How do you write a travel blog? It’s a bit of a mystery for
us, but maybe it’s easiest to first describe this new world that we’ve
travelled to, and the position that the three of us have made here.
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, greeted us with armed guards, staring
faces, dry earth and an abundance of flat trees. After a 24 hour journey, we
(with our green, purple and blue backpacks) stumbled into the arms of Meklit’s
beautiful family. Having a true Ethiopian travelling with us has been more
advantageous than having a salt shaker when eating injera. Everything is easier, everything feels more real, and
everything with Meklit distances Lara and myself from feeling like the
naive-witted tourists that we are. After a few days of culture-shock-infused
napping, HyaHulet became our ‘local’, with a street around the corner
showcasing an abundance of coffee, burgers, wote and fruit to choose from. The
stares from the men, and the constant yelped ‘Faranji’ claims have now blended in with the unrecognisable taxi
call outs... ‘Bolebolebolebole Bole
Bole.’
It is clear to us that Addis Ababa is a place of colour,
hunger, shopping, and above all else – people. As white girls from the Inner
West, Africa has made quite an impression on us. It’s a place that has matched
our expectations; with its clear need for help from so many people, but has
also stunned us with its western influences that so intensely collide with
traits that only the developing world can carry off as ‘the charming norm’.
But that’s exactly how we feel now – normal. We can
comfortably waltz down to the coffee shop, the internet cafe, or the cramped
corner store where you can buy delicious menthol lozenges, occasionally
occupied by the odd ant or two.
As we moved through our first week in Addis, we did all the
kosher touristy things which, above all, spawned a curiosity inside us that
made us want to explore further. We visited the Haile Selasie museum, the Lion
Zoo (with its threatening Geladas and freaky bird concoctions... not for the
faint hearted) and the Addis Ababa University. The grounds, matched with the
intellectuals walking around holding their single notepads, was refreshing to
see. It was at that point that we realised that Ethiopia is full of people who
have a social tolerance like no other demographic we’ve seen: It seemed that
for most people, walking past a desperate mother with her baby on the side of
the street, was not as challenging. For us, this was something to get used to.
Something that was haunting, but forgettable in a way that when you were
reminded of it, only guilt could describe the feeling in your belly. How is it
that the people here have the audacity to carry on with whatever daily ritual
they have inherited, when there are men crawling up the street with cardboard
slabs protecting their brittle kneecaps from the dusty cement paths?
It’s as if for all the people who have nothing, nothing is not a problem. It is, but can’t be, so they don’t let it. This
mumble jumble does not eloquently describe the thoughts we have on the city.
Perhaps these confused anecdotes synchronise our newfound outlook on Africa
with Africa itself; a hub of culture that’s constantly riffled by stress, but
is bound by Africans themselves, which is really what makes it so strong. Or;
the forced nature of having to get used to something, as there is no other
option, and this making us stronger and more susceptible to the inevitable
challenges that we will experience and see in the future... as tourists. It’s
all a little over dramatic wouldn’t you say (with my writing approach...).
Aside from the tasty food, busy roads and hustling
pedestrians, Addis presents itself with some of the greatest hospitality, and
hilarities, we’ve ever seen. For example, the women living next to us could not
be more friendly or accommodating. Just now, after spending a long while
exploring the wonders of posed photography, with the many costume changes and
facial expression experimentations, it is clear that for these ladies, cameras
are of a somewhat marvel. This isn’t news to us, just something that fills the
day, and eventually will spiral into joyful memories of our incredible
neighbours.
Over and over again, Lara and I have argued that Addis Ababa
is indescribable to the unknown. The cheapness is forever surprising – a plate
of injera, for 17 birr (the equivalent of $1AUD), is more than enough to fill
you up for a day of taxi riding, family greetings and general sight-seeing. As
irritating and ‘touristy’ as it is, we’ve made a habit out of taking photos
predominantly out the window of the crammed blue speeding taxis, this in the
efforts of avoiding further staringJ
Last Saturday we became part of the huge masses of people
walking through the streets of Mercato–
the biggest market in Africa. There were spices, mules, shoes, traditional
clothes, buckets and jewellery, all presented to us with a spoonful of light
abuse... odd how the price of things dramatically heightens due to our western
looks. Well... ‘Odd’ is a little strong. After purchasing shoes that I now
share with many of the men in this town, it was time to sit down to some injera
and Coca Cola. We have found coke to be one of many small pleasures that,
although simple, falls into a little ritual; order a coke, watch the waiter pop
the cap off the glass bottle, and then progress to either down the liquid in
between spicy mouthfuls, or pour the contents into an empty water bottle to
enjoy at home.
We were lucky enough to score our own house... with faux
snakeskin couches, a fridge and good old comforting MTV. What more could you
need? No, but really, having a home to call our own has directly enhanced our
comfort and confidence in this new place. Although at first the feeling of
missing family, home and friends was ubiquitous, and an easy answer to unhinged
mood swings, it’s now clear that home is where we’ll end up once again in 8 or
so months... so why worry? This is our new home... suppose it’ll constantly
change, just like we’re meant to. The people here, we’ve decided, fall into one
of two categories. Either they are genuinely happy and kind, or they are just
out-of-this-world-crazy... well that at least explains the ones that we’ve been
around.
It is clear,
that the population of Ethiopia is highly religious. Whether this consists of
morning prays before school at the local church, seven days a week, or
decorating the home with an abundance of religious figures, it is something
that every Ethiopian has been brought up with. A number of times we have been
asked what we believe in. Not able to comprehend our answer, we say to pairs of
curious Ethiopian eyes that we don’t believe in anything. It’s just not
something that has to be done in Australia due to the eclectic mix of cultures.
Still, they do not understand.
Feeling slightly
out of the loop, we visited the Bole Medihalem Orthodox church, the 3rd
largest in Africa. The large white building with stained glass windows and blue
dome roofs acts somewhat as a sanctuary for many passing the busy Addis city.
With the opportunity to enter the inside of the church, wearing our white
headscarfs and with bare feet, a sudden wave of stillness washed over me as the
air felt stifled. It felt like time had stopped on the inside of the church. A
feeling we hadn’t experienced since our time here. Our guide took us around the
two levels of the church explaining the paintings and seating arrangements.
Further to our embarrassment, he pursued to ask trivial questions about
Orthodox Christianity. Gawping with our mouths open, a pregnant pause meandered
through the empty room, luckily Meklit saved us with her admirable knowledge.
Along with our many visits to the local bunna (coffee) house, our fraternisation with our house keepers and
our dining experience with ‘Kitfo’
(MEAT!)... our visit to the Habesha restaurant clarifies a tourists’
interpretation of the best side of Addis. With neck-popping dancing, delicious
injera and the infamous, yet still untested, Tej, the Habesha experience was
one that, without a doubt, will be the prompt for spirals of laughter in the
future. Perhaps the story of seeing an Ethiopian man openly peeing whilst
chatting me up can act as a small hint for such a prediction.
With a few small hiccups... a wallet stolen and a rock thrown
to the back, our time here has been such a jumble of optimistic features and
experiences. We’ve learnt more than we expected, we’ve seen more than
anticipated, and most importantly, have successfully begun feeling like
Ethiopia is where we can feel at home.
