85 - Indian teachers in Ethiopia - one of their kind - Ethiopian Travels - Blog Post no - 85

It is time to talk about Indian teachers in Addis Ababa. Indian teachers are recruited and selected by Global Placements, a placement agency in Hyderabad. As the placement company is in Hyderabad and as there is a conception that South Indian teachers are good at teaching, most teachers who land up in Ethiopia belong to the South Indian states of Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, Karnataka and Kerala.

Among the south Indian states, it was Andhra Pradesh that had the most teachers in Ethiopia followed by Tamil Nadu. There was always an undercurrent of competition between Andhra and Tamil teachers.

Most teachers got placed in the many new universities set up in all parts of Ethiopia in the early 2000s. Very few Indian teachers who come to Ethiopia can fathom the big ten that they would terribly miss: Home, Movies, Television, Sports, Speed (of everything; life, internet, fast cars), Indian News, Gossip, Festivals, Indian food and moderness. Indians become brawling babies when they realize that they or their state or India are important for the local population. Even the biggest event of India hardly warrants any excitement for the Ethiopians. Only a major catastrophe becomes news.

Ethiopians are fond of athletics and EPL (English Premiership League). And unfortunately India does not do well in neither. I remember when I was almost waylaid by our silent, placid and laid back assistant librarian of PEDA (Circa August 2003). He was breathless “Dr. Aneel” he was gasping “Do you know Anju Bobby?”. “No, is she a new Indian teacher, I don’t know. Newly arrived is it?!!”. “NO, NO” he was horrified. “I am talking about the FAMOUS INDIAN, ANJU BOBBY!!!!”. I was non plussed, the only Christian Indian teacher’s name I knew was Clara Gladys my colleague from Accounting department, but he knew Clara very well himself.

Our Assistant librarian was almost in tears “Dr. Aneel” he was wailing now “I need her phone number”. I took him to the Cafeteria. Almost sobbing into his coffee he told me his heart-rendering tale. I believe he was watching the live telecast of the World Athletic Championship being held in Paris. He was obviously enjoying his countrymen and women doing well.

Suddenly the long jump competition started. His eyes widened when he saw a young and very beautiful girl competing. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw the name of the country. It was INDIA. He almost jumped out of his chair. ‘An Indian and doing well in Athletics’. He could neither believe nor could digest the fact.

That Indian who stole his heart was Anju Bobby who was competing in the long jump. “Indian girl and she was really doing very well” he added with contempt!

Our Assistant librarian was smitten by the nubile Indian and was head over heels in love.  I was told in tears that for the next one hour our man was willing Anju Bobby with his heart to win and was greatly relieved when she bagged the bronze medal.

Incidentally that was the first medal for India in any world athletic championship. The assistant librarian was pleading “She is a fellow Indian, can’t you give me her E-mail address and her phone number?”. I was horrified. I assured him “I don’t know Anju Bobby personally and I don’t have her phone number nor her E-mail address”. As I bet a hasty retreat I said to myself “what would you do if you knew that Anju Bobby is married and that her husband too is an athlete and his name is George”. I let the man live in his own dreams. Why should I shatter a love smitten heart?

A place that has some real semblance of an attractive foreign assignment is getting placed in Addis Ababa University. Of course there is Defence Training Institute in Addis Ababa but there too the competition is very stiff. Only experienced university professors with doctorates have a chance to get a placement.

Indians in Addis Ababa tend to be snooty and full of airs. Padma warmly greeted an Indian lady “Namaste” in Bole supermarket. The lady recoiled as if she was shot. She took off and we all watched her with open mouths. With a little bit of training this Indian lady could make it to the Indian team in the 100 metres dash at the Olympics.

Ahmed sir who was with us bellowed in laughter. “Anil Sir” he remarked “Addis Indians are all like her. They think if they speak to us, we would ask some favours, like requesting whether we could stay at their homes, help us get some information from the Indian school or worse if they could help in getting an extension of our contract”.

He went on to add. In some cases, Indian teachers have fought and I mean literally. There was a case of an Indian teacher who had water coming from the roof of his bathroom. The tenant on the top floor too was an Indian. And both the Indians came to blows. Very sad and it left a bad taste in the mouth.

Most Indian teachers in Addis live in fear that they would not get an extension and this leaves them mentally scarred. They would not speak to other Indian teachers and would bitch like housewives, vicious and full of malefic intentions.

 So it was a shock when the news reached the Addis Ababa teachers when they came to know that Bahirdar University teachers from POLY, PEDA and community college came together and hosted a party that too for the Ethiopian University officials on the 31^st of December 2002.

“You mean they all came together (8^th wonder of the world)!” was the incredulous response “and hosted a party for the Ethiopians (9^th wonder of the world)”. Soon the Internet was buzzing. The teachers in other universities were asked whether a similar year-end party was held at their place.

After detailed investigation it finally dawned on Addis teachers that the BDU Indians had stolen a march over them. Not only did they unite but hosted a party for the Ethiopians. The Bahirdar Indian teaching community was quickly dubbed “The Best Indian Teaching Community in Ethiopia’. We were extremely proud to win the title.

Indians are starved for fresh vegetables in Ethiopia. The only ones we get in Bahirdar were Onion, tomato, Potato, Cabbage and Carrot. In Addis Ababa vegetables like brinjal (eggplant), Okra, beans, Donda (scarlet gourd), bottle gourd were available. But initially they were not available at supermarkets and an enterprising Ethiopian would source them from nearby farms and sell it on every Saturday morning. He would come to the apartment were the Indians stayed and sell the vegetables at very reasonable prices.

In the first few weeks everything worked smoothly. Indians took this process as a normal phenomenon. Very soon they realized that they were enjoying the forbidden fruits. As long as no one was getting the vegetables there was a longing and feeling of missing something. As soon as everyone was getting the same precious things, there was a burning in the heart. “How can someone else enjoy what I am enjoying and that too without any pain”.  

The Indian Jugaad kicked in and the Indian teachers hit upon a dubious method of manipulating demand and supply. (My only hope is that no one had written a research article and got it published in a reputed journal of Economics).

The next Saturday the mobile vegetable vendor was shocked to see Indians waiting with huge shopping baskets. They fell like hungry vultures and took as many vegetables as they could pack in their shopping baskets.

The Ethiopian vegetable vendor was nonplussed. “Why are they buying so much?” as he saw each man and lady packing as much as five to 10 kgs of each vegetable. He knew by experience that their average consumption was hardly kilo/week.

The poor naive guy. He must have thought that the Indians are buying in bulk so that they could sell it on the side. ‘Nothing like it Sir!!!!!!!!’. They  were  buying  in  bulk  so that they could deny the other Indians from laying hand on the precious vegetables. By  denying fellow Indians vegetables, the ones that have got the vegetables felt a sense of achievement and satisfaction.

This very soon caught on and it was a madhouse and after some time the entire exercise was given up by the frightened vegetable vendor. Vegetables are available now in the supermarkets and the Ethiopians charge a hefty premium. They now know that Indians are desperate for their weekly rations of vegetables.

Similar was the case with tamarind. Ethiopians did not use tamarind. It was not part of their cuisine. Till the early 2000 tamarind trees would grow wild and Indians could get as much of the tamarind fruit as they wanted. But the greed got better of us. Some enterprising Indians started cutting and spoiling the huge tamarind trees. This was noticed by the locals and presto before we knew the huge tamarind trees disappeared from plain sight and tamarind was not free and it had to be bought.

May be missing home, is what that leads Indians to act differently. We had the case of an Indian teacher who would walk as many as five kilometres to buy Nyla cigarettes as they were available for 15 centimes less. 15 centimes work out to less than a rupee, exactly 75 paise to be exact. To save 75 paisa this teacher would walk five kilometres! I told Padma “he would get exhausted by the time he reaches the shop and I am sure he has a shai costing at least 20 centimes!”. He was saving 75 paisa and spending a rupee!

We had a POLY teacher who stayed in a house opposite to our own. One Sunday he came to my house and asked Padma if she could tell a recipe to cook Fish eyes. Padma was totally stunned. Very naively she asked “sir, what fish eyes. I only know about the name Meenakshi (Eyes like a fish) but a dish only with fish eyes. I am not aware”. The teacher was adamant. He wanted to know how to cook fish eyes.

He told me that there was a market near POLY where fish was sold. Usually the eyes, the scales and the body organs are removed and the clean fish is handed over to the customer. Our brilliant teacher found out that fish eyes could be had for gratis (free). He wanted to get these, make a dish and save money. Padma had to be revived with the help of smelling salts!!!

Another very exalted Indian teacher dropped in. He told me “Anil Saab, I am told that University officials want to award foreigners who did exemplary social service and I want to apply for the award”.

Naïve as I was, I beamed in happiness “sir, that is great news, what social service have you done?”. “Kya Anil Sir, aap bhi” he added “I am giving my maid 100 birr a month and because of me her family is  surviving. Where else can there be a better example of social service”. I was so shocked that even Pranav and sahithi’s best antics could not bring me out of the stupor.

It is not my claim that all Indians behave this way throughout the world. I have served in many other countries and found that Indian behaviour is the same. They behave the way they behave in India and these other foreign countries had huge Indian population.

The case in Ethiopia was different. The Population of Indians in entire Ethiopia would not cross a couple of thousands. There were very few Indians and this led to inbreeding in thinking and excess socialization. “Proximity breeds contempt’. The extreme intimacy leads to problems. And the lack of alternatives for food complicates the situation and examples like the ones cited above happen.

84 - Addis Ababa Lion Zoo - Sidist Kilo, Ethiopian Journey, Blog Post no - 84.

Mathematics examination got over and next day was off for Pranav as he was granted an exemption from writing the hindi exam. He would have to take both 2 and 3^rd grade hindi exams in 2004.  Our family and Pradeep walked down from Arat Kilo to Amist Kilo.

We saw an imposing gate and peeped in to have a sight of Addis Ababa University, one of the most premier universities in Ethiopia. We did not venture in as we were eager to see one of the most popular Addis Ababa’s prime attractions -  Addis Ababa’s Lion Zoo, located in Sidist Kilo.

The Lion Zoo was established by Emperor Haile Selassie in the year 1948. It had Apes, Lesser Kudus, eagles and tortoises but the main attraction that drew all the visitors with a magnetic pull – to see the king of the African jungle, Lion from a close quarter.

Several lions, Lionesses and cubs were kept in Zoo but in cages. There was not enough space to house them in their natural habitat and our heart went out to the majestic beasts who were caged. They frankly appeared dejected and bored with the charade of visitors who would stand in front of the cages jeer, mock and call names.

The lion enclosure was a circular structure that had small cages for individual lions and Lionesses. Lion cubs were segregated and carefully nurtured in a smaller cage that they had exclusively for themselves. Once they grow up they would have a cage of their own.  The circular structure had an inner and an outer railing. There was enough space between the lions and the visitors. The inner circle allowed the keepers and veterinary doctors to access the lions as and when needed.

There was a Beautiful garden with lush green trees. A children play area with slides, merry go around, swings and seesaw was attracting the kids.

The lions kept in the Zoo were genetically similar to wild lions found in Cameroon and Chad. They looked like the Indian lions except that they had dark black manes. This was noticed by our two and half year ticking time bomb, Sai Sahithi. She looked at the Lions solemnly and asked, “Anna, why are the Addis Ababa Lions’ mane black unlike Indian Lions whose mane is brown?”.

Our resident professor Pranav Pratheek pondered and answered “hmmm, that’s a good question, Sahithi. Let me tell you. You see, we Indians are brown and that is why Indian Lions manes are dark brown and as Ethiopian lions belong to Africa and as Africans are black, their Lions’ mane too is dark black”. His eloquence and matter of fact smartness stunned us all.

Pranav had a sleeve up his arm, “Tell me Sahithi, why is that the lions mane is matted and dirty?”. Sahithi did not even pause for a second, “That’s easy Anna. Addis Ababa Zoo has ran out of its supply of shampoo. Once they get shampoo, each and every lion would get a shampoo bath”. All of us burst out in laughter much to the annoyance of the dozing lions.

The sight of the majestic lions bowing down their heads like matronly women in beauty parlour and getting their hair shampooed obediently flashed in our mind. Even today that mental image of rows of lions having shampoo bath and later getting their mane air dried remains etched in my mind.

The sky was overcast and the cool weather stimulated the lions. They became playful and started jumping around. Their jumping was the trigger. The crowds started cheering them on and soon all the lions were jumping and roaring. The skies opened up and it started raining. The downpour caught us unawares and we ran to the play area but there was no place to hide. We got drenched.  

All this was being recorded by a Videographer who had people assisting him with the film shoot. We were about to leave when one of the videographer’s assistant rushed towards us “Would you like to see the lions getting fed?”. We jumped at the offer. The keepers entered the inner circle and seeing the mutton slabs the lions got excited. The keeper would offer the meat through the bars and the lions would grab the meat and retreat inside. It was a gruesome yet riveting to watch.

This time the videographer himself approached us. They were from ETV (Ethiopian Television). They requested us to give some video bits that they could use. They were making a documentary about Addis Ababa’s Lion Zoo and wanted insights from the visitors especially foreigners.

I went back and said jauntily “ETV wants to interview us” “What!! ETV!! How come ETV has come to Ethiopia. Is Addis Ababa’s Lion Zoo so famous?” Pranav was shocked beyond belief. Then it struck me, Pranav thought ETV meant Eenadu Television the famous Telugu television channel in India and not Ethiopian Television.

I spoke first. I said “Addis Ababa’s Lion Zoo is very good, but I think that more animals should be added and children would love new animals, especially monkeys. If the government allots more land and allows the lions to roam freely, it would add to the drama. A safari too can be planned. That would make the Zoo more interesting”. Pradeep also spoke, he said, “It should be maintained properly”.

Pranav was on pins and needles, till he was given a chance to speak, he said “It is very good but the lion cubs are given a very small cage. They should be given a bigger cage” Sahithi added “I liked it very much”.

83 - Exams Start – Tree Top Bakery - Bole Road – Tomato Pizza – Avocado Juice – Ethiopian Journey – Blog Post – 83

We were allocated a single room on the 4^th floor. Our room had a window facing a by-lane. It was a compact Ultra-modern room with comfy beds and decent décor and with a spectacular view. It was quite apparent that the by-lane was not as upmarket as the Arat Kilo- Piazza road.

We could see small shops and locals wiling away their time. They were wiry thin and wore the uniform of the world – T shirt and Jeans. Most sported a coat or a jacket to protect themselves from the nippy Addis Ababa weather. 

The T-shirts had the colours of EPL clubs that they belonged to; Manchester United, Liverpool and Arsenal. I could clearly make out images of Samuel Eto, Thierry Henry, Didier Drogba and other football legends of that time on their T-shirts.

Also visible was a small bar and restaurant. The loud noise made by the drunk and brawling clientele wafted through the huge glass window. The bar and restaurant had dim lighting. The effect of the haves (the Tourist hotel clientele) and have Nots (the local Ethiopians) was dramatized by the dim light emitted by the low wattage bulbs that adorned the by-lane.  

Most star hotels insulate themselves from reality and pretend to be islands of opulence, luxury and indulgence. They don’t want their customers to feel, even a little bit of discomfort. The experience needs to be as smooth as silk. But what we were noticing was extra ordinary! We were peeping into the lives of normal middle class Ethiopians and we were ensconced in one of the best hotels of Addis Ababa!  

Even though it was April, it was quite cold and luckily for us Tourist hotel provided warm blankets. There were no fans or an air conditioner. “Don’t worry” Bahirdar University Vice President’s words rang in my ears “the entire country is air conditioned”. Nights can be chilly in Addis Ababa.

Right opposite Tourist hotel was Tree Top Bakery, a small bakery on the first floor of a commercial building. It served decent Tomato Pizzas. Say Pizza and most would think of a sinfully thick Pizza with cheese literally dripping from the sides. Ethiopian Pizza, rather Tree Top Bakery’s Pizza is an ultra-dieters delight. It is almost the size of an Indian Poori with the tiniest of a tomato base smeared on it and ABSOLUTELY NO CHEESE. It was cheese less!  It was very reasonably priced though, only 3 birr.

The first time it was served, Pranav’s eyes opened wide. In all Earnesty and seriousness he finished one and said “Amma, the starter was nice but where is the Pizza?”. He almost fell off the high stool when he was told that it was the main dish and not a starter. Just to pacify him, we bought him another TOMATO PIZZA.

Tree Top Bakery also served Avocado juice, the juice to die for! Customers having Avocado juice in Ethiopia are spoiled!  Avocado juice is so thick that it can’t be drunk like the ‘thin as water’, Indian fruit juices. Indian fruit juices are mostly water and milk based and a little part of the banana, pineapple, apple or avocado is thrown in, to give the correct colour to the fruit juice.

Back in 2003, Ethiopians were innocent and not market savvy. The avocado juice was served in a huge mug and a spoon was provided. We had to eat the FRUIT JUICE. Avocado juice in Ethiopia was one of the most filling and appetite inhibiting fruit drink that I have tasted in the world.

The next day the English exam started at 0830 a.m. in the morning. Pranav was out by 1030 a.m. and said that he fared well in the examination. We did not want to return to Tourist hotel and get cooped up in the room. Azaz Ahmed sir had a brain wave. He suggested that we all go down to Bole Road.

Bole road for, Ethiopians is just like what M. G road is for Bangalore, Madhapur is for Hyderabad, T. Nagar is for Chennai and Connaught Place is for New Delhi. It was the most posh area of Addis Ababa and housed the corporate headquarters of Ethiopian companies. It also housed the embassies of different countries.

Even in 2003, Bole offered impressive sights. On display were Tall skyscrapers, wide roads, expensive and fast cars. Bole had neat promenades, paved roads, hep and svelte Ethiopians and equally fashionable foreigners. It had different hotels offering world cuisines, including Sangam the flag bearer of Indian food in Addis Ababa.

Started in 1973, Sangam served the needs of Indians and Indian cuisine loving foreigners. It served a piece of India! Sangam restaurant closed last year in its earlier premises which was initially owned by Princess Tenagnework, daughter of Emperor Haileselasse. and opened in a new location in Jomo Kenyatta Street. Many Indian teachers’ memories of Addis Ababa are inseparably linked to the Iconic Indian restaurant, Sangam.

Things were quite expensive in Bole road. We roamed the streets and were sauntering along when a scream from Pranav almost shattered our ear-drums “LOOK, LOOK, LOOK, Amma” he was overcome with emotion “ICE CREAM PARLOUR”. Ice-creams are taken for granted by any typical eight-year-old. But not for Pranav. He last tasted regular ice-cream in India. Bahirdar was totally devoid of ice-creams. Padma made ice-cream at home but they did not have neither the smooth texture nor and the flavour/taste of commercially available ice-cream.

We made a pit stop and had ice-creams. Pranav and Sahithi devoured ice-creams, one too many to my comfort. I told myself “what the heck, let them have as many as they can. They will again have ice cream only next year when we would make our annual pilgrimage to Addis Ababa”.

We bought water melon. That night we had sumptuous water melon at Tourist Hotel. Padma was impressed with Addis Ababa. She said “I wish that you get an extension of contract and get a posting in Addis Ababa”. She went on to add “Addis Ababa is nice. Great place to live, has an Indian school and is only five and a half hours away from Mumbai by flight”.   

82 - 4 kilos, 5 kilos and 6 kilos, 'Arat Kilo, Amist Kilo and Sedist Kilo' the poplar hangouts of Addis Ababa - Ethiopian Journey - Blog Post no - 82.

Arat Kilo to Piazza Video 

The next day was 17th March and it was the Indian festival, Holi. We tend to take things for granted when they are easily accessible and yearn for them once they are not. One might have all the money in the world but we can’t get the gaiety, colour and drama of an Indian festival anywhere outside India. 

NRIs might celebrate Indian festivals with pomp, glory, show of class and with richness but with no soul. Indian festivals have to be celebrated in India, period. Holi is celebrated in the Indian Embassy but we were not really in the mood. We were anxious to see with our own eyes Pranav and sahithi’s school for the next four years. 

Early morning Cuppa, Addis Ababa

Mr. Pradeep arrived sharp at 08:00 a.m. and his early arrival caught us napping. Padma and the kids were not ready. Pradeep and me went out to have Shai (tea). Addis Ababa looked like a scene out of an African paradise. Misty, surrounded by mountains and mysterious low hanging clouds that seemed to rub and wanted to envelop us in their cold embrace. Very few street side venders were up and about.  We had to walk quite a distance before we could get a cup of Shai. 

Early morning scene, Addis Ababa

Addis Ababa the capital of Africa as it proudly calls itself is a truly global city. Citizens of Addis are curious about Indians but mostly we were ignored. Some Ethiopians do give a shy smile and some brave hearts do come and shake hands and say “Thank you, Indians are great teachers. My mathematics teacher was from India and he was a wonderful teacher”. Our chest would swell in pride at their generous praise. 

We returned and waiting at the entrance of our room tapping her feet impatiently was Ms. SAHITHI. Drawing up to her full height that her two-and-a-half-year frame could allow, she announced tartly “We are ready and waiting for you.”. I was shell shocked. We did not teach her to speak in English. Seeing her annoyance and pert manner, Pradeep sir was totally taken by surprise. He complimented us on our children’s upbringing. 

Blue and white Line Taxis 

We took the blue and white sharing cabs that were quite popular in Addis Ababa. These beaten up cabs afforded a decent and cheap form of intra city travel. The local city buses were legendary. The cost of travel was dead cheap but travellers are packed to the gills and things can get claustrophobic. We were told that even breathing can become quite tough in peak time travel. The threat of deft pick pocketers getting busy picking our wallets was always lurking in the back of our minds.  One van took us to Arat Kilo and another took us to Piazza. 

Crowded City Buses 

We had to walk hundred yards before the Indian School appeared. First look was quite disappointing. It was an old building. It had a sign on the arch above the gate ‘Indian National School, Addis Ababa, established in the year 1947’, written both in English and in Amharic. This is the school that served the educational needs of Indian and Ethiopian students too. If it was not for the Indian school not many of the Indian families would even, consider coming to Ethiopia. It was the Life-line for Indian children to pursue CBSE education and that too from a foreign country. 

The school was closed but the examination schedule was pasted on the notice board. English on the 18th of March, Hindi on 19th, Mathematics on 20th, Social on 21st and finally Science on the 22nd. Written quite clearly and in big font and size was the examination fee. “External students have to pay examination fee of 140 birr (Rs seven hundred)”. 

Arat Kilo

Pradeep could not hold it any further. He blurted out “Anil Ji, I wanted to ask you. Any particular reason for staying at Bel-Air?”. “Not really sir” was my surprised reply “I find it quite inconvenient and cut off. Away from even small restaurants and shops. The only saving grace is that they allow us to cook”. 

Arat Klo 

“Oh, Oh” Pradeep gave a sympathetic nod “you guys can’t survive without rice”. Padma was offended “not really sir. We can happily eat Injira” “In that case, madam, let us try out Tourist hotel”

We got into a taxi and got off at Arat Kilo. Arat Kilo is Meyazia 27 Square, a square in Addis Ababa as famous as the Times Square, New York. In its centre is the famous monument, commemorating Ethiopia's liberation from Italy. 

Due to its proximity to the Menelik Palace, residence of the Prime Minister of Ethiopia, and the Ethiopian Parliament Building, Arat Kilo is one of the most popular tourist spots of Addis Ababa. 

Arat kilo was buzzing with action. Small shops all-around and hundreds and hundreds of shoe shine boys merrily going about their business. On one side were Ministry of Education’s main offices and bang next to it was TOURIST HOTEL. 

Tourist Hotel, Arat kilo

We went inside and were shocked. The reception area was buzzing with Indians. We could spot at least 3 or 4 Indian families and trailing in their wake were school going children. It was quite clear that TOURIST HOTEL was the preferred destination for Indian teachers in Ethiopia.  

The receptionist gave a beaming smile and apparently she knew Pradeep quite well. “Yes sir, we do have a single room and possibly you might even get a double room by tomorrow”. Seeing our somewhat puzzled faces, she triumphantly added “our restaurant serves, Indian food”. 

“That is fine”, I responded “Sintenam”. The lady did a double take. She immediately became a little less patronizing. My Sintenam caught her in the solar plexus. “30-birr sir” she humbly replied “and 45 for a double room”. 

We welcomed her offer. We were paying 70 birr in Bel-Air and that too in a remote location. We liked tourist hotel. It was modern and looked well organized. Yes, in 2003 it had common restrooms but unlike Indian restrooms, the restrooms at Tourist hotel were quite modern and well maintained. We quickly paid a day’s advance and took possession of precious single room. 

Bel-Air Hotel, Bucket and Mug, Titanic Struggle - Ethiopian journey, Blog Post no - 81.

The day was mildly sunny and Bahirdar's  Ginbot Haya Airport was getting basked in it. The surly and suspicious looking guards let us in. We were in for a shock of our life. We had not noticed at the time of our arrival in November 2002, the Airport was eeriecally quiet.

Ginbot Haya would get the first prize among the quietest Airports of the world. Two reasons for the quietness, it was a Sunday and very few flights landed and took off.

It looked just like a typical African airport. Functional yet rudimentary. We had experience of the bustling and ever busy Hyderabad and Mumbai Airports and it was quite strange to wait in an Airport like Ginbot Haya with very few fellow passengers.

The Airport staff was multi skilled and performed multiple activities. The personnel who gave us the boarding passes, doubled as boarding pass checkers at the aeroplane boarding point. One of them became the purser of the flight.

Pranav and Sahithi had a ball playing in the almost deserted Airport. Sahithi got a small injury and got herself a medal – a tiny weeny Johnson and Johnson band aid strip that she proudly adorned. She was as happy as a soldier who poses off his war time injuries! 

The flight to Addis was uneventful and the flight landed at Bole Airport. In November 2002 we landed at the old Airport. The old Airport was a Haile Selassie era Airport. Old and dated. 

The new airport or Bole International Airport was swank and ultra-modern. Glass fronted with attractive Ethiopian motifs, paintings and long flowing, colourful and artistic cloth draped from the ceiling, it was a sight to behold! We were astonished. It was a grand looking airport that could be pitted against any other airport in the looks and the grandeur department.

We stepped out and the bracing Addis Ababa air hit us right in the face. We remembered “Addis Ababa is the 4^th highest capital in the world”. Unlike Hyderabad and Mumbai, where cab drivers scoop down on passengers like vultures scooping down on unsuspecting rabbits, Addis Ababa cab drivers were mostly placid and laid back.

We walked up to the taxi stand and negotiated with the taxi driver. Our destination, Bel-Air hotel. The driver was smart and could converse in English. We agreed for a price of 80 birr (Rs 400/-) and off we went.

Bel Air was on the queen Elizabeth road and it was on a hillock. The scenery was breath taking. The view could have been out of any well-known hill station from India. We were given a double room and we paid 70 birr (Rs 350/-). It was a fair deal. It was bang next to the Indian Embassy. Our chests swelled in pride seeing the Indian tricolour fluttering away in the bracing Addis Ababa weather.

The door had a lock that would not close. The room was big but the bathroom was bigger. Pranav’s mouth opened by a foot “why such a big bath room?” “I don’t know” I replied. Even though the bath room was big there was no bucket or a mug. Buckets and mugs, it seemed were not on as far as Ethiopian hotels were concerned. I went down to the reception and asked for a bucket and a mug.

I was given the LOOK. The Ethiopian look is the look that they give the foreigners when they don’t understand or comprehend.  It is the look that only the sufferers like us understand. “BUCKET???” the lady at the reception parroted.

She looked at me like a school teacher looks at a dim-witted student. “What is a bucket?”

I was desperate. I knew only the word bucket and no other synonyms. I tried telling and even drew the picture. She studied the picture with the utmost concentration. “1/5” she must have muttered to herself at my drawing skills. She looked at the picture of the bucket and gave a nod. It was hopeless, she could not comprehend.

I was at my wits end. A helpful Ethiopian came to my rescue. After what looked like an interrogation, the friendly Ethiopian’s face lit up. He said something in Amharic to the receptionist.

The lady at the reception gave me a withering look that would have burned lesser mortals. “So you were looking for a Balidi!! “why can’t you simply say so?” she said incredulously.  

After 10 minutes of anxious waiting a quite beaten up bucket arrived. “Eureka” I mentally shouted and grabbed it. I was clinging on to it just like a frightened mountain climber clings on to a tree wine for survival. The bucket was the most important thing as far as we were concerned. Inspite of our best efforts none could understand the concept of a mug. A two litre mineral water bottle was cut at the neck and that became our mug!!! 

We went out in the evening and bought kerosene (we had brought the kerosene stove from Bahirdar), rice, red gram, cooking oil, sugar, salt, candles, match box and washing soap. We returned to Bel-Air. The telephone in the room chimed. “A call for Mr. Aneel” the clipped voice announced. I had to go to the reception area to take the call. Padma wanted to shut the door and lock it. The bolt would not shut. With a herculean effort and great Indian jugaad Padma managed to close the door and bolt it.

The call was from Pradeep, our colleague from Bahirdar. He was enquiring about our next day’s programme. I returned back to the room and to my horror the main door would not open. The door was having a last laugh. It was shut as the doors of the proverbial Fort Knox. No human force in the world was enough to open it.

I rushed back to the reception. Now there were four or five able bodied men struggling with the smug door. The door stayed put. It was not budging for anything. One of the hotel attender leaped through the adjacent window, cat style into the room. He landed safely and another followed. Now it was two inside and two outside. It appeared funny now, but it was serious at that time. 

The four of them were waging a battle with the grim door. After a titanic struggle the door simply gave up. Once the door’s resistance was worn down the bolt was broken and the door opened with an almighty creak. We were all relieved. It was quite stressful.

The next day morning, presented a new challenge. There was no hot water facility. “10 birr extra for a room with hot water” was the dour announcement from the reception clerk. “chigrey illam (no problem)” I glibly remarked. We repacked and moved to the room with hot water facility.

This new room was a colonial style room. It had a cute veranda and a very decent bathroom with hot water facility. Pranav was clutching onto to the bucket that he carried with him from the earlier room. 

"Smart guy" I intoned trying my best imitation of Lion, Ajit the iconic hindi actor, who would say "Smart guy " whenever his henchmen did a clever thing.