November 19: Went to the Nech Sar game park – south of the two rift valley lakes (if you google Lake Chomo we were on the south side of that. The drive was over the most awful roads of the trip yet, with it taking three hours to cover under 30 kilometres. We saw some zebras and some ibex, but other than that there weren’t any animals around. There have been some disagreements in regards to park management, and currently there is no management in place. There used to be giraffes, lions and other typical big game, but they have been hunted and driven out of the country into Kenya, which has a robust wildlife management program. After that drive, which was about six hours on the road, we headed up to H’Ossa, and the roads that on the way down were fairly rough were smooth in comparison on the way north.
November 20: We headed south again, retracing our path to go and a look at a coffee plantation. The security was quite tight, and after a lengthy conversation we were allowed onto the fenced farm, but were not allowed any pictures. The reason for their wariness is due to the big coffee dealer – like Nabob – who have used intimidation to halt the progress of Farm Cooperatives like the one that we saw. Instead of driving all the way back to Addis, we stopped in Nazaret where Aklilu has an old friend who owns a hotel. Tseguay, the hotel owner, started with five bucks in Vancouver at the age of 28 and after eight years of driving cab, had saved up enough to move back to Ethiopia and build a 48-room hotel.
November 21: Joline, Peg and I got up at 6AM and headed out with Tseguay and a friend of his to a natural hot springs about 30 minutes away. The Olympic sized swimming pool is about 28 degrees Celsius, and it was refreshing to just soak in it while Tseguay and his friend swam laps. There were a bunch of monkey around, and would come within a few feet of you if you pretended to have something in your hand. After the swim we headed back to the hotel and headed back to Addis. A British group had arrived, all Hope sponsors, and we had dinner with them at british-themed restaurant called The Cottage. Before dinner we had time to explore the city a bit, and we made some stops at two Coptic Churches. The first one we left quickly as there was a drunk woman who accosted us and started screaming. One of her fellow worshippers approached her and she turned and spat on him, which made us decide that it probably not worth of effort to reason with her. We also stopped by Kaldi’s Coffee, named after the Ethiopian shepherd boy who discovered coffee after his goats ate some beans and started acting strangely. It was modelled on Starbuck, everything from the look and colour to the recessed halogen lighting.
November 22: Headed out to Muna, an Ethiopian coffee house, where the four us enjoyed macchiatos and some pastries. I’m beginning to enjoy coffee, but with generous doses of sugar, and as Ethiopian coffee is considered to rank among the best in the world, I don’t see maintaining the habit in North America. We headed to the Ethiopian Museum of Anthropology where I was looking forward to seeing Lucy, one of the earliest humanoid skeletons. Unfortunately, she is currently on loan to a museum in Maryland, but there were other things of interest. It was interesting for the first 30 minutes or so, but after that we were looking at the door. In the afternoon we headed to the Mercado – I think I already mentioned that this is the largest outdoor market in Africa. We didn’t see all of it, and spent most of our time haggling with the merchants. As soon as they see ferenge (foreigners) prices go up 800-1000%. I got two pairs of shorts – one I tried on, and the other the woman said was the same size. She was eager to add to the sale, and when I tried on the second pair back at the hotel, it turned out they were about 6 inches too small at the waist. Oh well – both prices combined were still relatively cheap compared to the price for one pair of short back home.
November 23: The Great Ethiopian Run was today, and the gun went at 9AM. There were over 40,000 people registered, and with thousands more joining along the way, there ended up being and estimated 50,000 runners. I started with Peg and Joline but quickly lost them in the first few hundred meters. I positioned myself in the middle of the crush of people, and we hopped/walked the first kilometre en masse. I was a head taller than most of those around me and would regularly turn back to see the mass of people behind me – stretching back further than I could see. I never saw the beginning of the crowd except for the first 30 seconds, as those at the front, who must have been waiting there for over an hour to hold their coveted positions, sprinted off. I don’t know how the shoulder-to-shoulder national guards marking the start line stepped out of the way fast enough when the horn sounded, but I didn’t hear of anyone being hurt. I met up with Peg and Joline at about the 3 km mark, and we ran the rest of the way together. We ended up finishing in about an hour and fifteen, and with the number of people on the course it would have been harder to have done it any faster even if we wanted to.
After lunch at the hotel we headed out to the football stadium (soccer – we are not in North America) and paid the exorbitant price of 30 birr ( about 3 bucks ) to sit in the elite seats – padded chairs and shade. Some of the group elected to pay 3 birr to sit on the concrete steps in the sun, but eventually most of them upgraded their tickets and came to sit with us. We got our seats with about 20 minutes to go in the opening match, and then the main event started. It was Coffee vs. The Police – assumedly their sponsors – and the game, while played on a lousy field, was entertaining to watch. Part of the entertainment was the clear delineation in fan loyalty – some parts of the stands were standing room onl y, while other parts had lots of space available. These packed areas would erupt with singing and shouting as they all got to their feet when their team had a scoring opportunity or made strong defensive play.
In the evening, Peg, Ken and I hired a taxi and bombed around the city looking for a coffee ceremony. None was to be found, but one positive was that Yared, our driver, didn’t end his shift until seven the next morning (1 Ethiopian time) so I asked him to meet me outside the hotel at 6:30 AM to take me to the airport.
November 24: I head down to the curb outside the hotel at 6:30 AM and the doorman ushers me over to one of the four cabs waiting. He tosses my bag into the back seat, but before I get in I ask the driver the price of the fare to the airport. It’s 100 birr according to him, and I know he is cheating me, as Yared said he would do it for 60 birr – Yared is also probably cheating me, but just not as much. I shake my head at him, grab my bag out of the back seat to the sound of the doorman’s protestations and find Yared’s cab a couple of cars back. He brings me to the airport, and I pay him his 60 birr and head into the airport. I’ll skip the long and tedious serious of flight and layovers, and pick up a day later on the evening of the 25th.
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