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Published: February 17th 2010
Piazza
And we fit 15+ people in those vans!On Valentines Day, I fell in love....................................with Addis.
I also, fell into a guy on the street. I was distracted by a little boy who was trying to sell me a puppy that looked like a tiny German Sheppard/St. Bernard cross. My first thought was: “Wow! If this was a ploy to mug me (it wasn’t), that little kid had me pegged!” My second was: “That’s going to leave a mark”… and it did.
You may remember that I spent the first two weeks of my time here in Addis battling what I like to call: “newcomers’ agoraphobia.” I spent the next two weeks hopping from place to place, getting just a small tantalizing taste of all that there is to experience in Ethiopia both inside and outside of Addis Ababa. Now, just shy of the one-month mark, I have become completely infatuated with the place!
PIAZZA
Friday night I went to Piazza, a social hub best known for its silver jewelry stores and Tomoca café where you can buy freshly roasted Harar coffee beans, with two coworkers. We started out the evening with “sost Macchiatos” at Tomoca after which, seduced by the pungent aroma that fills this
Juice Hut
This pic was taken at a really wierd angle.. which is why I am laughing... but the guy really didnt have a choice, theres not much wiggle room in here! small café (standing room only), AM purchased 1 large and 2 small bags of Harar beans for less than $5CAD. The coffee really does have an unmistakable smoky-cocoa taste to it and is absolutely delicious! Once the caffeine boost kicked in, we headed off to the jewelry shops which line the main street running perpendicular to Churchill, another major cross-cutting road in Addis. The jewelry is stunning and unique, but to find those truly one-of-a-kind pieces would take some patience and dedication to the task, so I held off buying much on this first trip. In the vicinity of this jewelry strip there are also many little themed pods led into by narrow crowded alleyways where you can find leather shoes and bags, traditional clothing, housewares and yep, more jewelry, for a fraction of the cost of what they would be in Canada.
What I found most refreshing about the Piazza experience, was price standardization! Expats in Addis spend a significant amount of time each day just bargaining down prices; in Piazza, prices of jewelry are negotiable, but the starting prices are determined by the weight of the item and calculated right in front of you - no arbitrary
Playful Pup
What grabs your attention in this pic: the playful pup of teh row of houses they are playing in front of? game-play.
Among all these beautiful pieces of jewelry however, the real gem we discovered was this tiny wooden shack at the top of the street swarming with fruit flies. The front window of the shop was stacked from the ground to the scales hanging about a foot below the roof with a variety of battered fruits. We squeezed in behind the counter to find a few low wooden stools clustered around a collapsible table that was covered in beer mugs lined with some thick brownish liquid. If you are anything like me, you would be intrigued by this place but at the same time you would also be a little wary about what might emerge from the little trap door on the back wall. So what was it? In honour of the ongoing Olympics on my home soil: it was the gold medalist of freshly squeezed juices. This particular one was a colorfully layered combination of strawberry, mango, avocado, and orange juices.
Your daily servings of fruit, 90cents; time spent EATING the juice and chatting with friends… priceless!
FELLOW EXPATS
AM departed for Toronto early Saturday morning. I woke up to find myself alone in the room,
Sunshine!
Cant remember what these flowers are called but they do a great job of masking barbed wire but no longer alone in the city! At 10am, after accidentally taking a minibus to Bole rather than Tele Bole and compensating for my error with a 10minute speed walk in the right direction, I met up with three fellow expats, similarly new to Addis and homeless. After my incredibly awkward lunch with ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’, I was actually scared to discover what kind of characters I was about to meet. As it turned out, one of them had also encountered the ‘Dark Lord’ earlier in the week and had fed him precisely the same series of lies as I had: “Hi! I enjoyed meeting you” (lie #1); “I am sorry to have to inform you that I have already found accommodations” (lie #2); “I hope that you enjoy your stay in Addis” (lie #3). Again, I do not wish that he has a negative experience here in Ethiopia, just that he does not inflict himself upon the country any longer than necessary. So already I knew that we had something in common, these fellow expats and I. The two girls are here from France on 6 months contracts like me with two separate organizations; the guy is here for a 3
Azmari
Thats the Azmari in the background with the dancers in the foreground. No camera tricks here, this is actually what it looks like inside. VERY appropriate for Valentines eh? month stint from Germany to complete his surgery residency requirements. They were all super people and we agreed to search for an apartment in the area, a midpoint between our individual offices, together. We also agreed to meet up later that night…
MERKATO
In the afternoon I had arranged to meet up with a guy from India who I had initially come in contact with via an online expat forum, Internations. I was actually supposed to meet him earlier in the week right around the time I was hugging the porcelain for dear life. When I informed him of my stomach issues he laughed (as any good-humoured person would) and said that he didn’t have to worry about such things having a well-groomed Indian belly. So I call him on Saturday around noon to arrange a place to meet, and where is he? At the doctors office getting treatment for a severe bacterial infection in his stomach that has caused his body to produce a number large red welts on his neck, back, and forearms. Very appropriately, my response to this news was simply: “Karma.”
We decided to meet, welts and all, at the Edna center on Tele
Wedaj!
(Friends) Another highlight on this night was our shockingly affordable tab! Bole where he had the company driver on loan, waiting to take us to Merkato, the largest outdoor market in all of Africa. There is a debate on the technical accuracy of this claim considering Merkato has evolved over the years into more of a sprawling slum of tin-roofed shacks standing shoulder to shoulder as far as the eye can see (literally!) than an open-air market; technicalities aside, hundreds of vendors selling everything from spices to leather footwear to scrap metal is worthy of every bit of every awestruck review it receives. My favourite section, aside from the scarf section which had materials from all over the world in every colour you can imagine, was the drums section. Here there were maybe two dozen workers hammering, re-sealing, slicing open, stacking, and filling both plastic and metal drums. The cacophony of noises produced by their hard work, made walking into this section of the market feel like I was walking into the middle of a live stomp concert!
Like Piazza, I left Merkato having not purchased much, determined to collect truly one-of a kind pieces. There is rumoured to be a section of the market where the goods are made solely from recycled plastics/rubbers/metals.
Prior to taking on Merkato, I had been warned countless times to strip myself of any valuables including all jewelry, my camera, and cell phone and to not carry any bag at all into the market. They say if you stand in one corner you will see theft happen every few minutes. Parag, an amateur photographer, had his digital SLR in his backpack and so we arranged ourselves in a line as we navigated the narrow passageways with Parag sandwiched between myself and Kassu, the driver. I was also advised not to draw attention to where I was carrying my money - a difficult thing to do when it comes time to PAY for something - but I was careful not to touch my zippered pockets outside of any store except for an occasional subtle tap to make sure they were still full. The last bit of advice I received was to go with a local your first time so they can teach you how to haggle, and the next time, to go alone and get completely lost. So this time Kassu taught me to always ask for a price less than 50% of whatever they quote off the bat. It is because of this useful skill that I managed to acquire a beautiful locally crafted scarf for 60Birr instead of 260Birr like a chummmmm-p! (The Simpsons reference) Next time, I look forward to getting lost for hours on end and hope to stumble up on that recycled goods section. The tallest building in Addis is not far from Merkato, so in theory, if I get too lost, I should be able to find a high point of land or stand on a donkey or something and aim for that landmark.
In the interest of maintaining the integrity of this blog, I must confess to something (parents, relatives, and goody-two-shoes: avert your eyes!). In Ethiopia there is a plant called chat that is an openly used, legal narcotic of sorts. According to the ol’ Lonely Planet, there are some concerns about the size of the portion of the population which uses/relies on chat as a mind-altering substance. My first exposure to chat came while I was in Jarso. As we were sitting in that roadside tea shelter, a few of the truckers passing through town stopped here to purchase bundles of chat. To give you an idea of how much people tend to chew in one sitting, each of the truckers could usually clasp two hands around the stems of their individual bundles. Each time I witnessed the process it was the same routine: they grabbed a rock, sat down, and started to pluck the red-rooted leaves off the stems. One-by-one they placed them in their cheeks and started to gnaw on the leaves reminding me of how baseball players chew tobacco. The effects can vary. Some people say that the leaves are a hallucinogenic and make you see images or vibrant colours, others say its dangerous to chew chat if you are at all upset because it can amplify depression; the more widely accepted consensus is that the effects are not unlike those of marijuana and so it is used as a social drug, making conversation flow, making jokes just a little bit more entertaining than they may otherwise be, and making people more appreciative of their surroundings/company. Kassu got us just a tiny sample to taste - not NEARLY enough to have any impact on our states of mind…THAT would have been a bad idea in the middle of Merkato! We each popped a few leaves into our cheeks and FRIG! That stuff is bitter! The slightly glossy-eyed old-timers sitting nearby were poised to observe our first impressions and were not disappointed. Haha
After a quick macchiato in a café on the top floor of a nearby building from which we could see nothing BUT Merkato all the way to the hills, it started to rain so we headed “home”. (It is going to feel so good when I can STOP putting the word “home” in quotations.
Side note: On the having-a-place-to-unpack front, we found perfect little gated home for three in a village in an area of town called Kezenches. We were all set to sign a contract today and the landlord phoned to let us know that somebody else signed for more money last night… I still love Adds, I still love Addis, I still love Addis…
FENDIKA
You know you’ve been living in the same place for a long time when you get to know the names of all the cabbies that work your area. My favourites are Mohammed, a young boy who isn’t quite jaded enough yet to really haggle with foreigners and so drives me places for much cheaper than the competition tends to, and Jonas, who is just a cool dude that I like to chat to. I have his number programmed into my phone, but there was no need to call for a lift on this night - he was parked just around the corner!
He drove me to meet Justine and Laetitia at their hotel off Tele Bole and from there we started towards the nearest minibus stop. Justine had not yet taken a minibus…
I JUST realized that I did NOT make a well-deserved spectacle of my first minibus ride which by the way was about 3 weeks ago now! I rode for 90cents ETB from the guesthouse to the office! The fact that I walked for 1hr yesterday from Kezenches to Megenegna is pretty indicative of just how sub-par my skills are when it comes to efficiently using transportation here in Addis, but I’m working on it every day!
Anyways, as I was saying: Justine had not yet taken a minibus, so we stood waiting for one where a little cluster of people had formed. At night, transportation gets more expensive so everyone takes the minibuses rather than taxis. It is common to go to 3-4places in one night here. Usually you start with coffee or drinks around 6/7pm, then dinner around 8/9pm, followed by drinks at 11/12am. If you are really going for a big night, this stop will be followed by even more drinks at 1/2am at any one of a number of lounges, clubs, bars etc. The purpose of me providing this information to you was to demonstrate that everyone is generally traveling between spots at the same time and therefore, the busses are rammed! We are weak little expats and surrendered to the call of a taxi in the end, but the truly determined among that cluster of people DID prevail. This process is survival of the fittest at its best!
**This next paragraph is best when read in the voice of the unfortunately departed Steve Irwin in the style of a play-by-play recap:
Seeing the cluster of people ready to pounce as soon as the door opened, an already full approaching minibus swerved violently away from the swarming crowds! It carried on down the street, traveling only a fraction slower than full speed, hovering near to the curb and dodging numerous parkerd cars. 3 young females, looking confused, gave up on the bus and were seen getting into a taxi across the street. Meanwhile a handful of brave persons, clearly native to the area, hiked up their trousers and booked it down the street in pursuit of the overcrowded minibus. Deeming the pursuers worthy, the driver slowed the bus. The door opened and the fittest of the original cluster were rewarded with a brain-rattling ride to their next destination.
Haha OK, moving along… it was too bad that we couldn’t get Justine on a bus, but we DID make it to Fendika (a place recommended to us by some of her coworkers). It was just after 8 when we arrived and we were informed by a man at the rusted patch-work gate that the doors wouldn’t even open until 10. So we took the lemons and made bayaynatu! Bayaynatu is the most common fasting dish; it is comprised of multiple piles of various pureed veggies and other plant-based foods which are segregated and served on a big tray of injera. It was here in this little restaurant with beads for a door, that I had my first grown-up Amharic conversation! Nothing to impressive but here’s roughly how it went:
Me: “Selam” (Hello)
Waitor: “Dehnanish” (How are you)
“Dehnaneh” (How are you) *you assume each other is good haha
“Inglizgna Amharic?” (Do you speak Amharic?)
“Tinsh tinsh!” (VERY little!)
“Eshi, tiru!” (That’s good!)
“Bayaynatu ale?” (Do you have fasting food here?)
“Awon” (Yes)
“And bayaynatu, and tibs, ibakh.” (1 bayaynatu, and 1 tibs, please)
“Bugh dehna new?” (Sheep meat is ok?)
“Eshi, dehna.” (Ok, that is fine)
“And bayaynatu, yelam sost?” (Only 1, not 3?)
“Yelam, and bakh new.” (No, 1 is enough)
“Eshi.” (Ok)
“Ammesegnallehu.” (Thank you)
Not bad eh? But I have to add that he got really excited to hear a foreigner speaking Amharic and started to rattle on at me a little later in the evening at which point I was forced to revert back to English and say: “Sorry, only tinsh tinsh!” haha
It still wasn’t 10pm by the time we finished eating; Parag and his friend Ashish hadn’t shown up yet either, so we took it on down the road to a patio bar and had some St. George beers. Fendika is about as ‘local’ as it gets, so when Parag called to ask for a landmark, I asked a guy on the street: “Fendika landmark mindh?” (Pathetic Amharic attempt at saying: “What is a landmark for Fendika?”) His response was the beauty parlor behind us. Over the phone, Parag responded with one of the only Amharic words he knows - which I will not repeat (haha) - but turned up a few minutes later anyways, so I guess the beauty parlor did the trick!
We finally went to Fendika, which we had been told was a jazz bar, around 11 and sat at a table near the back. Word to the wise: do NOT sit anywhere within nose-shot of an Ethiopian bathroom. This particular bathroom was especially narly, carved out of stone/dirt, with nothing to it but a 5ft wooden door latched shut by some frayed twine and a muddied squat hole! Let me tell you, the experience was worth putting up with the stench. Fendika, it turns out, is an Azmari house! Azmaris, I described in the Timkat blog, are like stand-up comics who tell jokes in the form of limerick or song. The bits are usually accompanied by dancers or the strumming on the traditional version of a guitar. I can’t tell you what any of the performers said that night, but I have a strong sense that Toronto and Paris took a beating! The locals loved it and even though we couldn’t understand, their laughter was infectious.
A highlight of the night for me, however, was the dancing! This was not like any of the dancing I had done up to this point because this time I got up voluntarily. Parag, Ashish, Justine and I pushed our way onto the dance floor and joined in in all the shoulder-shaking, jumping-around-while-turning-in-a-circle action! It was an absolute blast. Everyone dances with everyone else, shouts and makes noise, and gives each other a hug or pat on the shoulder when the music changes tempo. It was an amazing time, but we were all so exhausted by 2am when it was really picking up that we unfortunately had to go. Pauvre Justine, who’s English is phenomenal, was so tired that she couldn’t even make a single complete sentence to let us know that she agreed that it was time to leave… so just gave an exaggerated nod instead. Haha
PARIS TO CHECHNYA
The next day went much the same way. I walked around Bole in the afternoon, waiting for a call from another member of the Toronto office who had arrived in town early in the morning and was presumably napping. This would be when I ploughed into that guy on the street. Yep.
I took a rest at La Parisienne café (in honour of my new friends) and sipped on a juice while finishing up The Elegance of the Hedgehog - a book translated from French actually. The two protagonists in the story are geniuses in their own rights, living under the radar of the rest of the world. The 12 year old and the middle-aged concierge form an empathetic bond through their discussions concerning a series of “profound thoughts” which culminate in their tackling of the question: what is the meaning of life? Even if you don’t typically enjoy reading philosophy, which I do, it was a great read. It had me constantly pausing to evaluate their perspectives on these “profound thoughts” and the storyline surprised me with every few turns of the page.
Sunday night was another eventful evening but nothing worth going into much detail about. My coworkers and I went to 4 separate venues including: a pizza place; Elsa’s, the outdoor beer garden in ‘Chechnya’; the place NEXT to Elsa’s, also owned by Elsa where they serve great tibs with entertainment; a piano bar under the Meridian Hotel where a bunch of different singers accompanied by a guy playing the keyboards sang everything from popular local tunes to “Stayin’ Alive!” We got back to the guesthouse around 3:30am after a trip to the only 24hr grocer in town and made spaghetti with pizza sauce and pealed tomatoes.
ALE AND CHACHI
Haha Ale and Chachi are G’s cousins who I have mentioned in an earlier blog. I think I may have referred to them as the Ethiopian version of the 3 stooges (their brother Peter is back at university) and I stand by that first impression. Along with G, we spent the night between three separate places trading language lessons and, resultantly, sharing lots of laughs. On that note, as per usual…
AMHARIC VOCAB
Man - who
Mindh - what
Yet - where
Meché - when
Lemn - why
Indet - how
Sinteh new - How much is it?
Bet - house
Chigr - problem!
(You can see how the last three relate and would be useful to know, eh?)
I have officially given up injera for the time being as I was once again forced to lurch for a toilet bowl last night just about an hour after sharing some with Ale.
Before signing off I want to take a minute to talk about toilets. I know I described the base-camp toilet in some detail already, but I would like to make some more general statements about facilities in Addis.
- Toilet paper is a luxury. 90% of the time there will not be any toilet paper, paper towels, or tissues of any kind in a washroom. That is why many people carry Birr in 1 pocket, and a stash of tissues in the other.
- Seats are also a luxury. If you are in a place where there is a washroom with a seat, even if you don’t really need to go, it’s wise to take advantage before moving on. Otherwise you are taking a pretty certain gamble with your quad muscles.
- Flushing - another luxury. In those rare bathrooms where there is a toilet with a seat, you often find that the flushing mechanism is either broken or simply not functioning due to limited water supply/pressure. Instead you will likely find either a few 1.5L jugs of water tucked away in a corner, or a large jerry can filled with water that has a bottle with the top sliced off of it (a make-shift bucket) floating on top. Flush away!
Loves and Misses,
Mandy
P.S. GO CANADA GO!!!
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I enjoyed reading your blog. It looks like you have a lot of learning to do on your Amharic. It is good to hear you are enjoying the city. I would say knowing the right people and having money can make you go from zero to sixty in three sec. Things I would recommend you do. Try Tej (Ethiopian wine made out of honey), the best place for it in my opinion is Sululta, it is normally 25c CAD in the city, but the real thing is a lot more expensive about 2CAD a glass. I don’t have time right now but if you want me to I can recommend a lot