On the road again. This time to Harar in Ethiopia's eastern frontier. I've had at least three days where I've spent the entire day on a bus and several more in which I've had a good part of the day with my butt glued to a bus seat. Buses, at least in Addis are a real pain because all of them leave at roughly 6 AM from the terminal in the dodgiest part of town. Bole and the Merkato area couldn't be more different: in the former I can indulge in an "Avril Lavigne" pizza at the Oh Canada Cafe, yet the latter I have to watch my back and am lucky to have a cup of coffee in a less-than-hygenic tin shack with beggars and flies buzzing about. Thankfully I didn't have to wait long for the bus to go but I was tired as the orange sun rose slowly over the slums of Addis. It's very shocking and sad seeing rows and rows of homeless people huddled next to each other on the sidewalk. Africa is teaching me some lessons, and I must remember James' words: TIA = This is Africa. Sometimes I whinge about a minibus door being slammed in my face but I must remember TIA. The bus ride was the same routine: shut windows, loud music, jam-packed, and one faranji (and that's me). Vehicles of any type never leave until packed solid; there's no such thing as a half-full bus in Ethiopia. A few hours outside Addis we were stopped by the police. I couldn't tell what was going on but it appeared several people had to get off the bus because it was filled beyond capacity. This allowed me a bathroom break and allowed me to snap photos of huts and acacia trees.
Digging into some beyanetu with injera for lunch, I feel happy that, after recharging my batteries in the comforts of Bole, I'm now back in the real Ethiopia. Even with all the challenges this has been an incredible journey! Spiced tea, trekking the Simiens, Lalibela's churches, tej, CouchSurfers, Lucy, coffee ceremonies, and the Blue Nile Falls have been some of the many high points. Beggars, hustlers, long bus rides, flies, and dust so bad I've had to scrub it off are some of the things I'll wish to forget. Speaking of beggars, an old woman missing both of her hands was banging on the window for change. I've seen so many Ethiopians who are disfigured: missing legs, eyes, hands, feet, and the whole lot. It's very sad. We were in the market town Asbe Tefari when we had lunch.
Whilst I envisioned the ride to be flatter than most of the rides up north there were a lot of hairpin turns and wasn't vastly different to some of the other rides. 10 hours after leaving Addis we were in Harar, said to be the fourth most important city in Islam after Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem. Harar is surrounded by a wall and it seems that a purple is a popular colour. There are 368 alleys in an area of about 1 sq km. As I chat to a South African couple I'm invited to see something that makes Harar famous: feeding hyenas. Whilst I take up the offer I'm not sure what my host, Valerie has planned. As I search around for something to eat a whole pack of schoolkids chase me, asking me for money. Being in Ethiopia I've learned the Orthodox church seems to encourage begging, and that those well off should help the less fortunate. As much as I love to help people, if I gave to every beggar who approached me I'd be completely broke. After eating a bit too much pizza and vegetable soup I'm met by Valerie: a gorgeous French lady teaching at a local university. French girls and beauty sure go hand in hand; it seems there's no such thign as an ugly French girl. Her husband, Jocia is from Namibia and they have a 3-year old son. For awhile we talked about life in Ethiopia and about how it's such a complicated country. She then offered me some loose-leaf green tea that was so good I had several cups. Valerie's home shall be my home for the next couple of days, and here I am.
