More from Addia Ababa - 8th November

It is mid-November and I have not done any blog-work for ages. I just assumed that people are bored with my inactivity and happy state of enjoying Addis. On the other hand, some have asked for more info. So for those of you who might be wandering about my progress……?

After visiting the major tourist sites in 4 towns in the north of Ethiopia, I wrote a report about it. It is very negative but has had the desired effect and I have been asked to discuss it at meetings and to lecture to some of the northern guides when I am next there. Because I am so very self-centred and thick-skinned, I think I have had the nouse to say what many might think, but may be too timid to express. On the other hand, I know that not much will change, despite this flurry of interest. Bureaucracy reigns supreme. Every time I try to do something where I need ‘permission’, it is a very long-winded and complicated process. As an example, let me tell you about the effort made to get a complimentary entrance to the rock-hewn churches of Lalibele. Of course I can pay, but it was a matter of principle that I wanted to establish with the church authorities that Guides should have free access because they are learning and can only present a site if they have personally seen it. Naturally they will be out of pocket if they had to pay at every site, so there is an international understanding and cooperation between guiding organizations to ensure this free entry. The church controls the 11 churches in Lalibele and they have recently increased the entrance fee from 100 to 200Birr. I was slowly, through interviews with various persons, finally directed to the main priest in charge. My Guide was quite in awe as he himself had never been allowed into these elevated premises. The man in question sat on a large chair covered in a colourful carpet and in front of him was an enormous table, similarly covered. He wore all the trappings of his office and there was much bowing and scraping from the assembled priests/deacons. I stated my case and produced the relevant letter from the Catering and Tourism Training Institute which had served me well at other sites. It was translated and no amount of ‘arguing’ my case would soften the Priest’s refusal to ‘cooperate’. He finally requested a photocopy of the letter and said that, when I return in December, he would allow me free entry. But this is just formality and the point was lost. However, the incident which did not endear me to him and his ‘authority’ was that, during the interview, he picked his nose and ate the contents.

Apart from that report which is still being circulated, I have personally visited all the 11 museums in Addis and compiled a summary of their entry charges, hours and location. I had asked the students to help with this, but found that their information was patchy or contradictory or wrong. Am trying to get this information published in the two local monthly tourist magazines (one free and the other on sale). Today I was delighted to see the first–ever copy of The Big Issue Addis. It is the 3Birr magazine sold by the homeless and jobless who can earn money from selling the magazines. It has been a great success in the rest of the world and I thoroughly support this venture. So will try to find a copy and send off the Museum information to them too.

You cannot imagine the joy I am getting from compiling a jigsaw puzzle! OK, I do not like the large patches of blue sky, but otherwise it has caused quite a stir when the locals look at my effort and marvel at the result. There is a large table in the entrance room in the office, but after a couple of days, I had to remove initial puzzle-completing exercises because it was regarded as too ‘untidy’ for visitors to see. They have a vase of flowers instead and are pleased with that although no-one had ever thought of having flowers before.

It is not really possible to use the office internet (one slow dial-up line used by the Director), so I have to go to cafes and am generally too lazy after work to seek out the less expensive ones. Below my room, is a small internet café which is open 24 hours a day. They charge a lot, but it is handy. The young man, xxxxxxxxx who does the night shift is actually homeless and sleeps amongst the computers with his sleeping bag if not needed by frantic foreigners late at night wanting to process their photos or write home before setting off on the next exciting adventure with backpack and Tourist Guidebook. One day I went down at 4.30 am, hoping to have faster-than-normal connection and he was still awake with a British lady working on the computer who obviously did not need sleep… He is highly intelligent and just desperate for a decent job, which is non-existent in this country unless you know somebody.

Xxxxxxx was interested in hearing me talk about a newly-opened, small organic food processing venture I had visited. They were having an ‘open day’ brunch last Sunday and I invited him to accompany me. The whole concept of organic food is very alien to most Ethiopians and it was a revelation to him to find out how one’s food intake affected one’s performance. However, I do think that most Ethiopians still eat very well, but the government is trying to persuade the farmers to use fertilizers and pesticides. This will have a devastating effect on production. Yes, larger crops, but soil degradation after centuries of subsistence farming will change their ultimate production at a risk to their future health, I maintain. Co-incidentally, when in the Hilton for the weekly Bridge playing, there was a large conference about Striga, the plant that wraps itself around the roots of maize and sorghum, thus depleting the ‘host’ of nutrients. This is now a very serious problem in Africa. I first heard about Striga at the Chelsea Flower Show last year. They showed how one could plant something else next to the maize to attract the weed away and create extra fodder as well. It intrigued me and I tried to find out if I could volunteer with the Kenya researchers. But they never replied to my emails and I now have another interest. The need to do farming in a less harmful way is still a big concern of mine. One of the topics I had selected for the students to study was ‘agriculture’. The student who presented his report, was very much in favour of using fertilizers because it comes from the First World and he has no doubt absorbed the Govt. propaganda (I suspect large conglomerates are pouring the stuff into the country). It is hard to let people understand that this messing about with age-old methods is actually going to do harm in the long run. At the organic food processing place, they spoke of the way insects like bees stay away from fertilized crops and how young children in the ‘developed world’ are now getting old peoples’ diseases like liver and kidney failure or diabetes. This from eating too much processed and messed-about food. We are really creating a world of dis-order.

Last Saturday I had arranged for a photographer from the Tourist Authority to meet me. With Fiker (my Saturday student guide), we went to a few properties which I thought needed recording.
!. The original Post Office has just been refurbished and the 100-year-old woodwork gleams. Because the Postal Museum intrigued me, I spent some time there and became friendly with the curator. He proudly tells me that there are about 200 people in Ethiopia who collect stamps. The previous day I persuaded him that he needed a photo or two of the new works to put next to his old ones. He agreed and helped me for an hour to try and get official permission to take a snap inside. In the end I gave up with the endless calls to various bureaucrats and the final answer of ‘in two weeks’ time’. The next day we walked into the old Post Office, told the staff what we were doing and took some snaps. Easy!
2. The next stop was a famous coffee house run, as I had been told, by the original Italian owner. It is always very full of customers and is apparently the place to be seen in because it costs a bit more and the opening hours are erratic. There is not even a sign above the door. When indulging there, I had seen an elderly man behind the counter and assumed this was him. I thought the place needs to be recorded before this link was lost. So we went in, had our cakes and coffee and only then were told that the man had died some time before and that his elderly wife still runs the place. She was away, but we will return. A link with the Italian Occupation of 60 years ago.
3. King Menelik 11 was a very progressive man and brought in many innovations over a hundred years ago when he established Addis Ababa as his new capital. He and his Queen were very friendly with a Swiss man called Alfred Ilg who was a photographer, installed roads, bridges and sewerage and helped develop the new railway line. The two wives were ‘best friends’ and in the Addis Ababa museum, there is a photo of them together outside Ilg’s house. This very dilapidated house is still recognizable, but is in the middle of a vast building site where the authorities are creating conglomerates of flats (or condominiums, as the locals call them). Although the house is ‘saved’, I have not yet found out who will be responsible for its renovation, but it seems that the Swiss Embassy has shown some interest. I introduced it to the students on one of our tours and then decided that photos need to be taken before it is too late. We arrived on the bustling site where it is intriguing to watch everything being done by hand and scores of men and women for example carrying sacks of concrete on their backs up the wooden-pole ramps which go up to five stories high. The ‘caretaker’ who lives in some of the rooms, came out, and although the manager of the site had given me permission to enter the previous day, this man now demanded money off me. I promised something and he let us in. The photographer had begun to understand my enthusiasm and no longer needed me to point out what to look at/for. He snapped away and could appreciate my insistence on a close-up of the original Chinese wallpaper of a century ago. We also managed to get photos of the Art Deco furniture of the Italian occupiers (had to lift up a mattress where a table acted as a bed) and then snapped the totally neglected place lived in by many people with their washing and cooking paraphernalia. It should be a good record of various stages in the life of the building. Actually, I proudly say that we saw probably the only bidet in Addis!
4. Back to my hotel which celebrates its 100 year’s existence next year. The Taitu Hotel was built to accommodate visiting dignitaries to the new city and the king and his wife, Queen Taitu, had it built and stayed in it to persuade visitors of the efficacy of paying for a bed and food. During the time of the Derg (‘committee’—Communist Regime of 1974-1991) when values were turned upside-down, the hotel was totally neglected and is now just managing to be kept going while the sale to a well-known businessman and owner of the opposition English newspaper awaits completion. But he is in jail and no one knows when he will be tried (the present Govt. has put most of the opposition in jail if not worse…). It needs recording before total disintegration and my trusty photographer, who had run out of film, said he will be back for more. It gave me a chance to see the more ‘luxurious’ rooms (e.g. Taitu’s bedroom) and the large ‘conference’ room in the roof space of which I was unaware.
The thing that I am proud of is that the photographer got the message and was enthusiastically photographing other old buildings which are rapidly being pulled down these days. Building work going on everywhere! I flatter him that the archives will one day mount an exhibition of his ground-breaking photos of 2006!

Cynthia, the Anthropologist, has just returned after being away in the furthest south for three weeks. She is here to finalize the publication of a Borana language dictionary. We had early-morning coffee together to catch up. She is vibrant with information, but, at the age of 70, has decided to leave Africa and retire to California. She has had enough of this country after a lifetime here. Her intimate knowledge of the remote tribes around the Omo River and beyond is being eroded by irresponsible tourism. The BBC started the rot a few years ago when they went to film some of these tribes and paid them impossibly large sums of money. Now, she says, not only the elders, but the young people as well are ending up as drunks. Their society is beginning to disintegrate and the markets, which used to sell only locally produced items, are now full of cheap tat. She had to travel in convoy to the remoter areas by the Sudanese border and says that life there is no longer ‘free’.

After having the above conversation with Cynthia, I went to have my visa extended As I had hung about for 2 hours the previous day and then had to leave because of a lecture, I was at the Immigration buildings at 8.30am, ready to get out soon! I already knew which rooms to go to to queue with the motley group of early-risers. But this knowledge did not help. My interview with an official finally started. I was 10 days too early for a visa. I tried to explain that I might be far away on the 18th and that I was trying to be a good citizen by renewing it earlier rather than past the expiry date. I would loose the ten days. Final. OK, but can I have an extension? How long? How long will you give? As long as you want. Can I have 4 months? No, just two. But that means that I will not be able to go on a trip I have already booked in February. Two months final. After muttering that it is not fair as I came with a 3-month visa and had expected the same again, I was told to go to another building to see the manager. By this time it was 11am. After 30 minutes of waiting with an official who could not understand what I was trying to say, I was told I can see the manager in 10 minutes. 15 minutes later I was told that he is in a meeting. Wait 10 minutes. Now told that he has gone to lunch and I must return at 1.30pm. My own lunch-date was coming up and I left. Maybe I shall return another day with lots of letters with stamps on them, pleading for an extension. There is nothing as magical as a rubber-stamp on a piece of paper to get things moving in Africa! But today was enough of the African experience. I went into a supermarket and indulged in yogurt, butter, brown bread and pickled gherkins – bought with the money reserved for the visa.