Odds and ends near trip’s end…

Well, this was a fairly short stint, just more than four weeks, and so I shouldn’t be surprised that it is nearly finished. This may or may not be my final Ethiopia entry, but it is a good time to pass along some miscellaneous things that didn’t qualify for their own topic.

Plus, I need to share some corrections and amplifications.

CORRECTION: This isn’t a correction of a blog entry, but of an email I sent earlier to family members. It might be interesting to others as well. The item was about different legends and traditions different cultures have for common experiences – such as a child losing a tooth. The story I told the family came from Tenaw, my boss. He said that the child takes the tooth out under the bright moon, hurls it at the moon and shouts at the moon to give the kid a bright new tooth. If the child doesn’t do that, Tenaw said, a rat will find the tooth and give the child an ugly rat’s tooth.

Well, you know how parents can get confused. Tenaw went home and told his kids that he had told me this story. I didn’t hear the exact conversation, but I’ve heard others myself that I’m sure resemble it, and it went something like this: “Oh DAD,” his son says in his most exasperated voice. “You got it all wrong. How could you do that? What are the ferenjis going to THINK about us?” (That is Tenaw and his son in the photo.)

So here is the corrected version, courtesy of Zelalem Tenaw: Actually, it is GOOD to get a rat’s tooth. It is big and healthy and strong, and can chew through anything. So, yes, you do go out and throw it under the bright light of the moon, but that is so the rat can find it and reward you by giving you a strong new rat’s tooth.

Hmmmm, I don’t know if that would go over well for American children, but the rat has more stature here. In fact as I mentioned in the family email, a rat figures in the Ugandan version of this ritual, as well. In Uganda, though, it’s a bit more like our tradition. The child takes the tooth and places it near a hole where the rat is likely to show up. The rat comes, takes it, and leaves a little money behind.

AMPLIFICATION: One of my first Ethiopia blog entries was about how much livestock you see in the roads. There was nothing inaccurate about it, but perhaps the tone was a bit off. It was soon after I arrived, jet lag, culture adjustment and altitude were all in play and, as Theresa pointed out, the voice of that entry had a bit of a “pensive” note. Fair enough.

So the amplification is this. Yes, the livestock are everywhere; yes, some of the animals are scrawny looking, and certainly nobody who is buying or selling them has very much money. On the other hand, plenty of these animals look in pretty good condition. And setting aside for the moment the legitimate issues of vegetarianism, you have to admit that when people buy a goat or a sheep that has just been delivered to the roadside market by a farmer out in the country, they certainly know where their meat is coming from, and they know it is fresh. It is a far distance from buying a plastic-wrapped package of meat at Safeway, for what it’s worth.

My conclusion in the pensive blog had to do with the common expression, “This Is Africa,” and had to do with thoughts of disparity. Well, this amplified version is Africa, as well – because so many more things here are direct, personal, and from the source. That may not always be good, but it is definitely a refreshing thing to be reminded of.

On to the odds and ends.

Speaking of rivers: One of the big tourist destinations in Uganda is at the north end of Lake Victoria, in the city of Jinja, where you can visit The Source of the Nile. We went there several times, and even though the “source” has been a bit obscured by a big hydropower dam downstream, it still is kind of neat to imagine that this is where it all starts.

What a coincidence! Here in Ethiopia, hundreds of miles to the north, you can ALSO find “The Source of the Nile.” This one is in the northwest part of the country, also coming out of a huge lake – Lake Tana.

So come on, guys, which is which? I mean, if we’re going to get goose bumps over standing by the source of the Nile, we would like to know that it is the right one!

Of course, it is really one of those silly notions, fueled, in great part, by explorers from England and elsewhere who wanted to be the one to discover the source of this, or the highest point of that. Naturally, the “source” of the Nile is up in the skies, whence drops all the raindrops that eventually find their way into its ultimate course through Egypt. Along the way, several major rivers and watershed contribute, and there’s the seeming conflict. Uganda can claim ownership of the “source” of what is known as the White Nile, which winds its way west and north toward Egypt. Ethiopia can claim ownership of the Blue Nile, which our guidebook states produces the largest volume of the final Nile River.

Incidentally, both countries have dammed their personal version of the Nile at least once and perhaps several places, and that has helped fuel a fairly contentious international dispute. You see, Egypt – and perhaps Sudan as well, but I’m not sure of that – has some treaties written in the colonial era that guarantee it certain water rights related to its River Nile, which of course was “discovered” first so took primary place in colonial minds. Egypt is not always amused when some upstream country starts restricting flow in one way or another, or otherwise tampering with “their” river.

Not surprisingly, in the post-colonial era those upstream countries are not all that interested in colonial treaties. Thus is born the Nile Basin Initiative, which brings together all of the “Nile Riparian Countries,” as they are known, to iron out their little differences. It is not always successful, but at least they are talking.

More “Seen here and there”:

In the departure lounge at Addis airport: “Prayer room for males,” and “Prayer room for females.” It would make a wonderful research project, I thought, to do a survey and see which room produced better results.

There does seem to be a lot more street-cleaning going on in Addis than in Kampala. Yes, I know, that is not saying much, but you do see lots of people sweeping up the garbage off the streets – mostly women, dressed in long outfits to cover themselves, with masks on and huge floppy straw hats and reflective vests. And generally speaking the results are good. Now if they could just figure out a way for vacuuming out the pollution from the air.

On the streets – women with large circular platter-shaped parcels on their heads, maybe two feet in diameter and 10 inches tall, all wrapped in some towel-like fabric. The women are delivering fresh batches of injera, the delicious soft bread/pancake stuff that serves as both the place you ladle your various traditional Ethiopian sauce concoctions onto, and also the “utensil” you use to pick up and eat that delicious stuff. (Right hand only, please, and don’t be dismayed if some of it ends up in your beard as you are getting the hang of it.)

Who knew there were so many saints? I guess there really are a lot of them. Anyway, the Ethiopian Orthodox Church – which has its own official designation in World Church Hierarchy, along with roots back to the 4th century – celebrates an awful lot of saints’ days. And you can tell early in the morning, whether from the chanting coming from one or another of the scores and scores of churches in the city, or from the crowds of people, many of them women, clustering around the church. On certain days, they are carrying bunches of some sort of green grass all tied together. Always, they are wearing lovely white cotton shawls, so thin you can almost see through them, with narrow borders of brightly colored material – orange, blue, yellow.

Big Issues in Ethiopia

What are the things that really matter to people who live in Addis? Well, this is a small peek. Below are extracts (a few of them slightly edited to adjust for English not being a first language for anyone here) from ideas my students submitted for in-depth stories – this will be their final project for their reporting class. They perhaps provide a bit of a window on today’s Ethiopia – even without the full details. And the photo? It shows a few of my students hard at work as part of their newspaper design class, trying to master the intricacies of Adobe’s InDesign software.
* * *

The African Union head office is found here, and many international organizations. But Addis Ababa is suffering out of a garbage and sanitation problem.

The problem in condominium homes. A recent phenomenon in Addis city, where the government made things convenient to gather people in living together inside huge buildings, but, because it is a new style of living, people are facing problems.

The increasing number of missing children.

Newspaper vendors who do not sell newspapers at their actual price but charge 50 cents for “shallow reading.” [This is 50 Ethiopian cents, which is less than a nickel.]

The Oromo language is one of the most widely spoken languages in Ethiopia as it is the mother tongue of the largest ethnic group in the country. It has so far been given only the status of a regional working language. At the university it is studied as a minor subject [beneath Amharic, which along with English is the official language of Ethiopia]. Oromo students are pushing the Ministry of Education to recognize their language as a multidisciplinary medium.

Electric power cuts make citizens lose their dreams. Some residents of Addis Ababa express their disappointment over the recent scheduled and unscheduled power cuts for it’s forcing them out of their business. Backed by the government’s Small and Micro Business Development Institute, women engaged in secretary and photocopying businesses are unable to cover their house rent let alone gain benefit out of it.

“Lords of Poverty” are still taking food out of the poor’s mouth. An international NGO operating on various social issues in Ethiopia appears to be a giant monster. The case in point is the project assessment of the organization, which is found to be very annoying and inhuman.

Kaht fun in dormitories has special features. [Kaht, also called chat, is a narcotic plant, a stimulant that is chewed throughout East Africa, and who knows where else.] Frequently, students are addicted with it, they stick to it intentionally or unintentionally. Although they perfectly recognize the side effects, they make fun out of it.

In the last two years, prices of goods, particularly food items like cereals, have been persistently high. According to the Central Statistics Authority, general food inflation has reached 29.6 percent. A recent study indicated that Ethiopia is one of the most affected countries with the strongest acceleration in food price inflation. Everyone in Addis is surprised by the uninvited guest – “Inflation.”

Old age streetism and beggary has been increasing alarmingly in different towns and cities, particularly the situation is getting severe and worse in Addis Ababa. The real situation in the streets of Addis will be uncovered.

It is about a girl who is working for graduate students in Addis Ababa University. She is paid 180 birr per month [about $16] for cooking and cleaning. She represents many teenagers who preferred prostitution and ended up giving birth to children while they stopped learning. Most of them hardened their lives by becoming parents and victims of many problems including HIV/AID. Therefore she can be a good example for millions like her.

In every speech delivery/propaganda, the government is saying Ethiopia is progressing and growing from every angle. One of its pros of prosperity, according to government media, is allocating its people with pure water. But the reality is different. I am curious to see why people are suffering water scarcity and wander here and there in search of water. Why is the plight of pure water escalating?

“Quorale” are people who travel from home to home to collect old used materials and goods that are rubbish. When they move across the village they say “quorale,” telling the people that they are looking for goods that are out of service. I’m always wondering when I see “quorale” strolling here and there. What is the motive? What is the purpose? Who controls/supervises the routine? Do these people pay tax? What is the overall advantage of collecting trashes/rubbish materials? Do they participate in the sanitation process, protecting or reducing pollution?

Transport shortage and its impact on working hours in Addis Ababa.

No, it is definitely not Starbucks

You probably have heard of the Ethiopian coffee ceremony; it’s one of the best-known aspects of the culture, and for good reason. I experienced my first one when Tenaw, the assistant dean at the graduate school, invited me and my fellow American professor Peter out to his house for a mid-day meal one Sunday.

He lives with his charming family – wife Emebet, an elementary school teacher; and children Yordanos, Zelalem and Tsion – in a somewhat rural setting in the foothills. You can see Addis proper, but you are well removed from its pollution and congestion, and the fields are dotted with grazing cattle, goats and donkeys. (And also dotted with new houses rising that will inevitably change the rural nature in a few years.) Tenaw has a commute of more than an hour each way, but it is obviously worth it to him, and you can see why when you walk around his little neighborhood, where he knows everyone, the air is fresh, and his kids can walk through the fields to get to school.

The meal was what Theresa and I came to expect when we were invited to people’s homes in Uganda: gracious hospitality, wide-eyed children (especially in the neighborhood; Tenaw’s kids are more used to ferenji -- foreigners) – and delicious food served in WAY too generous quantities. After having three helpings of six different dishes thrust upon us – and I am not exaggerating here – we finally were able to take a break, take a walk … and prepare for the coffee ceremony.

It took place out in the lovely little garden in front of the house. Emebet had changed into a traditional white cotton dress and shawl, and laid out the setting: broad grass leaves spread on the dirt; a tiny table on top of them, with a tiny tray and six espresso-size coffee cups. On the side, a porcelain milk pitcher and sugar bowl, a black narrow-necked ceramic pitcher, and a small charcoal stove. In front, a small incense stick.

As we relaxed and appreciated the scene from the porch, she first placed a handful of coffee beans in a rounded metal plate atop the small charcoal stove, and stirred them as they roasted. A fragrant smoke rose, and when she judged the beans done, Emebet brought the plate over to let us see and smell close up. Mmmmm. Delectable.

Then she went back to her station, putting the beans in a pestle and crushing them with a long heavy mortar. After brewing in the ceramic pitcher over the charcoal, she served us in the small cups – black, with sugar. And it was unlike any coffee I’ve tasted, with a fresh and fruity flavor that just makes you savor it in your mouth.

Over the course of the next hour or so, tradition dictates that you get three different servings of coffee. Sometimes it was in the small cups, sometimes in larger cups with warmed milk. (“Natural milk,” Tenaw said proudly. We had talked earlier about how so much of the milk sold in supermarkets here is not milk at all – “Ethiopian milk is just water!” he complained.) Macchiato, they call it – one more relic of the Italian past and present connection here.

I asked Tenaw how often they have a coffee ceremony, assuming this is something you do mostly for guests. “Oh, we do this almost every day,” he said. Sometimes people do it in the morning and again in the evening, but he and his wife both work, the kids have to go to school, and there is not time in the morning.

But almost every evening, he said, they gather as a family and have their coffee ceremony. The kids don’t have any coffee – usually they start in high school, he said – but it is a time for the family to be together, to make plans, to talk. Not really a “ceremony,” in any ceremonial sense. But what a lovely daily tradition. It was well worth the fact that I couldn’t fall asleep until after midnight!

Oh, the things you will see!

The trips back and forth to work with the university driver are, as were my commute trips in Kampala, a wonderful way to see this city close up and without seeming to stare. So, completely at random, here are a few more things:

Look! It is an interchange!

This is a big deal in Addis, as it would be in Kampala. Not just a paved road, which would be amazing on its own, but here, courtesy of the Chinese, who are big spenders on infrastructure here, there is a brand-new interchange in the heart of Addis. It connects two major roads with the whole deal -- cloverleaf exits and entrances, on overpass, and even overhead signs. (“People have been confused,” a local friend said. “Ethiopians are not used to signage.” No kidding! Maybe if they had a few signs they would not be confused.) In any case, this interchange is a thing of beauty. The roads are smooth (at least until the next rainy season, some say cynically), multi-laned and wide, and traffic zips along.

But wait – what is that, there in the median on the flyover … and down there on the lane going under us … and over there right in the middle of the exit ramp. Why, it is a steady stream of pedestrian traffic!

Yes indeed. You may be able to bring in all your machinery, and your foreign experts with their money, and build something that looks like a modern highway, but don’t count on the locals abandoning the most common form of travel: walking. People swarm over the new interchange, wandering happily through its cloverleafs, jumping nimbly over its little barrier fences, moving in and out of the traffic as if this were just one more footpath, just a smoother one than usual. In fact, on some of the underpass lanes there are even specially marked areas on the side that look to be pedestrian walkways – not that anybody sticks to them; they just walk in the main lane. It is one more proof that the more things change, the more they remain the same. I mean, one of the local newspapers was horrified this was happening, ran a couple of photos and some scathing words about the behavior of the pedestrians, but what did they really expect??? Having lived in Uganda, and knowing what we do about people’s lives, and how they function, this was no surprise to me at all.

Um, will this taxi make it home?

Blue and white is evidently the color of everyday public transportation here. It’s the color of the little 12-passenger minibuses, known as matatus in Kampala and here, nicknamed wuyiyits, which means “discussion,” after the way their seats are arranged, jamming the passengers right up against each other. (I rode on two of them the other day, covering quite a bit of distance in a cross-town ride, for a total fare of approximately 22 cents.)

And it is also the color of the most common taxis in Addis. They are funny little things – short, squat, square vehicles. They may have parts dangling, and occasionally you will see someone pushing one to give it a jump start. And no wonder! These taxis – or at least the large majority of them – are Russian-built Ladas, relics of the 1970s and ‘80s when Ethiopia was governed by the Derg, a socialist regime, and was caught up in Cold War politics, aligning with the Soviet Union more than the U.S. liked. (Which led to some political moves by America that have left at least some Ethiopians saying Jimmy Carter’s name only with disgust, but that is another story.)

Old, clunky or not, the taxis are everywhere, and in my only attempt so far, one of them did indeed get me home safely, so more power to them!

On a more somber note ...

“Ethiopia does not take good care of the elderly,” Tenaw said one day on our drive home. He is the assistant dean of the journalism graduate school here, rides home with me sometimes, and is a helpful interpreter of what we see. That day, we were stuck in traffic, and over there lying on the sidewalk was what looked almost like a bundle of rags, except it had a wizened grey head sticking out of it. Indeed, you do see a painfully large number of elderly people among the fairly numerous beggars and street people of Addis. They may be walking with a wood stick, or simply hobbling along, wrapped in blankets, or sitting or lying prone on the sidewalk. They are a sign, Tenaw said, that the worsening economy of Ethiopia is overcoming the ability of families to care for their own as they once were able to do.

This is Africa

Another difference in Addis compared to Kampala is how many livestock animals you see in the streets of this large, and in some ways cosmopolitan, city. Goats everywhere: people herding small herds or individual animals along the road, or very large numbers of them at the feed troughs in the goat market we pass coming home from work every day. Mules or donkeys, two or three at a time, some of them straining under piled-up bales of hay or other heavy loads. A boy leading a monkey on a chain. (Okay, that’s not livestock, but still…) Cows with tall narrow humps behind their shoulders; sometimes in groups as large as 20, more often one or two. A more ordinary cow, standing alone by a kiosk as if picking up some bananas. Once I came upon a cow, untended and quite confused, in the middle of an intersection. Another time two men were frantically chasing after two cattle that had gotten away and were running in and out through the congested rush-hour traffic.

When you first see them, you feel amazement and perhaps amusement at the scene. Then you may feel sorry for the poor animals, which always look underfed, and often terrified. Then, perhaps, you may feel sorry for the people who must subsist on these poor scrawny beasts, “range fed” along the sides of dirty streets, breathing the diesel exhaust, eating the road-side chemicals. Then after all that, you may feel sorry for, or angry about, or discouraged by, the state of our world, and our disparities.

It is one piece of what is contained in the popular phrase: “This is Africa.” And it is a big piece of why not many people, relatively speaking, want to travel here.

Philip Briggs, who wrote the excellent Bradt guidebook to Ethiopia (and also the Uganda guidebook that was our great helper while we lived there), addresses a bit of this in a chapter called “Bridging the Cultural Gap.” He brings strong expertise to the job: raised in South Africa, he has traveled roughly half of each year in East Africa since 1986.

“To someone raised in the West,” Briggs writes, “first exposure to the developing world is always something of a shock. However concerned you may be about the inequality of global wealth distribution, and however much you may have read and thought about the issues, confronting the reality is something entirely different from dealing with it in the abstract. And most of us, to some extent, respond with a feeling of guilt.”

He goes on: “I have long held doubts about my work. I have been torn between the feeling that it is useful and constructive to be writing books that might encourage tourism to little-visited countries, the fear that tourism might in some way damage the country, and an anger at the way that some tourists, most especially budget travelers, ride roughshod over Africa.” In the end – and acknowledging honestly that he is, after all, a guidebook writer! – he concludes that sensitive travel, learning about new cultures and simultaneously spending money in places that desperately need it, is “a far more appropriate response than to travel only in developed countries and pretend the inequality doesn’t exist.”

Theresa and I talked about it many times in Uganda. With all the trials and tribulations, the frustrations and the sadness for the hard life all around us, we felt so enriched. We wished more Americans could travel here. It can be hard – it often IS hard -- but more than that, it is enlightening, and rewarding. This, too, is Africa.

Yes, a river DOES run through it

Considering how high up Addis is, and in such a mountainous region, I haven’t had that much sensation of being in the mountains so far. Maybe that’s because the rainy season is starting, and the clouds are often hanging low. Maybe it’s because we’re already at such an elevation that the nearby mountains don’t seem so huge. But you do get glimpses of it. From my living room balcony in the evening, I see the sun setting behind mountains that are, according to my trusty map, nearly 11,000 feet tall. And the city of Addis itself definitely has a slope to it: elevations within the city apper to range from roughly 6,700 feet to 7,800 feet (again based on a quick review of trusty map).

All of which explains why a river does indeed run through Addis. It races on a steep serpentine course through the city, in fact, cutting a sharp urban gorge and requiring many many bridges. What a nice infusion of nature into a sprawling metropolis! And indeed, that’s just how it looks, if you look at it from a distance, and just can see the lush greens alongside the rushing water.

But of course a closer look tells another story. Environmental controls have not exactly caught on here yet. The air seems more polluted than Kampala, doubtless due to the trapping effect of the surrounding mountains. And you don’t want to look too closely at the river, filled with suds in one spot, with garbage in another, and certainly with worse.

It’s too bad, said an Ethiopian friend. Where the river starts, not far away up in the Entoto Mountains (the original home of the capital city), this is a lovely, clear mountain stream. I’m hoping to go visit and see.

Stay tuned for more, on donkeys and cloverleafs and who knows what in this crazy city.

Bill is in Ethiopia!

No, we are not Under the Uganda Sun any more; in fact sadly it is not “we” at all this time, because I am alone here in Ethiopia, on a one-month teaching assignment at Addis Ababa University that did not pay nearly enough for us to cover Theresa’s airfare. That’s not a good thing from my point of view, since I feel like I am missing a very important part of myself without my partner-in-adventure along. But it is just a month, and we shall survive.

So. Ethiopia – first impressions after just a couple days in the country (but some good exploring, including a lonnnng walk, may be 3 ½ hours and 5 miles or so, through the heart of Addis Ababa … which means up some pretty steep hills, in this mountain town! (I was glad to note that despite the roughly 7,300-foot elevation here, the walk, including the big uphill part, didn’t affect me more than such a walk would anywhere else.)

Since this has previously been mostly a Uganda blog, maybe it makes sense to frame what I’ve seen so far in comparison to the country where we have now spent nearly a year in two trips over the past couple years. Below is just a sampler of Ethiopia compared to Uganda, first impressions.

SIMILARITIES

• VERY similar street scenes: people walking, walking, walking; kiosks selling everything from melons to flip-flops; kids in school uniforms; roadside nurseries with potted trees, and roadside furniture makers with piles of wooden chairs; guys herding goats down the street; lots surrounded by corrugated metal fences; wood-pole scaffolding, and on and on.


• Jarring juxtapositions of lovely smells from nature (flowers; and here, especially, eucalyptus trees) competing with nasty smells from humanity (diesel exhaust; drainage ditches emanating odors of human waste; meat-processing places).


• Jarring juxtapositions of class: ramshackle tin-walled shacks immediately adjacent to razor-wire-topped walled compounds of mansions with satellite dishes and gilded gates.


• At least at first experience, similar resignation to a government that, in both countries, has moved away from its early (and liberating) democratic promise to an increasing inclination to hang onto power by whatever means. (And this is demonstrably more serious in Ethiopia than in Uganda.)


• Hand labor. Truthfully, I have seen more heavy machinery at work here than in Uganda. But so much is still done by hand – from ditch-digging to all manner of construction. At one site I saw two women mixing cement with shovels then loading it onto a wood-frame stretcher-like conveyance to carry it to the job site. Just down the road came two more women carrying one of those stretcher things with two large boulders on it.
• Apartment furniture. Clearly they shopped at the same warehouse that the owners of Salama Springs used – the very same cherry-colored cabinets, hard-cushioned bed, etc. Made me feel at home when I walked in. But at Salama Springs the water worked (it is sporadic here, as is the electricity – currently off – and no generator). See photo of me to get an idea of the apartment complex - my room is on the 4th floor, two balconies.

DIFFERENCES

• Almost no bicycles – I’ve only seen one so far, and they were everywhere in Uganda, often mainly used as wheelbarrows to transport stuff.


• Christian slogans. Uganda is full of them – “God is the Hero” on the back of a matatu minivan; “God is Able Restaurant and Takeaway, Also Fruit Salads.” Haven’t seen one yet – probably because Christianity, though very well entrenched here, is of the orthodox, traditional nature, not evangelical.


• Shoe-cleaner guys. There are a LOT of them here – cleaning shoes, polishing them, all along the sidewalks in different neighborhoods. And they seem to get good business, especially after a rain turns part of the sidewalks to mud.


• Potholes: There are a lot fewer of them in Ethiopia, at least in the roads – I have actually seen more in sidewalks. (“Well,” I can hear Theresa muttering, “at least they HAVE sidewalks there.” True. They are far from universal – I have spent plenty of time walking in the streets or in muddy, rocky shoulder areas – but there are more of them in Addis than Kampala.)


• Monkeys! No sightings so far and I don’t really expect any in Addis. I miss the monkey tribe from Salama Springs!


• Mosquitoes! No sightings of them, either, and that’s a treat. We are too high for them, which means no slathering with Deet every evening, and no problem with leaving windows and balcony doors open.


• Beggars. Sadly, many many more here than in Kampala, where they are actually pretty rare. Swarms of urchins, and older kids/young adults who sidle up and just walk alongside you for blocks, first maybe chatting, then getting to the point.