The tryst with the tourist guides, we thought was done and dusted. Oh boy! We were mistaken and How! The motley crowd of wanna-be-guides were not to be discouraged. They were made of sterner stuff! They followed us just like the children following the Pied Piper of Hamlin. Hamlin’s Piper must have had it easy.
The children following him would have laughed and giggled, not our Ethiopian lot. They were noisy and made many comments. And the entire crowd would howl away to glory. We were used to it but the experience unnerved aunty. She is from United States, where privacy is respected and valued. Privacy in Ethiopia was in short supply. You take a turn and the crowd is in your face.
There were many other wanna-be-entrepreneurs among the crowd. Some were selling handloom items of dubious lineage, some were selling small baskets and some were marketing long sticks!! why sticks we wondered?
Few minutes later, we understood the reason. It was the peak rainy season and the route was sticky and quite slippery. The mud had the look of a slippery goo. So slippery that walkers would slide helplessly and fall head or butt first right into the wet, slushy and sticky Ethiopian clay soil.
The locals had made rickety bridges with the logs which they must have taken from the surrounding forest. The smart entrepreneurs plonked themselves next to the rickety bridge and demanded 10 birr per person for the privilege of using their ‘golden gate bridge’. “If you don’t, you are welcome to eat the fine Ethiopian mud (when you fall)”.
Then there are the smart kids who would politely offered to hold our hands and guide us. These are the second generation entrepreneurs who are great at offering services instead of products. For a birr they would hold your hands and allow one to cross the bridge. And the third generation entrepreneurs are those who sell a steady stick that we could use to walk in the muddy terrain and the cost was cheap - 10 birr at the least.
Then there are the smart kids who would politely offered to hold our hands and guide us. These are the second generation entrepreneurs who are great at offering services instead of products. For a birr they would hold your hands and allow one to cross the bridge. And the third generation entrepreneurs are those who sell a steady stick that we could use to walk in the muddy terrain and the cost was cheap - 10 birr at the least.
Our mathematics teacher, Dr. Kuldeep Singh’s eyebrows were furrowed so deeply that they almost disappeared! ‘Ah, ah’ he exploded “10 birr for the stick, at least 3 birr for using the bridge and another 1 birr for holding their hands. That is a total of 15 birr!!!”. “By the time we reach the falls I will have to pay my entire salary to them”. His indignation was a sight. We did not have smart phones at that time. Otherwise we could have had a price winning photo opportunity.
The Ethiopians used the stampede technique. They would crowd us and create claustrophobia. We resisted their ploy but the going was tough. Every one slipped and fell. It was like the coming of age initiation ceremony.
‘Thou shall fall atleast once’ Tiss Abay waterfall seemed to whisper in our ears. And pronto people would fall, seemingly obeying the command of the naughty Tiss Abay. Finally, it was only me and Padma, who did not bite the dust. Padma was carrying Sahithi in her arms.
She turned to aunty and said “No mummy, it is all about balance. You need to step gingerly and not firmly”. By this time she had the attention of the entire group “Like this, mummy“ She demonstrated. “One step at a time and you would never fall”. Our very own PhD ‘in slippery mud walking” was prophesizing.
Aunty turned, her eyes full of admiration. She wanted to take a look at her spider woman daughter who had a vice like grip on the slippery ground. But where was her dear daughter!!!???? Nowhere to be seen!
Padma was sitting heavily on the ground. Just as she was prophesizing she slid rapidly and landed almost ten feet away. She was like an ice skater, totally out of control! Her breath was knocked out. She was not hurt but her pride was! We all had a laugh of our life time. Sahithi who was in Padma’s arms had a jolt of her life and she did not like it one bit. She started wailing indignantly. All for may be 30 seconds.
Our entrepreneurial lot had an opportunity of their life. All of them started crying in a falsetto. Incredibly all of them were imitating Sahithi. It was eerie to say the least! The sound was like 1000 banshees wailing! Sahithi had a shock. She had never been teased so mercilessly. She shut down as tight as a clam!
But the crowd would not stop. It was a party time. Even I could not avoid the Tiss Abay trail by Wet mud. My foot got stuck into the most annoying “try as you might” can’t take it out mud. I tried a lot but my shoe would not budge. I had to stick my hand into the nauseating and quite smelly mud to extricate my foot and yes my shoe too. I had to spend an exasperating ten minutes trying to get the mud off my shoe and then from my socks and foot too!
Nothing more annoying than trying to dry wet socks and wetter shoes, that too in humid conditions and in rainy season. Finally, I put my wet foot into an equally wet shoe and the shoe made sickening squeaky sound every time I walked. It was like walking forever in a field full of wet mud. The mud seemed to want to grab and hold me down. My shoes were squeaking like a badly made musical shoes of a one-year-old toddler.
By the time we reached the meadows our spirits were down and we were snapping at each other. The sight was majestic. We could see the majestic waterfalls in full flow in the back ground. We sat down to eat. We had blankets but they too were soggy and wet. But they were much better than the beastly wet ground. As we started to eat, a melodious sound wafted towards us. It was the most incredible sound ever.
We were transported back to the times when Krishna frolicked in Dwaraka along with his friends. It was a heart touching flute recital by a cow herder. This kid wearing an angelic smile played on his rustic flute and as long as we had our lunch.
We beckoned him. He refused to eat Indian food but gleefully accepted the 10 birr note that we gave him. God Bless you dear cow herder. Hope that you made it big in life and are touching many other people’s lives – the way you touched ours and got permanently etched in our minds.
