95 - Prodigious Pranav and Deadly Dosas! Ethiopian Journey

Pranav was a prodigious kid. Full of beans and doubts which could stun and irritate the most docile and placid person. It was very irritating and quite frankly we were spell bound by his doubts. We simply did not have answers to his prolific and ‘always-on–tap’ questions. He could rattle off a sequence of doubts and expect his mother to answer them to his satisfaction! A tall order by any standard!!!

He was quite dubious and cunning about the entire thing. He would slide up to his mother and fire one quite innocuously with “butter would not melt in my mouth” demeanor. Some of his doubts almost made poor Padma jump out of her skin! We were very sure that his 8-year-old body would be twitching in delight seeing the hardships he was causing!!! 

Many dishes were spoiled and many times Padma almost lost it. Even though she was quite calm and composed, Pranav’s continuous barrage of questions were wearing down her defenses. At times she had the haunted look of a person locked in a room with a machine that keeps firing questions at her just like cricket balls thrown at 100 miles per hour at a helpless number 11 batsman! Such was his volley of questions that he was quickly christened “Master Doubtfire” by his quite irritated and totally hapless mother. 

Sample some of his doubts: 

Why is it called Ladies Finger why not Gents Finger? 

Why should we call it Mango why not Womango? 

Why Handsaw why not Handsee? 

Why T-shirt why not coffee-shirt?

Why Rocket and not stonet? 

Why Octopus why not 8-pus? 

Why Donkey why not Donlock? 

Why Mongoose and why not Mongeese and not Mongander? 

Why Breakfast why not Breakslow for a person eating slowly?

Why tooth paste why not teeth paste and teeth brush 

And the mostly deadly one - Does a tiger eat a man with his clothes on, or does the tiger take the clothes off his victim before eating him?

We never had answers to such questions!!!

On an exceptionally hard day Padma was totally at her wits end. She was ready to say quits! Seeing the seriousness of the situation, I made the family sit in the garden and passed a diktat (order). In my most serious and dictatorial voice, I proclaimed with all the pomp that I could muster “For the next one hour our family will be the most silent family in Bahirdar”. 

Padma the poor soul was delighted. ‘Silence is gold and I need a tonne of it” she must have muttered to herself. Sahithi all of two years was intimidated by my seriousness. She became silent and looked at her mother for support. 

This was something not to Pranav’s liking. His 8-year-old self-rebelled against the idea of sitting silently for 60 minutes which otherwise could be spent fruitfully by asking mind numbing questions that would send any sane person into stupor or even into coma! 

Then he brightened visibly and glibly said, “Sahithi, a silent family is a family that does not talk. Silence means that no one talks. A silent family is liked by everyone……………..” He rattled on and on. For the next ten minutes we were given a lecture on silence, why we need to be silent and virtues of being silent in the most noisy and raucous fashion! I SILENTLY marveled at the ingenuity of my son who adroitly turned tables on us! For once I was totally stumped! Game set and match - Pranav Pratheek, the noisiest boy in the world!!! 

You can take an Indian out of India but you can’t take India out of an Indian. We were yearning for Dosas and Idlis but Minappappu (Urad Dal), skinned Black gram was not available in Bahirdar. Dr. Radhakrishna, a fellow faculty member made a monumental discovery. HE DISCOVERED URAD DAL in Bahirdar market and it was quite cheap, ten birr a kilo. 

Soon there were stories making rounds in Bahirdar. Stories of how Radhakrishna’s family was enjoying Dosas and Idlis by the dozen. His family was the envy of the town. Soon a contingent of Indian teachers beseeched Radhakrishna and finally he consented with a kindly light took us to the shop in Bahirdar market which sold the URAD DAL. The shop keeper was nonplussed but solemnly sold us as much Urad Dal as we wanted.

Padma the kind soul, threw a dosa party. Kable 7’s Indians, Bala, Suresh, Krishna, Rajani madam and Clara were invited. Oh boy did we have a dosa party! It was the mother of all parties. 

Padma made karam podi and potato curry and we all hogged. Many of us had three to four dosas. The dosas almost tasted Indian. Everyone dispersed after the dosa orgy. By afternoon all hell broke out. 

Everyone barring Sahithi (who wisely had only one dosa) was having the most severe stomach cramps. So severe that it felt as if our stomach was being churned by an infernal washing machine in the fast wash mode and it looked like someone forcefully stapled our stomachs. 

The pain was unbearable. Home remedies were tried out, including drinking water copiously, having soft drinks, digene but to no avail. Many Indians faced a sleepless night. We suffered too. It was like an Agatha Christie novel “Death by Dosa!”. 

Next day I scooped up some of the innocuous and innocent looking skinned black gram seeds and took them to my Management HOD. She too was puzzled. She did not even know what they were! I was desperate to crack the mystery. I took the offensive grains to the Agricultural Department of Bahirdar University. 

The kind professor who received us too, was nonplussed. He took the grains and promised a quick investigation as to why these grains caused so much pain!! 

The professor was at my office the next day. He had an almighty grin. A grin so wide that it threatened to tear his face off. He was trying to control his mirth, but it was a lost battle, “Dr. Aneel” he almost shouted at me “It is very clear. What you ate is not for human consumption. It is a special grain that is used in Ethiopia to make race horses run as fast as they can. The grain is so strong that it is diluted so much that a kilo of this wonder grain is enough to boost twenty horses to gallop as fast as they can”. It was a shock of my life. 

We ground the very strong and toxic grains and made dosas!!!  And we had dosas with equally heavy potato curry.  It was no wonder that we all experienced the most severe stomach cramps of our life. Light dawned. That is why the shopkeeper gave us such funny looks! He could not comprehend why these scholarly looking Indians were buying grains that were almost exclusively bought by Ethiopians who bred race horses that could gallop as fast as wind! But being a smart seller he was, he made hay as the sun shone! He sold us the wonder grain, while inwardly he must have been smirking “Oh boy, these Indians are as mad as MAD can be!” 

As usual Pranav had the last laugh, “What Nanna? The solution is very simple. We can eat dosas and gallop all the way to Gondar (a historic Ethiopian city, 140 kilometers from Bahirdar)”. I was so annoyed and angry that I could not even muster courage to reprimand him! It was quite an ordeal! 

94 - Finally at Tiss Abay Water Falls - Ethiopian Journey

The lazy lunch was consumed but we were reluctant to move. Sensing the mood, we decided to slow the pace. I posed the question to the group. Which was the best part of the trip so far? As usual Pranav was off the mark, even before the question sank in by quipping “of course throwing stones into the river!!!”

We had come across Abay river, the birth place of the great Nile river the cradle of modern Egyptian civilization. Kuldeep and me agreed too. The river was not very deep and we hopped into the middle of the river. It was slippery but we did it. Padma the ever adventurous got to the center of the river and she was carrying Sahithi in her arms. Aunty, Krishna Kumari and Shilpa watched her in astonishment! They could not believe their eyes.

The locals were petrified. They started waving their hands. We need not know the language, the message was clear!!! “get out as fast as you can”. Safely back on the river bank, I was quite annoyed at being dragged back so soon. “What was the bloody hurry?” I grumbled “What will happen, would an Anaconda swallow us?” I asked sarcastically. The movie anaconda flashed into my mind. But the science student in me reared up his head. Anacondas don’t exist in Ethiopia!

Suresh who was talking to the locals came up. He was definitely worried, “Sir” He exclaimed “hundred times more dangerous. The waters are infested with hippopotamus”. “That missed me, totally!” I told myself. Languid, robust and appearing to be lazy, Hippos are viewed as safe and harmless. But they can be deadly dangerous and  aggressive and many cases of hippos goring people to death have been reported from throughout the world including, Ethiopia.

We recited the incident to others and everyone got cautious. Dare I say, Overcautious. Pranav and Sahithi started looking at any sudden movement with alarm and apprehension. Pranav was on his guard from the hippos. He almost expected hippos to jump out of a bush and gobble him up!

But we all agreed that the best part was the very green surroundings and the hills around which accentuated the effect. It was like walking in the valley of flowers in Himachal Pradesh, India.  It was pleasantly cool and there was a carpet of grass where ever we looked. The show man in me took over “Do you know what this carpet is made of?”. “Oh yes, it’s a carpet of grass”. “Ha, ha” I said, “You are wrong, this is not grass, it is made up of lakhs and lakhs of young marigold plants”.

The entire group bent down and checked. Yes it was tiny marigold saplings all right. They were growing like weed. We all imagined the sight of lakhs and lakhs of marigold plants and crores of marigold flowers when they bloomed.  It would be a spectacular sight. Now a days when we moan the lack of fertility of our land, this incident comes flashing back. How I miss Ethiopia where we dumped marigold saplings by lakhs from our garden. They were a nuisance!

Suitably fortified both mentally and physically we ventured out of our picturesque lunch spot. As we walked to the end of the meadow, we realized that we were not on a meadow, we were on a plateau, a plateau that tapered off into a small slope that led to the base of the water fall. 

As we reached the end of the plateau the noise turned deafening. The entire area was smoking – no wonder Tiss Abay in Amharic meaning great smoke/ smoking waterfall or waterfall that emits smoke or fog. The water from the waterfall was chocolate brown and was tumbling down the 45 metres fall effortlessly. It was like watching a giant chocolate fountain in reverse.

Watching any waterfall is always an awesome sight. Water is the elixir of life and water tumbling down a slope somehow makes us bow our head in reverence to the might of the nature.

We went down the slope and as we went down it was apparent that we were descending into the lap of nature. The waterfall slopes were wet and clinging on was moss of myriad colors. The rocks were glittering with drops of water like the sweat on well-toned muscles of a superbly fit athlete.

There was a rock right in front of the waterfall and we took the customary keepsake snaps. Yes, it was a very satisfying experience. We climbed up and wanted to go back. But there was a twist in the tail. There was a boat that could take us to the other side of the river and that could cut the journey time by half. 

We were delighted at the turn of events. We all crowded the small motor boat. The driver could speak English. He greeted us politely “20 birr, 20 birr” We did a double take. “20 birr for all of us” we asked hopefully. “No” he confirmed “20 birr for each”. We haggled “the distance is short” we argued “we can see the other side”. But he was adamant. “20 or walk” was his dictum.

We showed him our work permits. Told him that we were not tourists and that we were working for his people and that we were residents of Ethiopia. But to no vail.  After lot of front and forth finally we agreed for ten birr for each one of us including Pranav and Sahithi. We had no choice. We grudgingly paid. It was painful to pay 10 birr each.  The locals were paying only a birr. They were grinning ear to ear seeing our discomfort.

That is how the cookie crumbles throughout the world including India. For example, in Hyderabad, for entry into Golconda fort the locals are charged Rs 10/- and the foreigners are charged 25 US Dollars. Same is the case at Taj Mahal. The rates for locals and foreigners differ. But the issue in Ethiopia is quite different. The amount that was charged is not fixed by the government. Tourism is not state controlled and is in the informal sector. I am sure that for white tourists the same guy would have demanded 10 US dollars, equivalent to 85 birr!

The apathy of the government to tourism was apparent. There were no sign boards. Nothing to explain the uniqueness of the site and no souvenir shops. That is how tourism is run in third world countries. Tourists are left to fend for themselves and have to manage on their wits.

As we were exiting, a government official magically appeared out of nowhere. “100 birr” he exclaimed pointing to my video camera. “100 birr!!!” I gasped. “Why didn’t you tell us when we went in?”. It was too much for this government official. He kept repeating “100 birr, 100 birr” in a monotonous charade.

It was quite clear that he meant business. We paid him the 100 birr but there was bitter taste in the mouth. First of all, we did not even know whether he was a government official in charge of tourism. He could be any government official who was stationed at Tiss Abay. He did not give us a receipt.

Worst of all, why did he not tell us about the charge when we were entering? Why not a simple board about the fees and the dos and don’ts. What is permitted and what is not. Tourism is a Russian roulette in Ethiopia.  You never know which one of the six chambers of the revolver has the bullet! It is a guessing game for all, including the government officials themselves!!!