Fortuitous Misadventures

My taxi driver expressed concern for my safety when I told him my destination. I assured him that I was meeting a friend, even though I was in fact meeting someone I had never met before. He didn’t need to know that part.

It was June and I was in Addis Ababa for a week. Through my friend network, I knew someone who lived about an hour outside Addis in Holeta Genet. I had a free day and she kindly agreed to meet and take me to Holeta.

I grabbed a taxi from the hotel and asked the driver to take me to Autobus Terra, the main bus station which borders the Mercato. Throngs of people move in and out of the station and market area; any foreigner sticks out like the proverbial sore thumb and becomes a target for pickpocketing. However, it wasn’t the overwhelming chaos of Autobus Terra, my new friend, or the ride to Holeta that was the most remarkable. It was the ride back that really produced the best memories of that day.

We departed Holeta with a full minibus. These blue and white minibuses can fit about ten people in them, plus the fare collector and driver. While my friend had traveled with me to Holeta, I traveled back to Addis on my own. I like to think that it was the change in altitude—Ethiopia is thousands of feet above sea level in comparison to my hometown Boston—that made the short walk to the bus stop in Holeta feel like a strenuous workout. Okay, maybe being pathetically out of shape at the time contributed.

I entered the minibus a sweaty mess. I tried reassuring myself that no one noticed. A few words were said in Amharic followed by some laughter, and then someone wiped the back of my neck with her hand. Hmm, noticed. Someone handed me tissues and a window was opened. Well, at least I got the embarrassing stuff out of the way.

The fare collector was a small boy who sat on the floor of the bus. I knew no Amharic, so in English I asked how much for the fare and simultaneously held up all 10 fingers to indicate 10 Birr. Laughter erupted from the other passengers. One of the passengers mimicked my hand gesture, which produced more laughter.

I may have looked ridiculous, but nothing breaks the ice more than laughter, even at my expense. The rest of the ride was spent in friendly chatter. One woman spoke excellent English and she served as our translator. I received many suggestions of places to visit and my fellow passengers expressed their disappointment that I was not spending more time their lovely country. I couldn’t have agreed more.