ApeOathia
Ethiopia is a stunning country, visually, and touring it is a feast of beautiful sights, just waiting for a good photographer to take excellent coffee table book pictures. Finding the peace and quiet to take those pictures is a little more difficult.
While some of the nicest, most educated and friendly people we've met so far have been Ethiopian, the vast majority of the country's inhabitants are rude, abrasive and extremely irritating.
The moment we entered the country we were greeted by shouts of "You, You!" and the last thing we heard as we left the country were the same squeals of "You, You!". Written down, it doesn't come across as irritating but when it is uttered by almost every person you pass on the road, every day, it becomes exceedingly wearing.
It isn't even spoken in a friendly or welcoming tone but is barked at you, as though you are being hounded by pack of yapping, roadside curs.
Crowded House
The squeals of "You, You!" or "You, You! Feranji!" are - naturally - followed by demands to "Give me ..." which, I must commend them for their persistence, don't cease when you say no. In fact, they continue for the duration of your stop and only let up when you are out of earshot.
Despite the bad jokes and horrifying images of the famine two decades ago, Ethiopia is not a permanently drought-stricken country. It is a well-cultivated bread basket with almost all the available land being farmed. It has a population somewhere in the region of 60 million and there isn't much space left over.
As soon as you stop anywhere - alongside a "deserted" country road, in the middle of a town - there appears from nowhere a crowd to watch you. We got to the stage where we picked an empty stretch of road, stopped, leapt out and immediately had a pee. That way we could be assured of at least enough time to complete our ablutions in private.
Primarily children but often joined by adults, the groups of grubby watchers have no idea of personal space or privacy, believing it is their right to hang on the vehicle and smear their greasy, snotty hands over mirrors windowsills and any window through which they can see Tigger.
They don't allow you more space than you can stand in so making tea on the tailgate became something of a trial, as they all crowded around to watch every step of the process.
Rude Rules
Should you be busy or not paying them sufficient attention when they want it, the "You, You!" yap progresses to a "HEY!" bark before they start jabbing you. Clearly they are of the belief that their demands are more important than whatever it is you were trying to do.
We did find that a cyclist's water bottle is an effective non-violent deterrent - when they really won't listen, a squirt of water in the face tends to change their perspective and give you a little breathing room.
It is possible to make all sorts of excuses and apologies for the average Ethiopains behaviour but ultimately they're just discriminatory and rude. It became incredibly difficult for us to enjoy the country and we ended up cutting short our visit because of this.
But that doesn't say it all. Some of the most educated and thought-provoking people we've met on our trip were Ethiopian - both inside and outside that country's borders.
They weren't afraid to point out their own country's failings and politicians' faults, thought deeply about the problems facing their land and really fascinating to talk to. They were gracious and hospitable and if they can make their voice heard, Ethiopia will become a great place.
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FRUSTRATED FERANJIS
Gonder, 5 April 2002
Finding someone who wanted our business in Ethiopia was somewhat of an effort - they were happy to take our money but then wanted to take their time and do it in their frightening way.
The longer we stayed in Addis Ababa, the less we seemed to achieve - the Sudanese embassy took a day longer than it should have, the details were incorrect and they weren't terribly interested in correcting it when we went back to them.
We managed, eventually, to leave Addis 4 days later than we had hoped and were successful in getting, during our stay, our Sudanese visas, the rear leaf springs "recharged" (ie: bent back to something approaching their normal shape rather than the inverted bow position they were beginning to assume) and little else.
We failed to obtain and fit, satisfactorily, new tyres and to get the alignment done - while it is possible, I didn't have the patience to listen to the tyre establishment's junior apprentice's second assistant telling me what he had decided I was going to do. The fact that his English was minimal didn't stop him from holding forth and waving aside any point raised as extraneous to his plans.
Business plans in Ethiopia do not include - apparently - customer care or the concept that the "customer is king"; instead, the customer is the last and least consideration after they have worked out when their teabreaks will occur, how much work they feel like doing that day, what sort of work they are in the mood for and if they have the parts available.
Dusty Diarrhoea
After watching the mechanics, a term I use loosely in this context, at the Mazda dealership working on the leaf springs on Friday - watching as the truck rocked exceedingly dangerously while they tried to manhandle things back into place - Lisa and I spent the weekend in bed, emerging only to find medication, toilets and food as she nursed a serious bout of diarrhoea (isn't diarrhoea always serious?!?!) and I blew what's left of my brains into several toilet rolls as a result of a rather virulent head cold.
By Monday we were both feeling infinitesimally better and ventured out to the Saudi Arabian embassy - heading first across the town to where everybody said it was only to find it was the ambassador's residence.
The embassy was on the other side of town but when we did find it we met with the same blankness as one gets from a brick wall - "Is not possible" was the replay to virtually all our questions. The consul maintained that transit visas were "not possible" to obtain for Saudi. Clearly, Saudi diplomats are taught that "Is not possible is the standard response to any request they don't know how to deal with!
Gorgeous
From there we headed to the tyre establishment but gave up after five minutes of arguing with them about what we wanted done and decided instead to head out of town and try and save our sanity.
It feels really good to get back on the road after a week or more in a big city. Every time we enter a city, it usually means fighting with officialdom and trying to find competent assistance to sort out truck problems. Leaving a city is always a pleasure.
We headed north-west, passing the monastery of Debre Libanos - beautiful view and a church built in the 1960s - before reaching the start of the descent into the Blue Nile Gorge. The tar ended at the start of the gorge, which wasn't really a problem considering it was in such bad condition a friend described it as "like driving on the sea".
From the plateau to the bottom of the gorge is a descent of over 1000 m with the temperature rising as the road drops. We started down the gorge near sunset and the view was amazing. By the time we reached the bridge (you're not allowed to take pictures of the bridge because you may be a spy!) across the river we were in the gloaming and the climb out the gorge was done in the dark.
The climb is long and steep enough that it resulted in the temperature climbing in concert with the road - not because of any problem with the cooling system but because we were crawling along at 20 km/h in second gear for 45 minutes.
Safe Tea First
We bushcamped once out of the gorge and the next morning, while making tea, were greeted by a trio of local tribesmen. They typically all wander around with a straight "walking stick" of hardwood (where they still manage to find hardwood in Ethiopia is a mystery - the only trees which still seem to survive the search for firewood are bluegums) a little over a metre long.
Originally the duka, as the stick is called, was used for fighting but is more commonly used now for resting across the shoulders while walking, supporting any loads the men carry and fighting off dogs.
All three of the men were, I thought, armed with their dukas. It wasn't until Lisa called my attention to the fact that one of the men's dukas was a shooting stick made by Kalashnikov that I began getting nervous.
But after they had watched us for 10 minutes, clad in traditional style with shorts, sandals and a blanket-type shawl come jersey, they waved us goodbye and moved on. We finished our tea in peace and headed on towards Bahir Dar on the shores of Lake Tana.
Within 15 minutes of arriving at the hotel on the lake shore, we met another couple (first met in Addis) who are going the same way and who had just arrived as well. Two minutes later our mad motorcycling friend came around the corner - she was staying in the same hotel!
The birding in the grounds of the Ghion Hotel is great: fish eagles wake you up, vultures waffle around the trees before settle back onto their perches and a host of smaller birds flitter around the lower branches.
Exceedingly Tyring
I spent an afternoon trying to find somewhere that could sell me tyres of the sort and size that I needed but gave up in despair when none of the tyre dealers had ever heard of the concept of wheel balancing. I was assured that evening by the hotel manager that there was a machine in town.
The next morning, I was shown the machine and we proceeded to buy 2 tyres at a shop on the other side of town. But, when it came to fitting the tyres - at a third establishment - it emerged that I had to use all my own tools, do most of the work myself and - after paying the guys for the privilege of letting them use my tools - then take the wheels to another garage to use the air compressor before I would be able to have them balanced. I called it quits and we're now carrying 2 extra tyres around.
Castle Capital
It took us just under six hours to reach Gonder after quitting Bahir Dar in a fume (of diesel and temper!!) where the highlight is the Royal Enclosure perched on a small plateau overlooking the town.
There are several castles within the enclosure, each built by successive rulers who obviously had to have their own place. Some are in advanced states of decay while others have been restored - or are in the process of restoration: one castle has been undergoing this process for the last five years and there isn't a completion date in sight.
The castles themselves are quite fascinating, being in the middle of Africa but having such European influences. The construction was influenced by the Portuguese and Spanish, who had gone to Ethiopia to convert the local Christians to Catholicism (they failed).
Our guide was appalling - arrogant and not very knowledgeable - who harped constantly about the British bombing one of the castles during the Second World War (the Italians had their headquarters there) and the Italians not getting the restoration process right in another castle (We didn't see any that the Ethiopians had restored!).
He was so bad that Lisa and I soon lost interest and just wandered around by ourselves while Benka, a travelling companion, went off and found another guide whom she said was excellent - the sort of person that guides should be.
We finished the day with a last beer - counting out our last Birr to make sure we had enough for fuel to get out of Ethiopia.
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