to eat doro wat (chicken stew loaded with copped onion and spices) and injera for breakfast, lunch and dinner; that was simply all everyone ate. They would make a big pot of doro wat and then simply re-heat it for days until it was gone... and then likely just make it again. Thus, S suggests that Ethiopians generally stay thin because there is very little urge to overeat when you are eating the same thing all the time.

Tolerance

According to some accounts, the Muslim population of Ethiopia is about
30% whereas the Christian population comes to nearly 65%. However, a
look at Ethiopian history shows there have been periods when Muslims
were coerced to yield to a predominant Christian culture, so the
accuracy of these numbers is up to interpretation. Nevertheless, no one
can deny that Ethiopia today--where Muslims and Christians live
side-by-side--demonstrates the kind of tolerance that is necessary for
real religious freedom to flourish. For example, a Christian may marry a
Muslim, but it is not necessary for the couple to chose one type of
ceremony over another. Instead, they may freely chose to combine the
traditions so that leaders from both religions may be present and
participate in the ceremony.
At least one of the instructors, E, at the water center is Muslim and he
told of his studies in England when he lived with four other Ethiopians
in a house owned by a man from Bangladesh. This landlord would come in
the morning to collect the rent when the men were sharing breakfast, and
they invited the man to join them. The landlord was a Muslim and,
inquiring about everyone's names, he came to realize that two of the
roommates were Christian, so he asked E how he could share food with
these men. Up until then, E had never considered it to be a problem;
only from this man's intolerance did he realize that some people would
find offense. So from then on they no longer invited him inside, they
only provided him with his rent money. One can only hope that this
landlord also learned something, since he did allow them to remain
renters, and considered the tolerance between these Ethiopian Christians
and Muslims as something that is possible, peaceful and desirable.

Traditions through language

When we enter the cafeteria, people will say "noor" to welcome us to sit down and join them. The proper response to this is "begezihar" (pronounced--at least to my ears--"bug-ah-zee-are"), which is "Thanks to God" since, traditionally, people do not say "thank you" but give the gratitude to God. Also, conventionally, people share a meal that is placed on one large plate with strips of rolled injera bread, such as we ate at Habesha restaurant last night (here). In the cafeteria everyone receives their own dish, but still, people might say "enbla" (pronounced "un-bu-la") to initiate the meal so everyone can start eating.

Zenab=Rain

The past three days we've seen rainfall. This is very unusual for the
month of May, which is usually one of the hottest months of the year.
The rains usually begin in June, and even then, only sporadically, but
we've been getting those intermittent bursts of rain and it's only
mid-May. Tuesday and Wednesday we saw rain in the late evening, but
today we saw a downpour during the lunch break. We watched from the
safety of the cafeteria and luckily, as we sipped our macchiato at the
end of the meal, the 15-minute storm came to an end.

Chatrooms

During a morning coffee break, we spoke with some of the staff here about some "counterculture" activities in Ethiopia; specifically, stimulants. Indeed, coffee itself is a stimulant, and Ethiopia is considered the home to the buna bean, but this morning we were discussing a narcotic plant. Overall, I feel that Ethiopia projects an exceedingly sober country, which could in part be an effect of their mild climate; however, Ethiopia does have a culture of chewing a leaf called chat. Apparently there are chatrooms around town where you can go to buy and chew this stimulant following a short ceremonial preparation. In total, a proper chat ceremony can take up to 6 hours, while the effect of this narcotic, a feeling of euphoria and clarity, a state of mind they refer to as merkana, lasts about 2 hours. The description reminded me of what people say of the hashish bars in Amsterdam. At the Ethnological Museum I visited last Sunday, there was a display of medicinal plants used in the various regions of Ethiopia and, of course, chat was among them. This plant obviously has a long history in this country, maybe much akin to the coca leaf amongst Andean mountains tribes, and so remains legal here despite its addictive properties, although in the country's urban areas I would guess it is not used with the same deference as it may be in the rural areas. Nevertheless, every place in the world harbors such counterculture and it was refreshing to hear a straightforward description of this without a gloom of shame.

Habesha

Tonight a group of us went to Habesha, widely recognized as the best Ethiopian restaurant in Addis Ababa. I expected something a bit high-class, but the atmosphere was more comfy than classy, lit mostly by candles and dim lights. We sat around two low, round pedestal-footed tables and ordered a round of taj, or Ethiopian honey wine, and two dishes of injera (flatbread) and various types of wat (stew) and kitfo (meat). Since you are supposed to eat with your hands in Ethiopia, the waitresses brought out a porous metal dish with a bowl underneath to wash our hands. There was a bar of soap on the dish and they poured water from a jug over our hands as we washed them at the table.
During dinner there were various performers singing traditional Ethiopian love songs along with a keyboard player, and at one point and man and woman dancing duo showing the customers some traditional, but lively dance steps. The taj wine supposedly packs a pretty strong punch, and although I felt fine, one of my colleagues jumped up and did a jig along with the restaurant dancers. It was rather unexpected, and will probably be talked about for months to come, but no harm done and fun nonetheless. We ended the meal with a round of buna (Ethiopian coffee) and a few slaps on the back. Four of our colleagues will be going back to Japan this Friday so we bid them farewell and wished them a safe trip, then headed home.

"Po-tsoon po-tsoon"

"Po-tsoon" is the Japanese onomatopoeia for big, fat raindrops hitting the ground. Since yesterday, it seems like we've suddenly entered the Ethiopian rainy season as both nights it has begun to po-tsoon rain around 8pm. Tonight the rain is accompanied by thunder and a fairly impressive light show in the sky with no signs of it letting up. And to add to the excitement, the power suddenly cut so my room is now illuminated by a single candle, the glow of my laptop and the occasional flash of lightning visible through the thin, white window drapes.

Four-lane feat

If the first time I was in Addis I thought the donkeys were funny, this
time it's the goats that are cracking me up. The other day K and I took
a side street on our way to Ajanta to avoid the cars and pedestrians on
the main road, and instead we ran straight into a herd of about 20 goats
turning a corner. Today I saw a man crossing the 4-lane main highway
dragging a goat in each hand. He reached the waist-high median wall,
scooped up the goats under his arms and flung them over, then hopped
over himself and traversed the rest of the roadway to the pavement on
the other side. It was an amazing show of acrobatics by both beast and man.

Full Course Meals

Both yesterday and today I went out to lunch at places that offer a full course lunch menu. The portions are generally more than I would usually order and the price of both places was 75birr, which is expensive for lunch here, but in reality, less than $7.

Yesterday: Crown Hotel
Just a few minutes drive from the water center in Kality, this hotel was built some 30 years ago and has been kept in good condition. The first floor restaurant offers Ethiopian fare while the second floor offers a more European selection. We were the only customers and an older gentleman in a vintage looking suit attended to us. I chose a selection of salad, cream of chicken soup and roast beef, which also came with a basket of rolls and coffee. The room was octagonal and softly lit by diffused sunlight coming through the balcony doors along the outside wall; since we had the place to ourselves, we propped open one of them to get a nice breeze.


Today: Il Caminetto Restaurant
A hidden gem located behind a shopping center just after the roundabout coming from Bole International Airport, the sign boasts an "antique Italian flavour". Walking through the compound walls that surround it, you feel like you're in a little village. The restaurant is made up of three large hut-like structures made of thick, painted reeds, which does not remind anyone of Rome, but was pleasant nonetheless. The course came with a pasta and a main dish; I chose the penne ragú and fried fish, which turned out to be excellent. They served a basket of lightly toasted French bread as well, which I used to scoop up the leftover meat sauce from my pasta. The lightly fried white fish came with half a lime, potatoes and steamed spinach leaves. To finish the course they served a glass dish of fruit salad and coffee.

Now, the only problem with these extravagant meals is that, even with a cup of coffee after the meal, despite efforts-- loosening your belt buckle, rolling up your shirt sleeves--there is no escape from the lethargy of a full stomach in the afternoon.

Procession

On Sunday, as I was walking down Bole Road (the city's main trunk road)
I saw on the other side of the street a procession of people marching
where traffic should have been. I quickly tried to snap a few photos of
the 50 or so people parading down the road, followed by a pickup truck
with a half dozen soldiers in the back holding rifles.
A few minutes later I was in a minibus taxi headed in the same direction
of the parade. We soon caught up with it and I noticed most of the
people were wearing shirts that said Red Cross on them. They were
marching to Meskal Square in the center of town where I could see there
was some kind of event in progress.

Jack be nimbus

As we filed out of the office to head home for the day, I looked up and saw a sky threatening rain. With the exception of two or three afternoon sun-showers back in March, I hadn't really seen it rain in Addis Ababa while I've been here. However, there was no mistaking that the nimbus clouds above weren't going anywhere. At 7pm, when my colleagues and I usually meet to go out to dinner, it was a night sky, cool air but no rain.
We walked about ten minutes to Botan-En (Peony Garden), a Chinese restaurant located on Bole Road between the airport and our guesthouse. After a failed attempt to get the large table in the upstairs dining area (there were only three of us), we headed back to the first floor and were seated at an equally large round-table, but in a private room... Well, private except for the fact that the framed glass door contained no glass so that there was simply a door frame with a door handle which the waitresses stepped straight through to serve our food. After finishing a simple meal of fried rice, pot stickers, mabo tofu, hot & sour soup and a couple Castel, I glanced through our door frame and out the restaurant's front window; I could see cars had their windshield wipers waving back-and-forth.
We decided to wait out the rain at La Parisianne, the café/patisserie across the street. Although they had officially closed 15 minutes earlier, at 9pm, they were still serving fresh juice to non-umbrella holders. I had tried the coffee at La Parisianne before, but next time I will definitely order the half-and-half juice again: freshly-squeezed orange juice topped by a layer of strawberry smoothie in a glass mug, replete with bendy straw, for only 12 birr (about $1). Twenty minutes later it was still raining, so we covered our heads and waved down a taxi in the rain, slightly damp but free of incident. 

Sunday Rush Hour

Late Sunday morning I ventured out to both the National Museum and Ethnological Museum. Afterwards, I decided to drop by Piazza and see if I could buy some coffee beans from Tomoca Coffee and also another Ethiopian jebena coffee pot. When I was ready to head back to the guesthouse, it was about 5pm. I tried to catch a minibus taxi and waited near an intersection where I saw a number of them stopping. However, they were either too full or seemed to be going in a different direction, so I decided to hike over the hill and stop at the Hilton Hotel to hit the ATM machine there. The walk was a little further than I had suspected, so when I was done at the Hilton I tried to catch a regular taxi, but all of the ones that passed appeared to be occupied. I walked down another hill down to Meskal Square, which is basically in the center of town. There, I stopped by a refreshment stand, paid 3 birr (27¢) for a lukewarm 7-Up and downed it.
I had already walked a few kilometers from Piazza, crisscrossing through town, up and down the slopping landscape. Now it was past 6pm and the traffic, both auto and pedestrian, seemed heavier than ever. I approached a crowd of people standing on a street corner trying to catch a minibus taxi; when one would stop, people would hustle as quickly as possible to the sliding door to try to get a seat. However, since each vehicle only had enough room for one or two more people, it seemed that the crowd was merely growing and I resigned myself to the fact that I'd either have to beat some old woman to the seat or keep walking. I trudged another 10 minutes before I could flag a taxi, jumped inside and asked him to take me to Rwanda Street, thankful to finally be able to rest my legs.

Return to "the Don"

Tonight was my third visit to Don Vito Italian Ristorante in Addis Ababa, and my third time to have their cannelloni de ricotta. At first I was worried because they no longer had it on the menu, but luckily, when I asked the waitress, she checked with the kitchen and they said they could make it. We also tried their lasagna and two spaghetti dishes--carbonarra and champignon--all of which was excellent. Antica Italian restaurant wins hands down for their spinach lasagna, but Don Vito gains major points in upscale atmosphere, prompt seating and their insalata di frutti fresca con gelato, i.e. fruit salad with a small scoop of "ice cream" on top, that I had for dessert. In addition, two of my colleagues ordered caramel creme puddings and went on and on about how amazing it was, such that I have a feeling this won't be my last visit to "the Don" this time around.

Lucy Cafe

After an hour or so spent at the National Museum, where the 3.2 million year old bones of Lucy lie in a display case (well, the actual bones are in the archives and a cast is presented in the case) laid out in the formation they were found, I headed over to the Lucy Cafe located next to the museum. The place is like a safe-haven against the urban chaos outside its gates. It is an outdoor restaurant with a parkland atmosphere, paths winding along a row of booths to the left when you walk in or straight ahead to a cluster of round, glass tables under canopy umbrellas. Uniformed servers brought me a menu and I see they have Bedele beer, one I hadn't tried yet. It was already past lunchtime, but I'd not yet eaten so I decided to get a medium chicken & avocado pizza, my grumbling stomach assuring me that I could finish it. The other restaurant patrons, judging from what I could tell, seemed to be from China, Europe and other African countries. Since I was not alone as a tourist in this setting, I unabashedly pulled out my travel guide and read through it as I sipped my beer in a glass goblet. I studied the maps for Addis Ababa and then read the sections on Lalibela and Mekele, two towns up north I have yet to visit. My pizza arrived; big slices of avocado, chunks of chicken, green peppers and bubbling mozzarella cheese and over the next 30 minutes or so I savored each and every slice. If Lucy was alive today, I'm sure she would be proud to have such a fine restaurant named in her honor, although, realistically, since she lived before the discovery of fire, she would probably have ordered something like raw lizard and a bowl of rainwater.

Developing Atmosphere

Last Saturday for dinner we decided to hit Ajanta (previously here and here), probably the best Indian restaurant in Addis Ababa. When we left the guesthouse, there was no indication of a power outage, but by the time we got to Ajanta, it was dark inside. However, in a slowly developing country like Ethiopia, where the electricity is prone to cutting out at a moment's notice, you learn to expect the unexpected. I couldn't tell if it was the whole town or just that restaurant, since it is set back from the road quite a bit, but we sauntered inside nonetheless. There was no one in the reception room, so I poked my head inside. Every table and every surface in the restaurant seemed to have two or three lit candles, which gave the place a calm, yet cave-like feel. There was no one else in the place, but I asked a girl standing at the end of a hall if they were open, and she rushed over to show us a table smack-dab in the center of the restaurant. We took our seats and ordered a couple Meta beers and then perused the menu by candle light. I ordered the yellow dal bhat with maharaja rice, which is saffron rice mixed with raisins, cashews and cheese, and K ordered an egg curry. Later, when M joined us, we also ordered a chicken curry, which reminded me slightly of Ethiopian kaiwat. Since there was no one else in the place, it felt as if we were enjoying a secret, special dinner, with three waitresses standing at the side of the room just waiting if we needed anything. However, about halfway through our meal, the lights came back on. Almost immediately, a group of 4 and another table of ten came in, and the place was hopping. The mood was altered instantly, with the candles now removed and lively conversation all around us, it felt like we were sitting in the center of a hip, new restaurant.

Out to Lunch

Today for lunch we decided to forgo the canteen and head into town. We went to Rainbow Korean restaurant, a place we usually frequent in the evenings since it is so near the guesthouse, and I had never been there in the afternoon. We decided to grab a table outside since they have 4 or 5 booths on a raised level, all covered with only a simple roofing material for shade. I ordered a stone-cooked binbimbap, which contains green and white vegetables atop white rice, and this one also had a small fried egg on top. It was quite good, along with a few appetizers of sweet boiled peanuts, cabbage, sprouts and kimchi. It was nice to take a break and go to a restaurant for a quiet lunch, but now, back to work.

Blog Comments

A note on comments:

Today I managed to get on to the Blog settings page through the Internet. I haven't seen any of the comments that a few people said they wrote, so I double checked the settings and it should be possible to leave a comment without moderation; all you have to do is type in a code shown next to the comment box (to prove it's not spam).
I can't promise I'll be able to respond to comments directly on the blog, but will receive them by email and appreciate anything people feel like adding or commenting on. I can always respond via blog post or email directly to the person.
Cheers, S

Naming Ceremony

While at the National Museum the other day, I ran into one of the guys
stationed here with UNICEF. I had met him at two planning meetings and
once at his office to directly discuss collaboration with our project,
so he was sure to know my face, but I hadn't seen him for about two
months. He was with his wife and two young boys playing daddy as he
explained to his sons that the extinct wild boar skull wasn't a
dinosaur; not exactly the most opportune time for a colleague step up
and say hello, not to mention that I was looking a bit disheveled in my
cargo pants, short-sleeve flannel and sporting a red Manchester United
backpack I'd bought in town (the only one that I could find on a
Sunday). However, there was no reason to avoid him, plus, I was in the
last room and the only way to exit was to walk back through the previous
rooms, so it was inevitable that we would end up face to face. With mild
trepidation, I lingered around the last room and, when he entered, gave
it a couple seconds and then, "Oh, hey, how are you?"
Now, I know the rule of meeting people you have networked with: if
enough time has passed, you should immediately give your name again to
save them the embarrassment of having to guess. However, I used his name
to call his attention, and he immediately broke the ice and said, "Oh,
hello. So, do you come here often?" I quickly replied that I was just
out exploring and it was actually my first time there. As I spoke, I saw
his face draw up slightly and sensed it might be too late to state my
name now; he had already settled on what he thought it was. I figured,
well, at least this is a good opportunity to hear someone's impression
of what your name might be; a sort of pseudo naming ceremony as if in a
parallel life. "Was it Tim?"