Sunday, March 20, 2016

Back to Basics - Sam

Matt and I are reluctantly back to the bus circuit as we recently sold our bikes in Dinsho last week. It was not an easy decision to sell them there as we had much more of Ethiopia to visit, but we met a guy in town who said he had someone who was willing to give us a fair price for the bikes. As it is not legal to sell our Kenyan purchased bikes in Ethiopia we thought it was a smart move to go ahead and take the offer given, which was about $540, a little under half of what we paid. We thought this was a good price considering there was no way to register the bikes in the country legally.

We sat down for coffee with our friend, who was working to be a guide in the Bale mountains, and he told us about his friend who was interested in the Boxer 150's which seem to be a very sought after bike in Ethiopia. As we were speaking of what a fair price would be and while Matt and I discussed whether we wanted to sell them at all, the man who wanted to purchase them showed up. He didn't speak English so our friend translated between us as we negotiated. We agreed on a price and the man immediately went to his home and got the cash. He showed back up and handed each of us large stacks of cash...in front of everyone around. White people are enough of a spectacle as it is, especially in southern Ethiopia, and this didn't help deter interest. We were paid 23,000 Birr a very large sum of cash for Ethiopia. We were told you could have a house built for 40,000. On top of this the guy hadn't even seen the bikes. We were obviously surprised as in America you would never give someone cash before seeing and inspecting a vehicle. Little did he know I had a bent engine guard and another bent rack on the back of the bike, but let's not talk about that.

Next came the interesting process of registering the vehicles. Part of the price the man offered us he felt was fair after he calculated how much he would have to bribe officials to get the bikes registered. We were told by our friend that this man had friends that could help him make the bikes appear legal in the country. To make the bikes "legal" money had to be slipped to someone in an office, which we never saw happen, and we had to give copies of our passports to an official and sign a document that stated we gave the man the bikes as "gifts." Everything seemed to be going smoothly until we reached one major setback. The power was out in the town so the official couldn't print the proper documents. The buyer of the bikes, who was running everywhere trying to make the deal happen, knew what needed to be done. He had the official hand write what needed to be included in the document and he then ran to find a generator that he would use to power a computer and printer in which he typed up the documents and printed them off. We were back in business. We now had the documents signed, dated and ready to be officially stamped. Once the documents where stamped the deal was done. Government corruption is great, when it benefits you of course.


Our bikes sold, we then set off by bus to Addis Ababa the next day. We didn't want to stick around too long knowing so many people in town knew the two white boys had so much cash on them. That made us feel less than safe and I certainly had my knife by my bed and found comfort in the fact that Matt had the bear mace by his. All went well though and off we went to Addis Ababa.

Buses in Ethiopia can be a tremendous hassle we were soon to find out. Our friend who helped us sell our bikes also helped us buy tickets for a bus to Addis the following day. We met him in the morning and he helped us find our bus. One problem. When we gave our tickets to the ticket man on the bus he wouldn't let us on. Our guide and a friend of his who was also boarding the bus started going back and forth angrily until finally the man gave in and let us on the bus. As it turns out it was the wrong bus. The one in which we needed was ahead of this one and had already gone. We were reluctantly allowed to sit in the front of the bus on the compartment that housed the engine for about 120km until three other passengers who getting off and we would get seats.

In Addis we yet again began the process of going to the embassy and trying to apply for our Sudanese visa. We are currently still waiting on the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Khartoum to run our documents and approve our visa applications. They will then send our information to Addis where it will be as little as 24 hours to get our visas. That is assuming everything goes according to plan, but as we know, nothing in Africa ever does. If our information is in Addis by Monday and we can get our visa by Tuesday off we go to Sudan. Otherwise we are calling it and flying to Cairo as we are getting quite short of time. We have less than 4 weeks before we fly back.

I found Addis to be a nice change from the week prior. We had been in rural Kenya and Ethiopia for over a week since we left Nairobi and it was nice to have the comforts of big city again. Addis is full of cafes as coffee and espresso are important parts of Ethiopian culture. We even found a small place that roasts their own beans. As Matt mentioned, food in Ethiopia is very good as well, a much needed change from all the ugali in Kenya. In all honestly the food all through southern Africa and East Africa didn't change much. You could always find ugali, rice, beans, meat and maybe some vegetables. Other than that, there was little variety and it was spiced similarly plain everywhere we have been. Ethiopian food is spiced much differently, and although there seems to be little variety within traditional Ethiopian cuisine, it is still a nice change from the rest of Africa.With every dish, you also get the standard serving of spicy green chiles, one of my favorite additions.

Ethiopians view eating food and drinking coffee as a social activity, things to be shared. Of course it is a necessity to eat, but Ethiopians show that it is also meant to be enjoyed. The food is served on a large silver tray roughly 25in. in diameter. Injera (the large sourdough crepe) is then laid out covering the entire tray. Food is then placed on the injera. If you order two servings of food you don't get a second platter, more food is just piled on. You then tear a piece of injera with your hands and use it to scoop up the different vegetables, lentils and meat. Silverware is just not needed.

As nice as it can sometimes be to have the comforts of a metropolis at your disposal, it can be equally rewarding to leave. One can only take so much pollution, large crowds, noise, and general overstimulation, so we set off to Lalibela by bus in hopes that upon our return to Addis our Sudanese visa would be ready to process. We arrived at the bus station at about 4:45am ready to find our bus, tickets in hand. We walk around the station full of buses showing people who look like they work there our tickets and having them point us in the direction of the bus we need. After wondering around trying to find the number of the bus that matched our ticket we were asked to sit and wait on the bus to arrive. There were a couple other people waiting as well, a young guy and an old man. After a while the kid tells us to follow him. We get up and head back to the yard full of buses. Every person you ask about which bus to get points you in a different direction. We zig-zag across the yard many times more and then wait a little longer. Finally someone tells us our bus isn't coming.

We are assigned a new bus and get a new ticket written up. Matt waits outside with our things and I get on the bus to grab a couple seats. There isn't a seat in sight and the bus is already packed. I get off, tell the guy who gave us a new ticket and he gives me back my old ticket and again points us in direction that likely doesn't result in anything conclusive. We walk into an office where a man again tells us our bus is not going to come, tells us to get a refund and sends us into yet another building to get our money back. At this point Matt and I are frustrated to say the least, given we have been at the station over an hour and only utter chaos has consumed our time. We get our money back and decide to hop on a bus that is going to a city along the way. I was just happy to have a spot on a bus. The ride6 to Lalibela takes two days anyway and the city we were headed towards was the city our bus was supposed to stop in, so we made the right decision. The decision that should have been easy to make in the first place, but no one in Ethiopia speaks much English, so simple questions receive impossible answers.

Lalibella, the self proclaimed holiest city in Ethiopia, sits atop a tall hill in Ethiopian highlands and is home to the famous Coptic churches that are carved out of rock into the ground. They are quite magnificent feats of architecture and have been around for ------- years. They are also popular tourist attractions at this point. You buy a ticket that allows you access in two different compounds of churches and one more that stands alone. It's by far the most white people Matt and I have seen in quite some time as there really are none in southern Ethiopia or rural Kenya.


In the first church we entered, a holy lookin' dude was standing in a most holy and picturesque manner. Standing tall with his robe and staff with a solemn and serious look on his face, a group of older Europeans stood staring, listening to their guide and snapping pictures. Matt and I walked around for a couple of minutes looking at mosaics and holy junk when the holy dude said something in an aggravated voice to me in Amharic and gestured to my feat. He then said aggravated, "Out, out!" and gestured for us to leave immediately. This is how we found out you were supposed to take of your shoes to enter the churches. This is also the first church I have ever been kicked out of, a fact that I can't help but be a little proud of. Needless to say we took our shoes off for the remaining holy places.


As I pass holy people they often say things in Amharic. I often reply with the most holy thing I can think of in English, a phrase from Saint Garth and Saint Wayne, a saying that embodies American culture as best as I know to do, "Party on." The men, and they are never women, nod in agreement and it is clear we have a mutual understanding of one another. "Yes...party on my child."


After Lalibella, we reluctantly get back on a bus and head for Gondar one of the oldest cities in Ethiopia, the original capital before Addis Ababa. Gondar is home to a castle that dates back to the 17th century, in which we explored the following day of our arrival. We began the day with a mouthful of khat (chat), a local plant that is popular in Ethiopia and is chewed to get a relaxing high from. It is considered a narcotic and Matt and I thought it only appropriate to experience the culture of Ethiopia more fully and try some for ourselves. As we discovered khat takes a lot of effort to get high from and the high you get is hardly recognizable. You must chew the plant and then keep in in your cheek sucking on the juice and swallowing. This must be done this for many hours and only after a couple hours, you feel slightly relaxed and almost feel somewhat of a buzz. It's hard to tell how much of a buzz you really have as you are hoping and waiting for one for so long, it seems as though your mind might be playing tricks on you. We kept adding more and more khat to our mouths trying as best as we knew to get something out of the plant. Not much came.

Disappointed from our attempts to experience a different cultures narcotic of choice, we thought it wise to each take a hydrocodone to help mitigate the lack of effects from khat and all of the effort we had put into trying to catch a buzz. Afterwards we headed out of the hotel to go grab a beer. Within less than a minute, as if by some divine coincidence of events, we were approached by a man who asked us if we like "rasta cigarettes". I said, "well yes I do enjoy a rasta cigarette from time to time". He then advised us to go sit and grab a machiato and he would run and grab said rasta cigarettes. We sat sipping our coffee and the man showed back up within a few minutes. We then ran back to the hotel and enjoyed the holy rasta medicine and went back out to go grab a beer. Now, finally, we were able to catch a buzz and a buzz we got. With a cocktail of caffeine, alcohol, khat, THC, Codeine and nicotine, we were able to enjoy the cultural tradition of chewing khat. Ahhh yes...khat. Yes...khat is good. Culture...yes...culture is good.

4 comments:

  1. Sounds like you are feeling very "COMFORTABLE" in your environment! Perhaps khat is more like "chew" here. Men do claim to get some sort of high from it. Funny story at the churches. Would make a good movie. But seriously, glad you were not beaten or something for disrespect. Be careful you hoodlums you! Get home safe!

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  2. Are the 3 men you are pictured drinking coffee with the ones who bought your bikes? What is the temp there? You are all wearing jackets.

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    1. Yes the guy on the left bought them, the guy in the middle knew the guy and the guy on the right was one of their friends. The guy had a few friends hanging out I assume to make sure everything went ok. -Sam

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    2. Yes the guy on the left bought them, the guy in the middle knew the guy and the guy on the right was one of their friends. The guy had a few friends hanging out I assume to make sure everything went ok. -Sam

      Delete