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.  

Bahirdar - Every market visit was an adventure in itself - Ethiopian Journey - Blog Post - 45

Selling hens, Bahirdar, Ethiopia 

Pranav found Ethiopian chicken dishes to be a big pain. Being an analyst and a great observer, he went up to his mother and said “Amma, there is something peculiar with Ethiopian hens. They seem to have only bones and do not seem to have much meat on them”. 

Poultry Broilers, 7 weeks old 

In a way he was correct. Pranav has been consuming Indian poultry broilers which are hardly four to seven weeks old. No wonder Indian chicken is so tender and the bones so soft and edible. 

Free Range Hens, Ethiopia 

But the Ethiopian hens were free range hens brought up the natural way. They most probably were layers and may be two to three year old before they are brought to the market. That is why the meat was tough and the meat lean. 

Ethiopia was a haven for non-vegetarians who liked meat products. Goats and sheep were available. They were costing around 250-300 birrs and would yield around 12–15 kgs meat. The same rule applied. We had to buy live goat or a sheep and take them home. Seeing the lengthy process of slaughtering and getting the meat, we never brought even one goat or sheep in the entire four year stay at Bahirdar. 

Mansoor and Azaz Ahmed bought them for religious purposes and got them slaughtered using the halal tradition. Even the skin of the dead animal fetched them around 20-30 birrs. So it costed 240 birrs for 12 kgs of meat and it was a great deal. It worked out to 20 birrs or 100 rupees a kg. That was definitely very cheap! 

Dressed Fish

Two kgs of fully dressed fish was also available for around 15-20 birrs. These were fish caught in Lake Tana and sold by the Lake Tana Cooperative Society. The fish was like Indian korrameenu. The fish was easy to prepare and tasty to eat. This was one meat product that we enjoyed, but there was a huge demand and the dressed fish was not readily available. 

The big attraction was freshly baked bread. Locally called Daboo, they were very tasty and incredibly cheap. In 2002, we could get 2-3 daboo for a birr!

Seeing that we had a garden, I was on the lookout for a garden bench. And one day I found out what I wanted in the market. The three seater bench that I found looked strong and sturdy. I was sure that it was expensive. But the bargain hunter in me took over. I slided up to the seller and whispered a conspirational yet tentative “sintenum” in his ears. 

The young boy gave me a strange look and said “Asira Amistiti (pronounced Asara Amist) birrs” or 15 birrs (75 Indian rupees). I almost fainted. Overcome by shock, I sat down heavily on the bench as if to test its strength. It was a throw away price. Those bamboo benches would retail at Rs 1000/- in 2002 and would not cost less than Rs 5000/- in today’s market. I bought two of them. 

I had a problem, how to take them home? Seeing the kids milling around me, I asked “sintenum?” One very thin boy said “Asira Amistiti santim”. This was the second shock. He was asking 75 paisa! He very solemnly walked the entire distance of more than one kilometre carrying both the bamboo benches on his spindle thin shoulders.

Anil in Kable - 7, garden, Bahirdar 

Impressed at his work ethic, I offered to carry one of them! He was horrified and almost started running with the benches. Finally I gave him one birr, a banana and two chapattis. His happiness in receiving them made my day and I wondered why there are so many inequalities between haves and have-nots. Here we have people asking for more and more and there in Bahirdar were small kids getting satisfied and beaming in delight at small mercies of life. 

Bale Rejim Rejim Tse’gurua Setyo - Ethiopian Journey - Blog Post - no 32

The problem with the pink house was that it was not the way we expected. The kitchen was not yet given to us and Padma was forced to cook in the drawing room. And it was quite tough as we did not have the adequate utensils. We decided to go to the main market.

We came out and took the blue and white mini bus. The fare was 55 santims (Rs 2.75). But there was a problem with the mini buses. They would be full of students of PEDA and inevitably there would be at least two or three of my own students. The students would be overcome by awe and shyness but would giggle and stare at Padma. Immediately they would whisper “bale rejim rejim tse’gurua setyo” (thanks are due to Elefachew Mossisa for making me get the term and the spelling correct).

We thought it was quite offensive. But any how there was nothing that we could say or do, we could only grin and bear with it. We got off at the market and went on a shopping spree.

We bought a kerosene stove, kitchen utensils, plastic buckets, mugs and then kerosene. It was refreshing to buy kerosene without a ration card. Then the trouble started. All the earlier shops where we bought were big and the shopkeepers  were polite and would speak a smattering of English. 

The interior shops were manned by Ethiopians who would not speak English. Padma and me started showing them what we wanted and then started buying them in quantities that we wanted. We were getting zipped (over charged) but we had no other way.

And the crowd, they would rally around and imitate our voices and actions. It was a riot. The situation was so desperate that we wanted to give up. Then a voice spoke out “Sir, can I help?” and that too in English! I spun around violently. It was a sight just like seeing an oasis for a person who did not have a drop of water for many days! I gaped at the English speaking Angel!

The person who spoke was Tigist (unfortunately I don’t remember her full name). She was a Marketing Diploma student from PEDA and I was teaching her Sales and Marketing course. She quickly grasped the situation and swung into action. From then on the shopping was smooth as silk.

We would tell her what we wanted and show her the items and Tigist would ask, haggle and buy. I could see the difference. I started spending less and less. What we thought would take us hours got finished in a jiffy. I learnt the magical word “sintenum” (how much) and say ORRO nasally which meant ‘oh no” in a slightly annoyed way. Later I learnt to haggle and say “Habesha, Faranji yellam which meant I am a local and not a foreigner”.

We were feeling thirsty and wanted to have a tea or coffee. I had tea, Padma and Tigist had Avocado juice and it was a herculean task trying to stop Tigist from paying the bill. My extreme big built and the Ethiopian traditional respect to teachers finally made her accept my view point that I should be allowed to pay the bill.

Then the real drama started. Tigist started picking up all our bags! She effortlessly picked up bags weighing well over 20 – 25 kgs. At the same time, she looked expectantly at Padma. We did not understand what was happening.

I tried taking the bags but Tigist would not budge. I got rattled and asked “what is the issue, Tigist? Why are you not allowing me to carry the luggage?”. Tigist wailed “oh teacher, how can I let my teacher and that too a man to carry the bags. That is the work for the women folk”.

I was getting a flicker of an idea! I knew what was happening! In traditional Ethiopia, it is the women who carry the load and the man would saunter ahead and take-in the scenery. She thought it was her duty and was getting puzzled why I was so insistent.

I explained to Tigist that in India it is the man who carries the loads and that woman would walk happily behind and may be help with a small bag or two. But Tigist would not budge. She was adamant. It was a stalemate.

There was no getting around Tigist. The omnipresent crowd materialized. It was a scene from a bollywood movie. It was so dramatic and that too it was between a Faranji and a local Ethiopian girl. 

They must have thought that the Faranji was fighting or harassing the local girl, that too a university student! Some of the young men in the crowd I am sure would have started flexing their mental biceps. They were spoiling for a fight.  The situation was getting out of hand!

We started walking to the bus stand and someone suddenly blurted out “bale rejim rejim tse’gurua setyo”. That was absolutely the final straw. I looked at the crowd and yelled “why are you being so rude, why can’t you leave us alone?”

The crowd fell silent but Tigist was puzzled “why are you shouting at them sir?” I was upset but controlled myself and said “This has been happening all the time since we arrived. We know that foreigners are fair game but this is really too much”.  

Not Padma's Picture 

Tigist’s face broke into one of the most beautiful smile “bale rejim rejim tse’gurua setyo is not making fun sir. They are complimenting your wife. The phrase means lady with long hair. They simply love your wife’s dark black hair”.

Padma at that time had very long and luscious hair that would at least be 4 - 4.5 feet long. For Ethiopians who are used to seeing short and curly hair, long black hair would have appeared lovely and exotic. Not understanding the language can lead to so many problems. So after that whenever someone yelled “bale rejim rejim tse’gurua setyo”, I would grin and laugh but Padma somehow could never get used to all that extra attention. 

The Pink house in Kable - 7, Bahirdar, Ethiopia - Ethiopian Journey - Blog Post No - 29

Wooden Gate, Pink House, Kable 7, Bahirdar 

The first to get a house were Bala and Vasavi. They got a nice house in Kable 13, a good four kilometers from Poly. We were getting desperate as we were not used to living out of a suitcase. And with two kids who had all the time in the world, it was a nerve wracking experience.

Accommodation was not available in the university and even if it was available, it was not being offered to the Indians. We Indians have a very good way of trying to cut each other’s throats. Like the saying goes “we are not worried when we have power cut in our house, we only get worried if there is no power cut in our neighbor’s house!”.

Then it happened! the university officials called me. There was a house available in Kable 7 (Sabat). And it was just a kilometre away from PEDA, my place of work. Excitedly we rushed to the house. At the first look, the house was pretty disappointing. It was a pink coloured house with a tin roof. It had false ceiling made of thermocol sheets. Approximately it would be around 300 square yards in size.

Front door

The house had a quite alarmingly sharp tin gate which had wooden supports and the boundary wall was made of rough stones mounted onto each other rather haphazardously. There one house on its left and it was occupied by an Indian teacher Chidambaram from my own management department and the boundary wall between his house and this house again was a very “you push, I fall” type of apologetic cane partition that was thoroughly soaked in rain and it had a woebegone expression on it.

It was as if it was sorry that it was a boundary wall. In its own view it was not a great boundary wall at all! But it had great pride. It draped itself with a creeper of unknown variety and it always reminded me of a shy maiden peeping behind her green veil.

And the cane wall boundary was tilted and had a huge gap and through it we could see almost the entire portico of the next house!

Padma the ever witty exclaimed “it just looks like our own tadika!’ (a thin a cane  sheet used to protect one from sun and rain in India). She waved an accusing finger at Pranav and said “Young fellow, you better not get rough and fall on it. One fall and it would get smashed. As it is university property, we are not even very sure as how much will be charged from Nanna’s salary as damages”. Even though said in jest, Pranav was suitably impressed. He whispered “amma, I would be careful”

On the right was another house and again the boundary wall made of rough stones and it had many holes and trouble was already brewing. There were at least 3 to 4 kids welcoming us the Ethiopian way – loud shouts and babuji’s were flowing freely. Internally I heaved a huge sigh –the unwanted attention can wear one down. It was so relentless and loud too!

The entire front yard had big rocks and small boulders and there was no garden at all. It was hot and dusty. It was not what we expected. It looked as if we were in rural India and not the idyllic African setting we wanted.

The house had a small L shaped portico and an Iron door. The drawing room had huge glass panes. The house had a decent drawing room and it opened into a small kitchen. The kitchen was occupied by Mulugeta the Kable 7’s watchman. He had his bedroll in the kitchen. The drawing room had a rest room to one of its side and two bedrooms on both sides. It was a small and passable house but we did not like it. The floor of the house was not smooth and it was covered by a synthetic sheet and it had a rough and ready look. And with no furniture it was not a house to look forward to.

We did not like the house and told the puzzled university official the same news. Like most Ethiopians he took the news stolidly and grinned. I understood that he would convey our feeling to the administrative head of the university. 

Mango Park- The pelican man - Ethiopian journey - Blog Post no - 26

Bahirdar by the Evening

Evenings in Bahirdar were pleasant. The promenade from Ethiostar to the mango park was full of huge palm trees and had very moderate traffic. The air was definitely cold and bracing but evening walks were not very strenuous and sweating was one unheard of. We could walk many kilometres without breaking out in sweat.

Lake Tana is the source of the Blue Nile and is the largest lake in Ethiopia. Lake Tana is approximately 84 kilometres long and 66 kilometres wide, with a maximum depth of 15 meters, and is at an elevation of 1,788 meters. Lake Tana is fed by the Lesser Abay, Reb and Gumara rivers. Its surface area ranges from 3,000 to 3,500 km². 

Mango Park, Lake Tana, Bahirdar 

Mango park was a park that was created on the Lake Tana’s front. It was a park of decent size with a nice gallery facing the lake. Visitors could sit, relax, read a book, talk with friends or just nod off to sleep.  There was also a paved path that meandered around the lake for visitors’ who wanted to walk and admire the lake. There was a small cafeteria that served cool drinks, tea, coffee and some snacks.

Pelican in Full Flow 

Lake Tana Video 

A special attraction at the mango park was the pelican man. This Bahirdar resident popularly called the pelican man had been feeding the pelicans for many years and they had become incredibly tame and friendly. They would languidly swim close to the shore, their eyes always watchful to the arrival of their feeder – the pelican man. Woe betide a ignorant tourist who approach the pelicans at their feeding time to take their pictures. 

The pelicans would hungrily descent on the poor man and would rapidly put their very long and sharp beaks enquiringly in the pockets and then thrust their beaks wildly into the air.  They would all the time keep squeaking loudly and complaining about the indignity and injustice meted out to them. This would amuse the locals to a great extent. The pelican man was a very gentle soul and he would accept 5 or 10 birr as feeding donations with a disarming smile.

Lake Tana Islands 

Lake Tana has many mysterious islands that host old and unique monasteries. These lake monasteries have ancient churches and museums that have a treasure of ancient holy books, crosses and other religious artifacts. Interestingly entry to some islands is only for men and for some other entry is only for women. The lake Tana Island  monasteries could be visited by a boat and it would take a full day to cover all the islands.

Boating on Lake Tana 

We could see noisy speedboats, slow moving launches carrying many Ethiopians to Dek, the largest island on lake Tana. The one thing always caught the eye was the small and the precariously fragile looking papyrus boat. 

Papyrus Boat, lake Tana 

Papyrus boats are made of tankwa weed. They looked very fragile but it was common to see as many as five people on a single papyrus boat. A lone wiry boatman fishing in lake Tana in the background of soft lyrical traditional Ethiopian music in the receding sunlight makes for an unforgettable experience.