100th Blog posting!!! It is a century, Guys!!! -- Planning a trip – Ethiopian Journey

The first blog post on Ethiopia was on 10^th October 2017 and the 100^th blog post is being posted on 31st of March 2019. The journey to write 100 blog posts has taken me 535 days. Including this post I have written 95,000 words. I average 950 words per post.

Along the way I have picked up a small army of loyal readers who follow my blogs with religious zeal. They read and give constructive feedback. Most of my loyal readers have remained with me in this 1.5 years’ journey of my blog. Throughout the world nearly 20,000 people have read my postings and that, in my view is a ringing endorsement of my humble effort.   

The Indian community in Bahirdar is minuscule and it can be safely be said that anything, I repeat anything becomes NEWS. The tit-bit of news has to be flogged and flogged till the last drop is taken out of the juicy gossip.

Anasuya Aunty’s (Padma’s mother) visit to Ethiopia triggered the wanderlust in our family. We wanted to travel and see the important tourist destinations of Ethiopia. Being prudent, we wanted to maximize on the destinations and wanted our travel to be budget friendly and the duration to be short. Travelling on the dusty metal roads of Ethiopia (in 2003) took a heavy toll on the human endurance and the dusty roads could lead to severe cough and other throat related problems.

Google search threw up some very interesting facts. Ethiopia has nine world heritage sites. A World Heritage Site is a landmark or area which is selected by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) as having cultural, historical, scientific or other form of significance, and is legally protected by international treaties.

The sites are judged important to the collective interests of humanity. Most tourists would be over the moon to visit even one or two world heritage sites in their visit. The nine world heritage sites of Ethiopia are given below. The year in the brackets indicate the year in which UNESCO officially granted the place the status of a world heritage site.

Rock Hewn Churches Lalibela (1978):  The site contains 12 medieval rock hewn churches from the 13th century.  They are touted as the 8th wonder of the world. The churches are cut out of sheer rock and in many cases it’s still a puzzle where the rock debris have been deposited.

There are no man made mounds or small mountains which would have been formed due to deposition of the debris. It is said that gods themselves have built these beautiful churches. A visit to the Lalibela churches is on the top most on the bucket list of all the devout orthodox Christians of Ethiopia. Lalibela is 310 kilometres away from Bahirdar.

Fasil Ghebbi, Gondar region (1979): The fortress of Fasil Ghebbi was the residence of Ethiopian emperors during the 16th and 17th century. The city remains, which features buildings with Hindu and Arab influences, were later remodeled with Baroque style architecture by Jesuit missionaries.

Bahirdar was situated on one side of Lake Tana whereas Gondar is situated on the other side.  Gondar was one of the most well developed cities in Ethiopia and had a Government Medical College. Gondar boasted of the second largest expatriate Indian population after, Addis Ababa. It is 175 kilometres away from Bahirdar.

Simien National Park (1978):  The eroded Ethiopian plateau comprises of jagged mountain peaks, deep valleys and sharp precipices dropping about 1500 metres (4900 feet).  Simien National park nestling in the Simien mountains present some of the most spectacular views in entire Ethiopia. Simien mountains boast of the highest point in Ethiopia, Ras Dashen standing tall at 4550 meters above sea level. The jagged mountain peaks are so awe inspiring that they are christened ‘the chess set of the Gods’. Lalibela is 315 kilometres away from Bahirdar.

Tiya (1980):  The archaeological site contains 36 monuments which includes 32 carved stelae covered with symbols hard to decrypt.  Tiya is an archaeological site in central Ethiopia. It is located in the Gurage Zone of the Souhern Nations, Nationalities and peoples, south of Addis Ababa and is 570 kilometres away from Bahirdar.

Aksum (1980): The ruins of the city of Aksum, near Mekele, Northern Ethiopia, dates from the 1st to 13th century and marks the heart of the ancient Ethiopia and what was termed as the most powerful state between Eastern Roman empire and Persia. 

Aksum has monolithic obelisks, giant Stelae, royal tombs and ruins of former castles. The Church of Our Lady Mary of Zion, Aksum is supposed to be the resting place of the Auk of the covenant which originally held the ten commandments that all Christians consider very holy. Aksum is 525 kilometres away from Bahirdar.

Lower Valley of Awash (1980): Paleontological findings from lower Valley of Awash gave the world, Lucy. Lucy, the 3.2-million-year old female fossil is the evidence of the oldest living human being. Lucy in that sense is our mother and all the citizens of the world are her children. Lower Valley of Awash is 380 Km away from Bahirdar, in the west of Afar depression.

Lower Valley of Omo (1980):  The prehistoric site near lake Turkana is the location of many hominid fossil findings, such as Homo Gracilis. Also found are tools made from quartzite, the oldest of which dates back to 2.4 million years old.  Lower Valley of Omo is 554 kilometres away from Bahirdar.

Hara Jugol, the fortified historic town (2006): The city of Harar is on a plateau and is surrounded by gorges and Savannah. It contains 82 mosques, 102 shrines and unique interior design in the townhouses.  Harar is said to be the fourth holiest city of Islam.  The colorful walled city of Harar also boasts of another world famous personality, The Hynea feeding man. The Hynea man feeds hyenas from his mouth.  Harar is 1100 kilometres from Bahirdar and is near Dire Dawa one of the most popular cites of Ethiopia.

Konso Cultural Landscape (2011): The site features 55 Kms (34 miles) of stone walled and fortified settlements in the Konso highlands of Ethiopia. The Konso, a Cushitic speaking people of southwest Ethiopia, are known for their distinctive religious and cultural traditions including their unique funerary rituals involving elaborate music and dance. Konso culture is also famous for its carved wood statues called wagas, which memorialize important people in the community. Konso Cultural landscape is situated 1000 kilometres from Bahirdar.

Apart from the above, there are many other sites waiting UNESCOs nod to be world heritage sites. Even though not on the list the Island monasteries of Lake Tana and the Danakil Depression in Afar region are places that should have automatically be featured on the list.

The islands of lake Tana have some of the most original churches/monasteries in the world and are home to antique Christian paintings, books, and artefacts. They are not museums. They are living churches where faithfuls worship god on a daily basis. Their inhospitable locations have meant that they have been insular to change and have the look and feel of churches of the 10th and 11th century. Visiting them is like being transported back in a time machine. A visit to the paradise lost!

The Danakil Depression is a plain, 200 by 50 km (124 by 31 mi), lying in the north of the Afar region  of Ethiopia, near Eritrea. It is about 125 m (410 ft.) below sea level.

The Danakil Depression is the hottest place on Earth in terms of year-round average temperatures. It is also one of the lowest places on the planet  (100 m below sea level), and is without rain for most of the year. Visiting the hottest place in the world could be an exciting thing in itself. Danakil is also home to two active volcanoes.   

With so many world heritage sites all around us, we were in a quandary. Spoilt for choice!!! We did not know which ones to pick.

99 - Taking Extension Classes at BDU, Bahirdar University, Ethiopian Journey

Indians, especially expatriate Indians who venture out of India tend to be on the lookout to make as much money as possible.  The only legitimate way of earning some extra money was to take extension classes. Getting an assignment to take extension classes was not an easy task and getting them was totally dependent upon the whims and fancies of the HOD concerned.

For the uninitiated extension classes, are sessions that are held on Saturday and Sunday in Ethiopian Universities.  They are called open university classes in India which too are held on Saturday and Sunday.  Mostly from Monday to Friday, sessions are held for regular students.

Extension classes are for part time students and employees who cannot afford to take regular classes. Most of the extension classes are handled by Ethiopian faculty as their salaries at that time were almost one tenth of the salary that was paid to expatriate teachers.

When there was a shortage of faculty or when there was a lack of expertise in teaching a particular subject, the expat Indian teachers too, were roped in to handle extension classes.  

For taking extension classes 800 Birr was paid for each credit hour.  For a three credit hour course the faculty was paid 2,400 Birr which amounted to 12,000 Indian rupees. Decent, it took care of our two months’ expenditure.

I was lucky to get extension classes in all the semesters during my stint at Bahirdar University for which I should be thankful to all my HODs.  One of the most peculiar things about Ethiopian universities was the administrative structure of the academic departments. Most of the Indian teachers had a minimum ten to fifteen years of teaching experience. At the same time their reporting HODs were very young. Many of them were 21 or 22-year-old university graduates.

Sometimes Indian Faculty had to face prickly situations. The student whom they had taught in the previous semester suddenly becomes their HOD. This was quite a situation as one’s student who was a meek and submissive suddenly becomes your boss!! She/he starts monitoring your work, is responsible for the appraisal and yes will even sit on the committee which will decide on the recommendation of the renewal of the contract!!!

Most Indians including me adapted quite well to this scenario. Some expats including Indians who could not adjust were either given marching orders or were allowed to finish the contract and their contracts were not renewed. It was the Ethiopian way of saying “it is my way or the highway”.

I was in for a big shock when I went to take the extension classes for the first time. A classroom which usually holds up to 60 students, had 90 to 100 eager beaver students sitting choc-o-block, Literally cheek-to-cheek!!

It was an amazing sight. The distance from the black board to the first row of students would be 4 feet!  I was paralyzed with apprehension and felt claustrophobic. Most of the students sitting in the front row were young women and they would follow my movements like the spectators following a tennis ball in a stadium. I found the entire experience to be quite nerve whacking.

The worst was yet to come. There was too much dust in the duster and I stepped out of the classroom to clear it. I had a quite peculiar feeling. It was as if someone was drilling into my back. I suddenly whipped around and the sight almost made me drop dead. The entire 90 -100 students had turned left and were solemnly looking at me hitting the duster on the wall just like chicks watching their mother foraging for insects. I did not know what to make of it!

The young women would fidget and they were within touching distance. The teacher can’t make any sweeping comments (pun unintended) or swoosh his arms around. For a faculty like me who likes to walk around and make gestures, it was like being chained to a post. And the collective “Ishh” the sound that the Ethiopian students make to show their consent sounded like leaves rustling in the garden.

I realized the hunger that the students had for education. It dawned on me; the students were neither adept at speaking in English nor were interactive but they were quite brilliant and their hunger for knowledge made them delightful students. The students were paying hefty fees (by Ethiopian standards), sometimes up to 30 to 40% of their annual pay so that they could climb up the social ladder and get better jobs and make their families more secure. I was humbled.

There were fringe benefits of taking extension classes. Padma later remarked that we were getting better services, better prices and quality products in Bahirdar markets.  Most of the people who were working in the restaurants, in the fruit shops, retail outlets and the taxi drivers, maids, many of the non-teaching staff including Ms. Mahider our management department’s typist/secretary were my extension students.

Padma would look piercingly at girls who gave me ravishing smiles and ask, “Are they your Extension students?”. I would nod my head slowly in predicament. There were give or take around 40 – 50 women in a class and many a time I would be handling two to three extension classes. How do I remember faces of 150 young women, whom I see only twice in a week, that too only for two hours?

And to make matters worse their work place attire and the attire that they wore at the university differed. Luckily for me, I could get away talking with a ravishing Ethiopian beauty in Bahirdar. Padma would immediately assume that she was my student!!!

The friendly banter (teasing) that was directed at Indian teachers by the locals too got reduced considerably, for me at least. The rabble rousers were now scared! The tables were turned and the shoe was on the other foot. Their subject evaluation and grades were in my hand. Even Pranav was less targeted. Because of extension classes, I had students all over Bahirdar city. It is a matter of pride that we Indians touched the lives of so many Ethiopians in our own small way.

98 – Police Interrogation – The Case of the Stolen Clothes – Ethiopian Journey

The next day as we were having a leisurely breakfast, there were loud thuds and heavy banging on the front door. I walked out and opened the door and was shell shocked. There was a cobra (Toyota land Cruiser) parked in front of my house and a bunch of cops.

There were at least four to five young cops (may be our constable cadre, any how it was a herculean task to ask their ranks as my Amharic and their English would be at the same level – rudimentary, to say the least). And two or three senior cops. They were all wielding heavy artillery, (pistols and AK – 47s).

A sneaky doubt was forming in my mind. Did something go wrong in the university? Did any of my students complain about the grades awarded? My imagination was running wild.

Seeing my bewildered expression, the senior most cop opened up, “You, Anil??!!” It was more than a question; it was an accusation. “Me, Anil”, I responded sounding as meek as possible.

“Enquiry” he announced in a pompous voice. The realization dawned. Oh Oh, they were here to enquire about the robbery!!! (“but why the excessive force both human and weapons wise?” I asked myself. But who am I in the bigger scheme of things, especially in the matter of Ethiopian law and order).

To protect myself from being the laughing stock of the kable, I invited them in. They reluctantly followed.

Padma and the kids were shocked at the cavalcade. The police force stopped in the verandah. “Here?” was the cryptic question. By now, I was familiar with the Ethiopian short gun version of talking in English. Fire, but fire short…. precise bullets. Talk using as few English words as possible.

I nodded a silent affirmative. The senior cop took over. We watched them open mouthed as he walked up and down the verandah. Padma pointed out the nails from which the clothes line was hung. The Police chief went and peered through the rickety green boundary wall between our house and Chidambaram’s. He was quite annoyed. His annoyance was further enhanced when he looked at our front door. He muttered something to himself in Amharic.

He plonked himself in our bamboo sofa and Padma and I, sat in front of him. “What you lose?” Padma started off, “Anil’s shirt and his favourite pant” “PANT!!??” was the anguished yelp. “Yes” Padma was on a confident wicket, “His favourite pant, this pant was special. It is the pant that he wore on our marriage reception. He had been wearing it for the past 12 years’. She was laying it as thick as possible.

“Favourite pant, wearing it for 12 years!!!” The top cop was wailing. He was nonplussed. “OH MY GOD” I muttered to myself “there is a cultural issue raging on”. “Trouser sir, Trouser” I responded quickly dousing the flames of cultural misunderstanding. I threw an almighty glare at Padma gesturing her to be silent.

Pants for Ethiopians are under garments (underwear) and the district SP would have been shocked that this mad Indian had worn the same under garment for twelve years and that too proudly claiming that it was his wedding pant. “Trouser Sir” I said again “Trouser”.

“Trouser” said the relieved SP. He was clutching at proverbial straws. He made a very dramatic recovery. “Umhh, he said, “What colour?”. “Slate” Padma replied. “Slate? What Slate?!!” “Greyish black” I said in a consolatory voice. “BLACK” he said as light dawned on him.

He quickly made an inventory of lost items. It was a herculean task to describe the clothes. Necessity, the mother of invention took over. Padma brought out similar clothing and showed it to him. The SP very solemnly and quite laboriously scribbled all our lost clothing in a note book. He had the exasperating habit of asking us the brand names of the clothes that we lost.

He frankly did not understand the concept of getting clothes stitched by a tailor and expected us to remember brand names of the clothes. The SP asked Pranav to come. Pranav who was speechless at the sight of the guns came forward. “You” the SP pointed out “You lose anything?” Pranav responded, almost in tears, “My suspenders”. “Suspenders??!!”, the SP queried. 

Presto, Padma ran inside and brought out another of Pranav’s suspenders and showed him. “Anything else?”, “Yes” replied duty conscious Pranav and he noticeably brightened “My Strap Shoes”. “What Strap shoes and what brand?”. This was wearing us down.

We were not able to fathom which was worst: losing our clothes or being interrogated for a long time. Sahithi was scared out of her skin. She kept hiding herself behind her mother. Her worst fears had come true. She was not at all perturbed about the lost clothes. She was petrified at the sight of the tough looking policemen.

“Mitu (Cute baby in Amharic)” said the SP. “You……….”. Before he could finish his sentence, Sahithi burst into tears. She was inconsolable. It took Padma quite some time to cajole her. Later over hot cups of Shai, the SP counselled us.

“You need to be careful. This is Bahirdar and people are very poor. Never hang anything outside in the open. Infact do not even keep anything in the verandah. Keeping or hanging things out is an invitation for the poor kids to come over and steal. You are asking for trouble”. He assured us that he would try his best and promised that one of his team members would keep visiting us in the future too. He said with obvious pride, “You are our guests and are here to teach us and make our country more literate and help us in development. We will take full care of you”.

Saying that, the police party left our house and we let out a collective sigh of relief. It was an ordeal by fire. To cut a long story short, we never again saw the light of our belongings. They were gone forever. But something very significant emerged out of the enquiry. The SP made scathing comments in his enquiry report about the very poor boundary wall between our house and Chidambaram’s and also about our woebegone ‘look at me with a frown and I will topple over’ front gate.

This prompted our house owner to build a solid nine-foot-tall concrete wall between ours and Chidambaram’s and also constructed a thick concrete front wall and fixed a solid metal door with a calling bell and a very secure locking system by the starting of our next contract. Talk about small mercies of life!!!.

97 – Biscuit Factory’s Managing Director, Putting My Foot in The Mouth and Getting Robbed.

The graduating ceremony concluded and there were collective whoops of delight and a sense of accomplishment. Graduation caps were flying everywhere and some were threatening to become deadly missiles. All the teachers including me ducked out of the delightful melee and made a beeline to the watering hole of Bahirdar University – the canteen.

The Canteen had limited seating capacity and most preferred to sit outside, below the majestic trees that towered over.  Peeping from the branches and making noises were Ethiopian Chlorocebus monkeys, languid and serious looking. With reading glasses, on they would uncannily resemble harried professors looking at naughty students.

Padma and I ordered Macato (coffee with milk), Pranav opted for Avocado juice and Sahithi for Mirinda. The drinks were served and the visitors buzzed in! Huge red bees buzzing with excitement.

Pranav, Sahithi and Padma propelled out of their chairs. It was as if they were about to be launched into space! Sahithi gave out an almighty yell. I knew what was happening. I calmly tipped a little Macato into the saucer and all the bees happily zeroed in.

“Listen,” I told my family. “These are semi tame bees and I have not seen them attack anyone, so far. What they want is a little coffee or shai and they would leave you alone” True to my words, the bees continued feasting on the Macato and would buzz around but not bite.

Even though they were harmless, Sahithi was on pins and needles. She wanted to make peace with the bees by offering her Mirinda, but I restrained her. “Little bit of Macato is enough” I told her in my make belief serious voice “They might not like mixing soft drinks with Macato. It might upset their delicate digestive systems”. Sahithi swallowed my banter, hook, line and sinker! Poor girl!

Sun was also out. He was beaming in happiness and was giving off warmth and rays of sunlight were shooting off from the leaves and creating myriad shadows dancing on the floor. It was an idyllic scene – right out of paradise.

Sitting next and observing us was a gentle, suited Ethiopian. He got up, came across, greeted us and sat down with us. He was the Managing Director of a biscuit manufacturing company from Addis Ababa and was one of the invitees for the graduation ceremony. At the mention of the brand name both Pranav’s and Sahithi’s antennae were up!!!. That brand of biscuit was their favourite.

In a country where bland crackers (we called them dog biscuits in disdain) ruled the roost, this brand of biscuit was unique. It was a cream biscuit and the obvious sweetness of the cream was something that my kids loved.

I took off. “Sir” I said “Your biscuits are good, but your quality control leaves lot to desire”. The MD was all ears “Tell me, sir, what is wrong?” The teacher in me was in full flow, “You see; the taste of the biscuits is great. But I have observed that in many cases the rough part of the biscuit is on the inside and the smooth part that should be on the inside is reversed. Aesthetically not very appealing. It reflects poorly on the production process”. I glibly added, “May be your Quality control in-charge needs training or needs better inputs about inspections and rejection procedures” I was gloating. I was like the Cheshire cat that had a bowl full of rich cream and was purring in contentment.

The MD’s face broke out in a cherubic smile. If I had a mobile phone, I would have taken a snap and titled it as the smiling Buddha of Ethiopia. “Most certainly Sir”, he said, “I assure you that your feedback will be taken seriously. We were aware of this problem and recruited a year ago, a senior most quality control expert from” He inhaled a deep breath, looked at me straight in the eyes and delivered the sucker punch “India!!!!!” he concluded dramatically.

My face ashened and I gaped at him like a goldfish sucks in air, when it is abruptly thrown out of the aquarium. It was as if someone pole axed me. I was out for the count.           

After that I was quite subdued. When we started our trek back home the skies opened up and the rain started pelting down. It was like someone hitting us with very small yet sharp stones. By the time we reached home, we were drenched to the skin. Padma hung all our clothes, including the socks and shoes in the verandah.

We retired early and the rain raged on and on and finally stopped by midnight. Next day morning, I was rudely awakened “Anil,” Padma’s voice was trembling in anxiety, “We have been robbed” “Robbed!!!???” I shot off the bed. It was true. Our entire set of clothes, shoes and all other Knick knacks kept in the verandah were gone.

The robbers took the clothes line too. We were shaken by their sheer audacity. The rickety main gate was a push over. The general agreement of the kable was that we should report the crime. I requested my Ethiopian colleague, the English faculty from BDU to accompany me to the local police station. The dye was cast, we needed to report the crime.

The local police station was housed in a ramshackle building. It did not look like a police station at all. It had a mud packed boundary wall. Inside the police station we gave a complaint and the cop in charge said that he would come along with his superiors. Apparently robberies in expatriate houses were taken seriously and the wheels of Ethiopian police machinery started to move ponderously.