Stormy weather
It's the rainy season in Ethiopia. What does that mean exactly? Well, in Addis Ababa that means thunderstorms every day. In the last several days, the mornings have been dry, with sun peeking through clouds. In the afternoon, though, all hell breaks loose. Er, the heavens open up, rather. These storms are sometimes of biblical proportions. With people running for cover, and walking out of their way just to get to a point where they can cross the meters-wide flood rushing down the street.
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In the last several days, I have caught up on sleep as much as possible. The last night in Prague, and the night in London were sadly lacking in sleep hours, and that first night here in Addis Ababa was pretty crummy. What more could I expect, sleeping in a brothel? Yeah, you read that right, brothel. It was noisy and dirty -- by dirty, I mean hairs and half a condom wrapper in the bed. Thank goodness I insisted on buying sheets in India. I was still uncomfortable, but at least there was something clean between me and who knows how many clients' funk. Ew.
Thing is, the sex trade is totally acceptable here. During the day, families frequent the hotel restaurant. When it comes down to it, most of the budget lodgings in Ethiopia double as brothels, so we might not have a choice in smaller towns. In Addis Ababa, however, there is a choice, so rather than wake up to stickers on the walls asking us to be sure to use condoms, and dispose of them in the toilet, I was more than ready to hunt for an alternative the next morning.
We paid for two nights at that first "hotel" so we could leave our bags while we went to look for a more pleasant place to stay. Luckily the first place we inquired at was nice, and only 90 birr -- a huge step up from the 60 birr per night brothel. (US$1 = 8.5 birr)
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So, other than dodging rain, and hunting for clean beds, what have I done here?
Well, let's see. The food. I'm sure you wonder what there is to eat here. I always thought of Ethiopia the way I saw it on TV as a kid. Back then, there was a several years long drought. People were starving. Remember the pictures of people with distended bellies? So thirsty that the skin on their faces was pulled back and stretched tight? Well, Ethiopia, as I'm sure you have gathered, is no longer in a drought. There are still poor and hungry people, but there is plenty of food for those of us who are lucky enough to have the money to buy it.
I was warned by my guidebook that everyone hates Ethiopian food at first. And that those who grow to like it only do so by being ravenous fives meals in a row. Being a foodie, I was disheartened at the thought that I might not enjoy any food for the time I would be here. My cultivated palate, however, did not fail me. (Thanks Mom and Dad!) Though I haven't enjoyed all of the food, I have certainly enjoyed much of it. The sauce-based dishes are my favorite so far, especially those without meat. I just can't make myself like meat that I have to swallow whole after chewing it for several minutes. Ick.
My training in India helped me to eat properly. Tearing injera (flat sour bread) with my right hand, and using it to scoop up the food from the shared plate, while keeping my left (toilet) hand tucked firmly beneath the table, was a breeze. (And no, I don't really use my left hand for toilet purposes... yet.)
The worst thing I have tried here is the tej. It's a wine made from honey and other stuff. Very sweet, thick, orange in color, and thoroughly disgusting. The server had me "taste" it, like wine in a nice restaurant. What could I say? This is foul, take it back! Obviously not. Luckily it was only 2 birr for the bottle that Vlad and I shared, so I didn't feel too bad leaving it untouched.
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Sightseeingwise, I haven't done much. I spent yesterday afternoon in the Ethnological museum. The museum is organized by the life cycle, rather than by region as many other museums are. Childhood, Adulthood, and Death included examples and stories from the many different tribes and cultures to be found in Ethiopia. The only unfortunate thing is that I was tired, and not up to reading every single page-long description that was provided.
I am very much looking forward to visiting some of the tribes here, though. As interesting as it was to visit country people in India, Southeast Asia, and Morocco, I have to say that this will probably blow everything else away.
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Little notes:
-Women smile with their eyes and eyebrows here. First the eyebrows arch, then the eyes go very big, then a huge (often shy) grin follows. That's something that I would never be able to capture in a photo, even if I tried.
-We draw a lot of attention, as is to be expected in a third-world country where we look very different. Any person of European descent, especially one wearing a wristwatch, is rich beyond many people's dreams. Ever wonder what it feels like to be a minority? If you aren't in a minority group where you live, go travel -- see what it feels like to be stared at, to be a curiosity. It's not harmful or bad, it just takes a lot of patience, and some getting used to. Many children, and young adults sometimes, yell faranji! (foreigners!) as we walk by.
-The way of getting a person's attention here is by yelling You! You! at them.
-Every official building one enters, be it bank, post office, telephone office, or fancy hotel, requires a security search upon entry. Almost every one makes you leave your camera at the door. Because there are secret things in the Post Office that no one must find out about?!?
-Speaking of fancy hotels, we went to the Sheraton last night to get a cash advance on our debit cards (no international ATMs in this country). Now, this is a huge, fancy hotel, located inside a compound, with armed guards at the entrance. Our cab driver had to have his car searched on the way in. Every person entering the lobby has to go through an airport-style security search. And how were we, scuzzy travelers, treated upon entry? Everyone was very welcoming, polite, bowing and scraping, all that. Can you imagine the tratment that most people in this city would get if they tried to walk into the Sheraton? It was weird being in there, after being in the city for a couple of days. And it served as a very pointed reminder that we are very, very lucky to be "rich" Americans. We have opportunities that many... no, most people in the world can only dream about. No wonder we are constantly greeted with cupped hands.
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Today we Vlad and I made preparations for our onward travel. We met with a travel agent in the morning, who was kind enough to give us free advise. We went to the bus station to buy our tickets for the next two days (yes, two days!) of bus travel. Then, on our friend's recommendation, we went to a bank to change 300 birr into new 1 birr notes. These will be necessary for tips in the countryside. Photos of interesting tribal peoples are not free!
The world in Ethiopia is very different from any world we've visited thus far. Outside the capital, which, with its mud houses and corrugated tin roofs does not feel like it could be the largest city in the cuntry, it is highly unlikely that I will find internet access. Banks will be hard to come by. And clean sheets, probably just a painfully pleasant dream. It very well may be that I will not be able to update again until I get to Nairobi, Kenya... in two weeks. So, for my family, don't worry when you don't hear from me!
Leave a comment in my New Journal
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In the last several days, I have caught up on sleep as much as possible. The last night in Prague, and the night in London were sadly lacking in sleep hours, and that first night here in Addis Ababa was pretty crummy. What more could I expect, sleeping in a brothel? Yeah, you read that right, brothel. It was noisy and dirty -- by dirty, I mean hairs and half a condom wrapper in the bed. Thank goodness I insisted on buying sheets in India. I was still uncomfortable, but at least there was something clean between me and who knows how many clients' funk. Ew.
Thing is, the sex trade is totally acceptable here. During the day, families frequent the hotel restaurant. When it comes down to it, most of the budget lodgings in Ethiopia double as brothels, so we might not have a choice in smaller towns. In Addis Ababa, however, there is a choice, so rather than wake up to stickers on the walls asking us to be sure to use condoms, and dispose of them in the toilet, I was more than ready to hunt for an alternative the next morning.
We paid for two nights at that first "hotel" so we could leave our bags while we went to look for a more pleasant place to stay. Luckily the first place we inquired at was nice, and only 90 birr -- a huge step up from the 60 birr per night brothel. (US$1 = 8.5 birr)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, other than dodging rain, and hunting for clean beds, what have I done here?
Well, let's see. The food. I'm sure you wonder what there is to eat here. I always thought of Ethiopia the way I saw it on TV as a kid. Back then, there was a several years long drought. People were starving. Remember the pictures of people with distended bellies? So thirsty that the skin on their faces was pulled back and stretched tight? Well, Ethiopia, as I'm sure you have gathered, is no longer in a drought. There are still poor and hungry people, but there is plenty of food for those of us who are lucky enough to have the money to buy it.
I was warned by my guidebook that everyone hates Ethiopian food at first. And that those who grow to like it only do so by being ravenous fives meals in a row. Being a foodie, I was disheartened at the thought that I might not enjoy any food for the time I would be here. My cultivated palate, however, did not fail me. (Thanks Mom and Dad!) Though I haven't enjoyed all of the food, I have certainly enjoyed much of it. The sauce-based dishes are my favorite so far, especially those without meat. I just can't make myself like meat that I have to swallow whole after chewing it for several minutes. Ick.
My training in India helped me to eat properly. Tearing injera (flat sour bread) with my right hand, and using it to scoop up the food from the shared plate, while keeping my left (toilet) hand tucked firmly beneath the table, was a breeze. (And no, I don't really use my left hand for toilet purposes... yet.)
The worst thing I have tried here is the tej. It's a wine made from honey and other stuff. Very sweet, thick, orange in color, and thoroughly disgusting. The server had me "taste" it, like wine in a nice restaurant. What could I say? This is foul, take it back! Obviously not. Luckily it was only 2 birr for the bottle that Vlad and I shared, so I didn't feel too bad leaving it untouched.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sightseeingwise, I haven't done much. I spent yesterday afternoon in the Ethnological museum. The museum is organized by the life cycle, rather than by region as many other museums are. Childhood, Adulthood, and Death included examples and stories from the many different tribes and cultures to be found in Ethiopia. The only unfortunate thing is that I was tired, and not up to reading every single page-long description that was provided.
I am very much looking forward to visiting some of the tribes here, though. As interesting as it was to visit country people in India, Southeast Asia, and Morocco, I have to say that this will probably blow everything else away.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Little notes:
-Women smile with their eyes and eyebrows here. First the eyebrows arch, then the eyes go very big, then a huge (often shy) grin follows. That's something that I would never be able to capture in a photo, even if I tried.
-We draw a lot of attention, as is to be expected in a third-world country where we look very different. Any person of European descent, especially one wearing a wristwatch, is rich beyond many people's dreams. Ever wonder what it feels like to be a minority? If you aren't in a minority group where you live, go travel -- see what it feels like to be stared at, to be a curiosity. It's not harmful or bad, it just takes a lot of patience, and some getting used to. Many children, and young adults sometimes, yell faranji! (foreigners!) as we walk by.
-The way of getting a person's attention here is by yelling You! You! at them.
-Every official building one enters, be it bank, post office, telephone office, or fancy hotel, requires a security search upon entry. Almost every one makes you leave your camera at the door. Because there are secret things in the Post Office that no one must find out about?!?
-Speaking of fancy hotels, we went to the Sheraton last night to get a cash advance on our debit cards (no international ATMs in this country). Now, this is a huge, fancy hotel, located inside a compound, with armed guards at the entrance. Our cab driver had to have his car searched on the way in. Every person entering the lobby has to go through an airport-style security search. And how were we, scuzzy travelers, treated upon entry? Everyone was very welcoming, polite, bowing and scraping, all that. Can you imagine the tratment that most people in this city would get if they tried to walk into the Sheraton? It was weird being in there, after being in the city for a couple of days. And it served as a very pointed reminder that we are very, very lucky to be "rich" Americans. We have opportunities that many... no, most people in the world can only dream about. No wonder we are constantly greeted with cupped hands.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today we Vlad and I made preparations for our onward travel. We met with a travel agent in the morning, who was kind enough to give us free advise. We went to the bus station to buy our tickets for the next two days (yes, two days!) of bus travel. Then, on our friend's recommendation, we went to a bank to change 300 birr into new 1 birr notes. These will be necessary for tips in the countryside. Photos of interesting tribal peoples are not free!
The world in Ethiopia is very different from any world we've visited thus far. Outside the capital, which, with its mud houses and corrugated tin roofs does not feel like it could be the largest city in the cuntry, it is highly unlikely that I will find internet access. Banks will be hard to come by. And clean sheets, probably just a painfully pleasant dream. It very well may be that I will not be able to update again until I get to Nairobi, Kenya... in two weeks. So, for my family, don't worry when you don't hear from me!
Leave a comment in my New Journal