Update
Okay okay I am very behind on maintaining my blog. Here is some stuff I wrote a while ago. Since these entries, alot has happened and chnaged, so I have to get my butt in gear and start writing….til then,
The smells of Addis:
Food, grilled meat, diesel, pollution, urine, fecal matter, dead animal carcass, sewage and of course coffee (not necessarily on that order)
I need to start keeping track of how many people think I am Italian. The second, French. I haven’t pulled out the farsi to really screw with them. Mostly I pretend I am deaf.
The Harambee Hotel:
I am staying at a government hotel called the Harambee. Now that I have been here for a few weeks now, I am getting to know the staff. They’re even trying to teach me Amharic. Everyday, I practice my how are you, I am fine with two of the older women who work here.
The first is the cleaning woman. I’d put her age at anywhere upward of 65. She is a little shorter than me and waddles when she walks, she has one bum leg. She has catract in one eye and a little pug nose. I am very fond of her. Everyday I leave my room to go to breakfast, she is there, Deuhna-nish (Feminine for how are you)? Deuhna (I am good) I say. Then I say it back, Deuhna nish? She repeats it over a few times like I am missing a vowel. So I repeat it again and again till this game is done. I say thank you, amaseganuello, bow my head, and say good-bye, ciao.
The other woman, whose job is to sit in the lobby all day and search women’s purses when they come, does the same when I enter the lobby. Everyday we progress with building our relationship;today, she and I exchanged names. She has me moved onto saying eshi, okay. There is something about her that intrigues me, when I see her she claps her hands together and then separates them. Kinda of like when grandparent is joyful in seeing there grandchild. She has a wonderful smile that goes along with it. I can’t feel like I am suppose to respond in a specific way and I am not sure what that is. So I smile and say hello, Suelaam. My guess is the same age range as the cleaning woman. She has a beauty tattoo following her jaw line (this is very common with the women who come from the country side) I have to get a picture before I go.
The hotel restaurant. Remember this is a government hotel, so the food is less than desired. The complimentary breakfast is a choice of eggs or porridge, juice, toast and coffee. Everyday, I have the same server. Everyday, we go through the same ritual. Hello how are you, are you fine, yes thank you. Then the pause, which indicates I need to order. Fried eggs, sides, well-done, orange juice (the papaya juice smells and tastes like ass) and strong coffee. Toast with a sweet butter and jam which is out of this world) comes with breakfast too. He then asks me for my room number.
This is our morning ritual, as opposed to him saying, hi the usual? Depending on the day, he knows what I want and my room number. He is absolutely endearing, cause he genuinely tries to be a good & thoughtful. He has taken the parental role in making sure I eat. He is always concerned that I finish everything. Some times when I see him in the lift, he asks if I have had lunch. It’s important to eat. ( I will admit-some days I do get annoyed and don’t want to play let teach the foreigner)
Did I mention that there food is edible and their coffee sucks. Some days they get it right. I have found that I need to specify strong coffee, otherwise, I get brown water. Now I get extra coffee too.
Here is a real Mel moment: One morning I was having breakfast in the restaurant where a fellow guest noticed my ear piercings. She said something to her mother, and they both looked at me. I am rarely offended about people’s curiosity. I give consideration if culturally the piercings and such are a bit abnormal. I smile and think to myself, your people put plates in their lip and I am a freak?
The lift. So there are two elevators that are large enough to hold 4 people, maybe five if there are two of me. The elevator doors swing open and there is a small window on the door. You can watch every floor go by. They have their own mind. It takes for ever for them to arrive. Let me put this into context, I am on the 6th floor. No matter if I am going up or down or whatever floor # I press, the left elevator has to go all the way to the ground floor first. Then I have to press the floor # again, maybe hold down the button to get it to go. The right side does the same except it has to go to the top floor before it will go to where I want it to go. I am highly amused by this and have taken fancy to testing the elevators, in hopes that they may work normally one day. I know they won’t, its just fun in the mean time.
I am thinking this hotel was built in the late 60’s maybe early 70’s. The carpets in the halls and elevators are worn out. The wallpaper in my room is a golden color, and to peeling. The bathroom is moldy and I think I have mentioned my roach friends as well.
The wall paper in my friend’s room was a gaudy gold print that was stapled to padding that was underneath it. I wonder if the person who designed the rooms was chewing on some serious chat.
I do have a nice view overlooking some beautiful trees that is the playground for large raven like birds in the evenings. I haven’t figured out yet what they are. Apparently, this is a country known for its bird watching. Its quite nice to watch them peacefully perched on the tall trees and then out of no where-fly in circles like mad, then perch again. They do this every night as the night sky turns into dusk. It’s a little creepy, like the movie Birds.
Behind the hotel there is Dream park, an outdoor restaurant and café. On the weekends, they host wedding receptions of large events. This past weekend was a pre millenuim concert with some big name acts. I luckily could hear everything, so no need for me to have gone sown to the show itself. The rattling of my windows was annoying when they played club music at the end.
Just beyond dream park is a mosque. I hear the call to prayer frequently, 5 am, I don’t really care for it much.
I have 2 TV channels, CNN and some Arabic channel that airs American or European movies. Its cool, the Arabic commercials crack me up. The most recent was a Maxwell House commercial, the Arabic jingle was sung to Madness’ our house- Didn’t we have the American version of that? Then there is a 7up commercial-the music is the Smiths’ Charming Man. WTF?
I think I missed the great Addis Ababa DJ showdown. I thought about entering, but I don’t think New Order or Bauhaus would go over well here. Mental note: when I get back, start mixing Bob Marley with New Order.
Oh goodness, do Ethiopians love that sugar in their drinks. If you are ever here, and you order coffee or tea, stir it before you add sugar. Most often they already add a heaping spoonful of it. My friend orders a latte, which is a mug of hot milk, a separated shot of espresso and then adds 4 heaping mounds of sugar.
Today I learned how to say 1 bread, And (1) oh I already forgot, dabo for bread(maybe). I found this bakery that has the most amazing baguettes. Maybe because I haven’t had real bread since I found out about my pesky wheat allergy. Since the bread here is not processed like in the US, I can eat it. I do think I do have a mild reaction to it, not enough for me to care. Almost every day, I have a baguette with poppy seeds. Yummy.
The sweet woman I buy my fruit from- made sure I knew how to say three (sost) –b/c I buy 3 bananas. I can’t remember how to say banana. Learing the basics of another language is hard on my awful memory. I wish everyone was name joe, learning names would be so much easier.
All in all said, I am getting acquainted with the hood. Don’t know how much longer I will be in this immediate area. For now its good. I decided not to look for a place to live because what I am finding is expensive and far away from the field work I am doing. Where I am now is central to these locations. Plus I have cable, two channels, CNN and some Arabic station that airs old American movies. Mostly the films aren’t all that bad.
Ethiopian New Year is in September. It’s the millenuem and the city is preparing for a grand time (maybe we should warn thme about their computers being all whacky). There is mad development happening all over the place. And the plan for the slum hoods is that the government is planning to demolish these areas to build condos and business buildings (sound familiar). They just don’t care where the poor of the poor goes. Huh, I wonder if they have something like PG County?
When I say the poor of the poor-shanti homes. Where a person lives out of a room smaller than my hotel room. Enough for a bed and a few personal items. There is no running water, maybe electricity. The smells are a little more pungent.
Yesterday I went out to the country side to got o the forest. I went with a large group of children who have been orphaned because of AIDS. These were mostly elementary age up to high school. All the kids are part of a local program that specifically provides support to them. If you ever want to spend $20/month supporting one of these kids, it’s a good organization to do it for. I’ll post the details soon as I locate it. Yes, I spent my day hiking and hanging out with children. These were great well behaved kids, I was not that bothered. When I would take my camera out for photos opps, they were all over it. I got exhausted shooting picture after picture after picture. They loved to have their picture taken and then being able to view it immediately. I didn’t get many pictures of the country side.
Ethiopia is not short of children, in the city and in the rural areas. The landscape of the countryside was amazing (I’ll get to that later). Not far out of the city, the main means of transport are horse buggies. Not so much like the Amish buggies. These are small buggies that look like they may fall apart. They held together well. They are small, seat about three-four people and the driver. Most of the horses had a flower on top of their mane, between the ears.
As we drove further away from the city to the rural area to the country side the difference in lifestyle was evident. As I have been meeting with many people who are invested in HIV prevention, the topic of country vs. urban mentality always pops up. Although I didn’t speak to anyone from the countryside, it was evident that there was a significant difference. There was the typical farmer’s life. I’d see women carrying large heavy objects on their back, ie a enormous bushel of twigs. Women older than me and smaller than me wacking away chopping wood down. As we drove back from the forest, children, as small as three, chasing our bus. The urban kids throwng empty water bottles out the window for them. They were amused by the kids chasing them and begging for something. It was clearly a fun game for the kids on the bus, it was borderline cruel to me. It reminded me of those movies where the privelaged made fun of the poor or geeky kid. The typical John Hughes movies right. At the same time this was ironic, because these are the kids who are orphans and some HIV positive themselves. What struck me was hope and desperation that they may be lucky to have gotten a bottle. When one did they would grip it and run away with their price. The children who didn’t chase the buses, they cam running to the edge of the road waving, excited that they get to see a bus. The adults looked at us, like they have never seen a bus full of children before driving through their village.
Yes, there were lots of mud huts enclosed by fences made of tree branches and braches of leaves woven into the fence to provide privacy. Lots cows, horses, goats, & oxes- plowing the fields. In the highlands there is a lot of rain, infact we are going into the raining season. The farmers were getting ready.
Then every once in a while, there was a single male rider getting around on his horse. One horse in particular was decorated with red tastles all around and a flower on his head. No saddles, but the blanket thrown on the back of the horse is a colorful hand sewn blanket with the lion of Judah on it.
Dead things, lots of cow and goat skulls, in tact, laying on the side streets of the neighborhoods. Very tempting to to collect them and bring them back. Very tempting. I would like to keep a low profile when I go through customs.
I am going into my 4th week here and am settling in. getting grounded and getting my barrings. The homesickness is also settling in as well. Its very different being someplace far away for a while and your not a tourist. The purpose & focus as to why I am here is very different. My mindset is not as one of a tourist. I am more concerned about getting through daily living-getting around, doing my job, finding food I can eat, remembering not to drink the water. It also a little harder because I am here on my own now. I do have some good people that I am working with and are watching out for me. I am not working in an office with people, my social network is very limited (about 3 people). I haven’t met many ex pats, to find out what to do or where to go. It really does feel like I am starting from scratch and learning as I go along. I know by the end of my trip, I will have it all figured out. I am curious if I will be settled in enough by the end that I won’t want to come home. There is a learning curve and its hard. 4 years ago • 0 notes