11/27/09
I have not had the chance to put my thoughts down in a few days. The American Holiday “Thanksgiving” has past and hopefully you all know how thankful I am for everything in my life.
Two days ago while still in Addis Ababa, I met with sister Carol. She is currently teaching an English class at St. Francis Friary among other things. She is originally from America. She has been a nun for over 25 years she tells me.
We sit and chat for a while about Ethiopia, and America. I come to find out she is trying to prepare a Poetry class for the students in addition to the English classes. In this I can help her.
Abba Daniel made some copies of my “Sound and Sense” Introduction to poetry book with detailed explanations of metaphors, imagery, rhyme, meter, etc… The book also has examples as well as exercises for students. I hope it will help her.
On the 26th at 5am we left the compound and Addis heading towards Harar. We had two Catholic bishops with us. It was a long journey to Harar. We stopped at four different compounds visiting the Abbas, sisters, and schools set up.
Each place we stopped wanted to serve us tea (shy) or coffee (buna) it is also common to have toasted barley as a snack/treat. Everyone I have met was very nice and hospitable.
Of course the kids all want to say hello and one little boy wanted to hold my hand (which is common to hold hands as a sign of friendship.) In one of the classrooms the women were learning to sew, but most of the classrooms were for elementary through 9th grade.
Everywhere is drought. There just isn’t enough water for people in Ethiopia. One of the most valuable possessions of the compounds is their water reservoir. They collect water during the wet season to use when there is no water during the dry season (we are currently in the dry season.)
On the way to Harar you will see goats, donkeys, chickens, different types of cows and camels. Since there is such a deficiency of water most people here rely on meat to sustain themselves for food. Hawks and vultures circle the skies.
You will still see crops of maze, tef, eatable greens, and so on. There is an abundance of bananas, oranges, mango and papaya, but since there is no way to preserve these perishables when they are out of season they are out.
Nothing is processed here like in America. Everything is organic and fresh. It has to be there is no source for anything else. No refrigerators or microwaves. Only in the Catholic compounds you will see a stove. Only in a few places can you find dried pasta, or a can of something. People here just don’t have the money to afford such luxuries. Most families don’t even use electricity.
Everything in Ethiopia especially agriculture is the same technology as it’s been for thousands of years. The difference to thousands of years ago and today is that most people in the big cities have a cell phone and maybe a family car if they have any money.
Arab countries, Italians, and the ancient Egyptians have mostly influenced Ethiopia.
The closer to Harar you get the more Chat crops and people carrying chat around. People lying around chewing, and so on. The houses are either square and made of sticks and mud with tin roofs, or round made of sticks, mud, and a straw thatched roof.
All the men have clothes on, most of the women are covered up as well, but a few women you will see without tops. Children mostly have some sort of clothes on but in some of the remote places the younger children were naked as well.
There are lots of mountains. The view is amazing. We must have past maybe four or five accidents on the side of the road. Big trucks turned over with people standing all around. It didn’t look like anyone was hurt but goods were scattered and the trucks twisted and in ruin.
I haven’t exactly had the reaction I expected to get in Ethiopia. I‘m thrilled that most of the people here other than a few, don’t even bat an eyelash. No one is calling out “Frengis” as many of the blogs I read about foreigners visiting described.
We finally arrive at the walls that engulf Harar. The entrance to the Catholic Church we will spend the night at open its gates. “Salaam” and nods are exchanged. Once in the foyer I am shown to my room for the night.
We wash up and have dinner. The Bishop gives a spoonful of something yellow and alcoholic to Worku. He coughs and almost spits it out. The old bishop laughs. He says, “This one is not good anymore. See the sediment at the bottom? I will get another bottle.” He returns with a full bottle and explains that is whiskey he has made himself.
After dinner I am invited to watch TV for a while. How surprised am I to find out that both the bishop and Abba Worku are wrestling fanatics! We were just in time to watch WWE as it is now called.
Watching them so engaged in this sort of American entertainment brings me back to memories of my sister Arielle and myself years ago. We used to love to watch wrestling and then try to wrestle with each other in out living room. Arielle was still in diapers. We would get into costume and everything enacting out scenes we had just watched or making up our own.
After WWE is over, I head to my room and am suddenly in front of a very old nun. She rattles off a long string of Amharic. I say the only words I have learned so far. “Duhna Nuwot?” (Polite way of saying: you are fine?) She says some more in Amharic… I say, “Alguban~um” (I don’t understand.)
She then says, “Italian?” and a long string of words in Italian.
“No, American.” I say.
“Oh!” she smiles and continues to say more things in Amharic and pats my back, smiling before leaving me.
(Notice the loud speakers in the windows.)
I return to my room. I sleep. I am awoken by the most disturbing sound. It’s 4:30 in the morning and speakers from the Mosque are blaring prayers. It feels like the room is shaking with the awful declarations. I get up only to record some of this so you believe me. I lay in bed waiting until it finally stops an hour later.
After a small breakfast with Buna (coffee) I take a tour of the compound.
(I am shown the water reservoir which has a solar panel system to clean It.) 
The old nuns (two of them) really hope I will stay with them. With a somewhat wiry grin I tell Worku I am not able to make that type of commitment. I thank them for the offer (which Worku interprets.) and promise I will however see them again…
We pack up the Toyota and head out to Dire Dawa…..
No comments:
Post a Comment