89 - Anasuya Aunty’s visit and Surprise of surprises at Mercato – Ethiopian Journey.

10^th October is the big day as far as this blog is concerned. It was 10^th October 2017, when I wrote the first blog post, titled “The genesis – Ethiopian journey – Part – I”. I   made a mental vow. That I would blog daily and that I would limit myself to 500 words per blog post.

Let me admit I was way off the mark on both counts, guilty as charged!!!  I could blog only 88 times instead of the self-promised 365 times and my average word count is 917 words per blog against 500 words. 365 blogs @ 500 words would have meant 1,82,500 words. I have so far reached 80,661 words to pen my 88 blogs. 

So much for the statistics of my one-year journey. The next interesting event that we were all anticipating in July 2003 was the visit of Padma’s mother Mrs. Anasuya Devi Matam. Anasuya Aunty lived in the USA along with her second son, Matam Sai Prasad, a well-known Software Engineer. Anasuya aunty’s elder son Luke (Srinivas) Matam also lived in the USA.

Aunty had her life cut out for travel! Her daughter was in India till 2002, and both her sons were in USA. But our going to Ethiopia changed it all. Now her relatives near and dear were in India, sons in USA and daughter in Africa. She was literally straddling three continents; Asia, America and Africa (Triple A, what a coincidence!). Aunty was made of very sterner stuff! She wanted to visit us, come what may! She did not want to miss seeing her grand children growing up.

A plan was made for her to visit Bahirdar, Ethiopia. The plan hit a stumbling road block. Sai told us that the air fare from SFO (San Francisco) to Addis Ababa were way too expensive.  A ticket from SFO – Hyderabad – Mumbai – Addis Ababa was cheaper than SFO - Addis Ababa. It was decided that Aunty would come to Hyderabad, India and from there come to Addis Ababa and then to Bahirdar.

The first part of the plan went as per schedule. Aunty landed in India and was overjoyed to see her relatives and friends. The information about her arrival was conveyed to us through ‘rock(et) communication’.

Our Rocket communication was the joke of entire Kable 7. In 2003 landline phones were rare in Bahirdar and luckily for us Kuldeep had one and his house was right behind ours. Whenever he received our telephone call from India/USA he would throw a small rock onto our roof. As the roofs were all make of tin, the falling of the rock made quite a noise. A falling rock meant a telephone call. We would lock the house and make a quick beeline to receive the rare telephone call from India/USA.

We were told, when aunty would come to Addis Ababa and Padma and me made suitable plans. Padma and the kids were quite keen to come to Addis but I convinced them (may be prophetically) that I would go alone. I told Padma quite jovially “You better stay here. May be some information might come in from India/USA”.

On the day before Aunty was supposed to come, I went to Addis Ababa by the trusted Cobra (Toyota Land Cruiser). By now I got used to the dusty and bumpy road travel and with a handkerchief draped on the face the journey was bearable.

I landed in the evening in Addis and took a room in Tourist Hotel, Arat Kilo. It was quite spacious for a single person. The tiresome travel and the delicious Bayenetu (Injera served with Vegetables) had me nodding off to sleep in no time.

The next day dawned quite chilly. I had to spend the entire day as Aunty’s flight was only expected at mid night! I went to the local Ethiopian Airlines office and booked two tickets, for the next day morning. Spending an entire day in Addis Ababa was not a big deal. I went to Mercato, the biggest open air market in the world.

Unlike the nay sayers Mercato is very safe. Obviously we need to take care of our wallets just like any other city of the world. Unfolding in front of me were unbelievable items and products that I was totally unaware off.

I stopped and gazed at a beautiful article, the size of a small water melon. It looked very fragile and had stunningly beautiful Ethiopian motifs painted on it. I took this quite peculiar article in my hand. I thought it was made of wood.

To my surprise it was hollow and light. “What is it?” I asked in wonder. “Yesegoni Inikulali” was the impudent answer. Inkulal as we spelt it, I knew was an egg. Then it dawned on me, I was looking at the biggest egg that a bird could lay – An ostrich egg!!!

The discovery stunned me. It was totally unexpected. Seeing an ostrich egg itself was rare and here I was looking at an ostrich egg transformed into an art piece. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The enterprising youngster made a small incision at the base of the egg and sucked out all the liquid.

Then he sealed the hole and painted beautiful tales from the bible. The huge challenge would have been to bring symmetry and structure to a painting on a curved surface. I had never seen anything as artistic as the painted ostrich egg in my hands!

Then the battle started. I asked the rate. It was 500 birr. I rolled my eyes up, made a noise as if a scooter was revving up. I said “Orroo! Habesha, Firanji ilem (hold on, hold on, I am a local not a foreigner)”. I quoted 50 birr. The vendor was not impressed. He sat on his high horse. “400 Birr” was his snarling reply, as I made a hasty get away. I was almost ambushed 100 metres away. “how much, how much” he was demanding. “80 birr, 80 birr (Rs 400 or roughly 8 dollars at that time)” I said, sounding more confident than I felt.

With a disgusted look, he shoved the Ethiopian egg roughly into my hand and I paid him his eighty birr. It was a damn tough task to get the fragile egg back to my room. I had not carried any bag and the Indian carrying an ostrich egg in his hand and dexterously maneuvering it through the crowds and protecting it as if his life depended on its survival must have made quite an impression on many Ethiopians.

It was almost 5 p.m. by the time I reached Tourist hotel and I have to wait for seven more hours before the flight landed from Mumbai. I went to room and tried to relax, but I was as tense as a coiled spring.  I was good to go.

88 – Two-year Contract and Contract extension – Ethiopian Journey – Blog Post

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Come April and May of a year and there is a perceptible change in the mood and behaviour of the expatriate faculty at Bahirdar University. There were three grades of faculty, one, the regular Ethiopian faculty who were on permanent tenure, two, expatriate faculty working on voluntary basis and third category were foreign teachers who worked under the UNDP (United Nations Development Programme). Expatriate teachers were not on permanent tenure and their contracts were for two-years. 

The volunteer teachers came from a different scheme and were usually governed by a different set of rules and regulations. They received all the facilities given to expat teachers but were paid living wages only. The volunteer teachers were mostly retired professors from European countries who were passionate about teaching and wanted to contribute their mite towards education and development of under developed countries.

The best paid were the teachers under the UNDP scheme. They were paid handsome salary by their country standards but not by most European standards. Most teachers from Europe and America would not apply. Teachers from other countries would apply, but their proficiency in English remained poor. The exchange rate of the dollar against the rupee meant that Indians found teaching in Ethiopia lucrative and attractive too.

Indians’ proficiency in English and their neutral English accent meant that they found acceptability as teachers in Ethiopia. The long lasting reputation of Indians as good teachers in Ethiopia also helped. Ethiopian university experts in Interview panels always found resonance of their own Indian teachers in the candidates they were interviewing.

There was a huge concentration of Indian teachers in excess of 90% of total expatriate teaching country. Sometimes there were a smattering of Filipino teachers or rarely Nigerian teachers.

  

Indians who came faced shocks of their life. Ethiopia is not like USA. Most get disillusioned with the slow pace of life, the dusty roads and the lack of speedy cars and glamour associated with the place of work. The disillusioned teachers leave quickly, with-in three to six months and it is a process of survival of fittest. 

Then there are the nay sayers, senior teachers who say what a raw deal that the new expats received. I remember one senior teacher telling us “You guys were done in; you should have been taken as Senior Assistant Professors. And you have been given a raw deal as far as salary is concerned. You should have bargained for atleast for 50% more salary!!!!”.

End of the day, Teachers who stayed back get reconciled with the salary and with the living conditions. They start liking the place and settle in. The contract renewals are once in two years.

Post May once the 2^nd semester results are declared it is summer vacation. The concept of summer vacation varies from place to place. Summer vacation in Ethiopia is from May to September. This is the time when it rains heavily. It had struck me “Summer vacation is the time when the students can’t go to the school or college”. In India it is the hot summer and in Ethiopia it is when it rains heavily. It is almost impossible to move about freely!

Once the teacher finishes eighteen months of his/her service, he/she starts getting jittery. He has heard stories of how contracts have not been extended, how the student feedback only did not only matter. The teacher’s public relations and his ability to mix with the local community and with the local teachers comes to the fore.

Teachers aspiring to get extensions go into overdrive. They start becoming more pally with their HODs, Assistant Deans and with Deans. Suddenly huge parties are given. The parties are a dead giveaway – they are like emperor’s clothes, everyone except the party giver knows the real purpose and the teacher aspiring to get an extension pretends as if it is a normal thing. Sometimes the charade is quite pathetic to witness as it unfolds. The desperateness to get an extension is way too apparent. The young Ethiopian HODs who were fresh out of college had very little experience in the ways of politicking were quite taken in by the sudden attention they were getting!

The teacher concerned has to write a letter to the University’s Vice President (Vice Chancellor) requesting an extension of contract. On receipt of the extension request, the department goes into action. The department’s Ethiopian teachers meet and discuss threadbare and this discussion could take many hours.

All the time the concerned teacher would on tenterhooks. Sometime later the HOD would come out and reveal the recommendations of the committee. If it is positive and if the concerned teacher is getting an extension everything is honky donky. But the situation of the teachers not getting an extension is pathetic. They are not told immediately and they come to know about their fate through innuendo and gossip. By that time, it is usually too late.  

The continued tension of waiting and requesting extensions of contracts takes a heavy toll. The reactions of the teachers not getting extensions are a study in contrast. Some take it stolidly and get resigned to their fate. They quietly prepare to exit the country with pride and honor. The other Indians move in for the kill. They eagerly enquire if the departing Indian has anything of value – like desk top computer, mixer grinders, cameras, TVs, dish antennas that he/she might want to dispose. They are like vultures moving in to feast on the carrion. The cycle of life goes on.

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It is the vicious Indian teachers who could not get an extension who vitiate the atmosphere and create disturbance. They would blame everyone including the Indian teachers for their fate. They would pass comments “Oh the Ethiopian teachers are good. It was our own Indian teachers who were jealous. They could not bear my success. They went and influenced the Ethiopians”.

The tirade would go on and on, and usually May, June are quite stressful months for teachers in Bahirdar, Ethiopia. September, October and November are months of intrigue, surprise and anticipation – the existing teachers breathlessly wait the arrival of the new set of Indian teachers.

87 - Tradition Bound Indian – Chocolate Box – Ethiopian Journey – Blog Post .

A Tradition Bound Indian (TBI) celebrated his birthday and there were many Indians, Ethiopians and a smattering of European teachers who attended the birthday party. As is customary many of the guests brought small gifts and tokens of appreciation. 

Most of the gifts were consumed quickly or stored away for future use or to be used as birthday gifts which could be off loaded to unsuspecting kids. TBI was totally taken aback by the large box of chocolates gifted by one of the European teachers from PEDA. 

If it had been any other teachers from any other country, he would have simply gifted it away. Hoarding comes naturally to Indians. Using and extracting the last part of any product is wired and is part of his DNA. 

One of my friend exclaimed in exasperation “We Indians!! we will drink Phenyl if we get it free!!!”. I added, “Not only will we drink the Phenyl but sell the empty bottle to the Raddi (plastic bottle recycler) fellow”. 

Such is the “extend the use till the last drop” syndrome of the Indians. Another Indian wittily asked “what do Indians do with old shaving blades?” and answered the question himself “Silly question, the answer is simple – We shave with OLD BLADES!”. 

TBI was nonplussed at the size of the box. It was a huge box and it had dark chocolate blocks, all individually wrapped. Indians born in the 60s and 70s were not very fond of chocolates. Chocolates were perceived as a product consumed by the kids.

TBI unwrapped one chocolate and tentatively took a bite. The taste almost knocked him off. It had the most peculiar taste, he had ever experienced. It was very bitter and not at all sweet. TBI was stumped. He somehow managed to eat the very bitter and awful tasting chocolate. 

From that day onwards TBI dreaded his dinner. After the frugal meal that he was accustomed (TBI was a pure vegetation, and a teetotaller – He never had a drop of alcohol in his life), he would take another block of chocolate and consume it. This was the most puzzling part – he could have simply thrown the offensive chocolate away or given the box away. But TBI was not wired that way.  Tightening his Loins, he would undergo the unbearable torture every night and religiously consume a chocolate. 

This had become a daily routine and to his horror he realized that he was liking the bitter taste. Heart in heart he was waiting for his daily fix. He was getting used, rather getting addicted. 

Quite accidentally one day in PEDA, he met the European teacher who gifted him the chocolate box. He grudgingly told him “the chocolates are fine. The taste was bitter and very different. But with lot of difficulty I could eat the first one. After lot of struggle, I am able to consume one a day. Infact I have started liking the taste” Just to spice the conversation, TBI added “Those are wonderful as sleep inducers. I am able to sleep well”. 

The European’s face was flushed. He was struggling with some internal emotions. He finally burst out “Are you telling me that you don’t know what those chocolates are? Did you consume them all by yourselves, and you ate them one per day?????”. 

The European was staring at TBI as if he was Yeti, the legendary snowman. He was sputtering and stammering. It was as if someone sat on him and knocked the wind out. 

A glimmer of realization and an awful feeling started stirring and creeping in TBI’s mind. He asked with an almighty quiver “what do you mean type of chocolate? And what do you mean by asking me ‘did you consume them all by yourself???”. 

By now the European had a smirk on his face “Yes Sir, they were not normal chocolates. They were Liquor Candy. Chocolate that have generous amount of liquor. The ones that I gave you were from Switzerland and they were chocolates full of RUM”. 

He added with a grin “I never knew that you would consume them all. The custom is to share among friends and get done with them”. “Lucky you” the European exclaimed “you have not only consumed them all but seems to have got used to the taste. YOU MUST have LOVED the Rummy taste. You are a quite a RUMMY GUY!!!!”. To top it all, The European gave a leering smile and a knowing wink.  

TBI was shocked. The Five Foot Four TBI would have happily chocked the offensive Six and a half feet tall ‘ear to ear grinning’ European teacher with his hands and gone to the jail. But he realized that the entire episode would be out in the open. He would become the laughing stock, first at the university, next in Bahirdar and finally in India. 

Swallowing his pride, the shock of the revelation and the bile that had swelled upto his throat, TBI humbly returned to his home. He was a beaten man; his soul was crushed.  TBI brushed his teeth with enormous amount of tooth paste –the first time in his life. He cried in despair. The enamel might come off but the damage has been done. As he splashed water on his weary teeth and reddened gums, he told himself “It is of no use, I am a drunkard now. I will have to take this to my grave!”. 

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His lifelong penance of being a teetotaller was broken. He was addicted to alcohol as alcoholics who drink and brawl in the small and dinky bars in India. After that day TBI was a changed person. He would check with others about any product that he had a doubt. When in doubt he would simply refrain from using the product. He had learnt his lesson the hard way. Once Bitten (I mean once eaten) twice shy! 

86 - Pranav's 2nd Grade examinations get over - visiting India - Preparing for Graduation ceremony - Sai Baba Bhajans - Ethiopian Journey - Blog Post no - 86

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Pranav’s 2^nd grade examinations got over and the results were favourable. He passed the examinations with flying colours and got an overall percentage of 90%. He was over the moon!!!. We had to prepone our journey back to Bahirdar by a day as two examinations were held in a day by the school, so that we could go back to our universities one day in advance.

Ethiopian Airlines was accommodating and helped us in preponing our trip. There was excitement all around. We were not unhappy at Addis Ababa but home is home and we were keen to go back.

TFM (Telugu Faculty Member) who could not get us a small parcel from India even though he stayed only a kilometre away had given us a very generous list of things that he wanted from Addis Ababa.

As I read the list, I was truly astonished. TFM wanted almost everything from Addis, 10 kgs of fine rice, nearly ten kgs of vegetables. The sheer audacity of his wishes took my breath away.

We bought Thailand rice that looks like Sona Masoori. Basmati rice was available but somehow Basmati rice is not for daily use. It tasted funny when eaten as white rice. It is good for biryani and that too if taken once in a while. We also bought five kgs each of brinjal (egg-plant) and Okra (ladies finger).

The journey back to Bahirdar was quite rocky and full of turbulence. It was scary too. The plane was buffeted with strong winds and it kept dropping and climbing up again. Sahithi was very scared. We too were experiencing the same but put up a straight face but internally we were all shivering with fright.

In our first contract we had to deposit our passports in the university. Planning to go to India was a herculean task. First of all, there had to be a valid reason to travel and an Indian in Bahirdar had to sign the travel application as a surety.

Kuldeep (our PEDA mathematics faculty) wanted to go to India on a personal visit and saw to it that a telegram arrived from India citing that his grandmother was sick. I stood as a surety for Kuldeep. Kuldeep’s departure was a shock to many Indians in Bahirdar.

True to Indian mentality, rumours started to fly - That Kuldeep could not teach properly, that his feedback was not good and that he was gone for good and that as a surety I was in trouble.

Many Indians were actually very happy. ‘Anil got his comeuppance’ was the general feeling. They all purred like cats who had their full quota of cream and were contented.  They were sharpening their axes –eager to see the broom getting lowered on me (the penalty being levied).

Kuldeep returned from India. Most Indians were actually disappointed with the turn of events. Funny, the way people react to crisis and crisis management. 

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As the semester progressed there was palpable excitement in the university. The student community started looking brighter and the air was pregnant with anticipation. Initially I could not understand what was happening. Then it dawned upon me. The student community was preparing for the event of their lifetime – Graduation Ceremony!

For many in Ethiopia even in 2002, it was very rare to be well educated. Passing the school examination was seen as an achievement and here were students who were passing their advanced diplomas for the first time and in some cases some students were getting graduated! For many families, they were the first graduates!

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Getting graduated in Ethiopia at that time was a really big deal. It was very rare and families travelled long distances to different universities just to see their children getting graduated. The family would not spare any effort or cost to celebrate their most joyous day – GRADUATION CEREMONY.

It was an event of a life time. I was told that Bahirdar would get decked like a new bride. There would be festivities everywhere. Flower bouquet sellers would do brisk business and all local photographers would be busy.

There would be brisk business for stationery and gift shops. The students and their parents and relatives would roam in Bahirdar – the students in their graduation dress. The celebrations would spill into the streets. There would be dancing and impromptu celebrations everywhere. It looks as if entire Bahirdar was celebrating the students’ success.

They would visit the tourist spots and take keep sake snaps. It was truly amazing what graduation meant for Ethiopians. I could not wait. I wanted to experience my first Ethiopian graduation ceremony!

In demand would be the teachers, especially the foreign teachers.  I was asked by my students, including the ones that I did not teach, whether I would be in Bahirdar at the graduation time. Taking snaps with teachers was customary and taking snaps with foreign teachers was a badge of honour – ‘I was taught by a foreigner – that too an Indian!!!!!’.

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This planning for the festivities somehow made me pensive and sad. We Indians have become blasé and don’t seem to enjoy the small things in life. Graduation ceremonies are mostly done away in Indian Institutions both at graduate and post graduate level. It is customary for universities to hold graduation ceremonies only for PhD scholars and that too once in two or three years. We need to celebrate  the event irrespective of it magnitude.

Padma decided that we should perform Sai Baba’s bhajan every Thursday. Our family, Dr. Srinivas Inguva (who had a very melodious voice) and Dr. Neelima were the regulars.   We (our family, Dr. Srinivas Inguva or Dr. Neelima) prepared some snacks and offered it to Sai Baba as Prasad. After the Bhajan, we would partake in the Prasad and then disperse. It was soothing and made the kids concentrate on connecting with the almighty.

One Indian was quite upset. He asked me “Anil garu, I am very glad that you are performing Sai Baba Bhajan. That is very nice. But I am not getting my share of the Prasad”.

I was totally taken aback “Your Prasad sir, I don’t understand?”. That Indian gave me the look that people give an imbecile, “Sir, my share sir, you are not sending my share”.

By this time, I had recovered from the initial shock. I said, very gently, “Sir, Prasad has to be taken as Prasad. It is only for people who come to my house and do the Bhajan. We can’t give Prasad for the people who stay at their homes and expect us to home deliver”. The Indian kept quiet, grudgingly.

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.