82 - 4 kilos, 5 kilos and 6 kilos, 'Arat Kilo, Amist Kilo and Sedist Kilo' the poplar hangouts of Addis Ababa - Ethiopian Journey - Blog Post no - 82.

Arat Kilo to Piazza Video 

The next day was 17th March and it was the Indian festival, Holi. We tend to take things for granted when they are easily accessible and yearn for them once they are not. One might have all the money in the world but we can’t get the gaiety, colour and drama of an Indian festival anywhere outside India. 

NRIs might celebrate Indian festivals with pomp, glory, show of class and with richness but with no soul. Indian festivals have to be celebrated in India, period. Holi is celebrated in the Indian Embassy but we were not really in the mood. We were anxious to see with our own eyes Pranav and sahithi’s school for the next four years. 

Early morning Cuppa, Addis Ababa

Mr. Pradeep arrived sharp at 08:00 a.m. and his early arrival caught us napping. Padma and the kids were not ready. Pradeep and me went out to have Shai (tea). Addis Ababa looked like a scene out of an African paradise. Misty, surrounded by mountains and mysterious low hanging clouds that seemed to rub and wanted to envelop us in their cold embrace. Very few street side venders were up and about.  We had to walk quite a distance before we could get a cup of Shai. 

Early morning scene, Addis Ababa

Addis Ababa the capital of Africa as it proudly calls itself is a truly global city. Citizens of Addis are curious about Indians but mostly we were ignored. Some Ethiopians do give a shy smile and some brave hearts do come and shake hands and say “Thank you, Indians are great teachers. My mathematics teacher was from India and he was a wonderful teacher”. Our chest would swell in pride at their generous praise. 

We returned and waiting at the entrance of our room tapping her feet impatiently was Ms. SAHITHI. Drawing up to her full height that her two-and-a-half-year frame could allow, she announced tartly “We are ready and waiting for you.”. I was shell shocked. We did not teach her to speak in English. Seeing her annoyance and pert manner, Pradeep sir was totally taken by surprise. He complimented us on our children’s upbringing. 

Blue and white Line Taxis 

We took the blue and white sharing cabs that were quite popular in Addis Ababa. These beaten up cabs afforded a decent and cheap form of intra city travel. The local city buses were legendary. The cost of travel was dead cheap but travellers are packed to the gills and things can get claustrophobic. We were told that even breathing can become quite tough in peak time travel. The threat of deft pick pocketers getting busy picking our wallets was always lurking in the back of our minds.  One van took us to Arat Kilo and another took us to Piazza. 

Crowded City Buses 

We had to walk hundred yards before the Indian School appeared. First look was quite disappointing. It was an old building. It had a sign on the arch above the gate ‘Indian National School, Addis Ababa, established in the year 1947’, written both in English and in Amharic. This is the school that served the educational needs of Indian and Ethiopian students too. If it was not for the Indian school not many of the Indian families would even, consider coming to Ethiopia. It was the Life-line for Indian children to pursue CBSE education and that too from a foreign country. 

The school was closed but the examination schedule was pasted on the notice board. English on the 18th of March, Hindi on 19th, Mathematics on 20th, Social on 21st and finally Science on the 22nd. Written quite clearly and in big font and size was the examination fee. “External students have to pay examination fee of 140 birr (Rs seven hundred)”. 

Arat Kilo

Pradeep could not hold it any further. He blurted out “Anil Ji, I wanted to ask you. Any particular reason for staying at Bel-Air?”. “Not really sir” was my surprised reply “I find it quite inconvenient and cut off. Away from even small restaurants and shops. The only saving grace is that they allow us to cook”. 

Arat Klo 

“Oh, Oh” Pradeep gave a sympathetic nod “you guys can’t survive without rice”. Padma was offended “not really sir. We can happily eat Injira” “In that case, madam, let us try out Tourist hotel”

We got into a taxi and got off at Arat Kilo. Arat Kilo is Meyazia 27 Square, a square in Addis Ababa as famous as the Times Square, New York. In its centre is the famous monument, commemorating Ethiopia's liberation from Italy. 

Due to its proximity to the Menelik Palace, residence of the Prime Minister of Ethiopia, and the Ethiopian Parliament Building, Arat Kilo is one of the most popular tourist spots of Addis Ababa. 

Arat kilo was buzzing with action. Small shops all-around and hundreds and hundreds of shoe shine boys merrily going about their business. On one side were Ministry of Education’s main offices and bang next to it was TOURIST HOTEL. 

Tourist Hotel, Arat kilo

We went inside and were shocked. The reception area was buzzing with Indians. We could spot at least 3 or 4 Indian families and trailing in their wake were school going children. It was quite clear that TOURIST HOTEL was the preferred destination for Indian teachers in Ethiopia.  

The receptionist gave a beaming smile and apparently she knew Pradeep quite well. “Yes sir, we do have a single room and possibly you might even get a double room by tomorrow”. Seeing our somewhat puzzled faces, she triumphantly added “our restaurant serves, Indian food”. 

“That is fine”, I responded “Sintenam”. The lady did a double take. She immediately became a little less patronizing. My Sintenam caught her in the solar plexus. “30-birr sir” she humbly replied “and 45 for a double room”. 

We welcomed her offer. We were paying 70 birr in Bel-Air and that too in a remote location. We liked tourist hotel. It was modern and looked well organized. Yes, in 2003 it had common restrooms but unlike Indian restrooms, the restrooms at Tourist hotel were quite modern and well maintained. We quickly paid a day’s advance and took possession of precious single room. 

13 - Getting a first hand taste of the rough and tumble of Ethiopian street life - Ethiopian Journey - Blog Post No - 13

God's own "Sun Burnt People"

Watching us from the side was Tadesse Getahun the hotel Manager. He was very friendly. During one of his conversations he told me that he had visited Delhi, India. I asked him what he liked and disliked. Tadesse gave it a serious thought “Most things I liked, population is very big, very crowded and people are very smart. Every one appears to be busy and Indians are hardworking”.

He took a deep breath and blurted out “Delhi was pretty rude to us. They called us Darkies!”. “Darkies” He sputtered “We Ethiopians are not uniformly dark. Some of us are fairer than you Indians. In fact I find many Indians darker than us” It was good reasoning. He also added “Indians call our Country Ethopia or even worse Utopia. It is  not either. Our country is Ethiopia and we are extremely proud of it”. He stood tall and was strutting like a peacock, I liked his attitude. 

Tadesse told me a story that was both amusing and illustrative at the same time. God was busy baking human beings.  The first set of people came out pale and very light skinned. God did not like these people and in a fit of rage threw them on earth. The fair skinned landed in Europe and USA and they became the modern fair skinned Anglo Saxons. God baked a second set and it was over cooked. They were very dark skinned, had squat features, thick lips and were a thick set of people. God in fury threw them on earth and they landed in Africa.

The third time around god was extra careful and lovingly baked a third set. They came out perfectly. “These are the perfect human beings” God exclaimed.  He searched an area on earth to place them. The high lands meant that the second set of people could not fall in Ethiopia. So god lovingly placed the perfect set of people in Ethiopia and fondly called them “Sun Burnt people”. Not too dark not too fair! I think that was a wonderful tale from a crafty and skillful story teller, Tadesse Getahun!

Getting bored in the hotel, I stepped out. Outside the scene was crowded and quite chaotic. There were many small children and young men loitering around. There were at least twenty to thirty shoe shine boys and they all had customers ready. Getting Shoes shined, it looked was the national pass time in Addis Ababa!

Shoe Shine Boys 

The minute the children and the young men saw me, they got triggered. They hollered “Babuji, Hind”. This was repeated with deafeningly increasing decibel levels. Others were not to be put down. They kept screaming “Firanj, Firanj, Shah Rukh Ka, Rani”. I tried to ignore them. The small ones knew their game, They kept saying “You, You, You, You,……..”. It was disheartening and very irritating. I tried to get used to it but these kids were on, continuously. The attention was totally unwanted and unwarranted. Now I know how the celebrities feel when they are chased by the paparazzi.

I came back to the hotel and asked my friend what it all meant. Tadesse heaved a deep sigh “Ethiopians are very poor. We have very high rate of unemployment and even when both the parents work, it is difficult to make both ends meet. Government School system is not very robust and most private schools are unaffordable. All this means that the children are left to themselves and they get amusement by teasing the foreigners.”

Ethiopian kids and Foreigners 

I asked him what all the terms meant. Tadesse explained “Babuji is from Indian movies and even could be a reference to Mahatma Gandhi. Hind is a short form of Hindustan. Firanj is an Amharic word for a foreigner”. According to Tadesse, Hindi movie blockbusters had a huge impression and they would refer to Indian men as Shah Rukh Kha and Indian women as Rani as in Rani Mukherjee.

shah Rukh Ka and Rani 

“Wow” I said  “Not bad to be compared with Shah Rukh Khan” I started preening myself. Tadesse brought me to earth with his crushing reply “My friend. For these kids all Indian men irrespective of age, colour, hairy or bald, lean or fat, all of you are Shah Rukh Kha and all Indian women are Ranis”. I was truly deflated.

Foreigners in India are treated as demi gods. We ogle at them and go out of our way to please. We accost them and ask questions like “Where are you from? Are you married? How many children do you have? Is this your husband/wife? What is your salary?” We go out of our way to make them feel important. Their fair skin makes us feel that they in some way superior to us.

Ethiopian behaviour is exactly in reverse. As they were never colonized they harbour a healthy dose of distrust and skepticism for foreigners. Foreigners are not put on a pedestal. They are infact teased to no end. It is as if to say “You came to my country as you did not get good opportunities in your in own”. Even after four years, the constant ribbing on the roads was a big pain. You get used to it but the attention is never wavering and we always had a set of children following us and yelling “You, You, You”. All the time!

Blue and white taxis

Local transport is very unreliable in Addis Ababa. Most people rely on mini taxis or minibuses. These minibuses can seat at most twelve people but enterprising owners can squeeze upto fourteen by using small stools. Most travelers bear with the discomfort as the distances are short and city buses are overcrowded and are quite irregular. Two people are responsible for each taxi, the driver and a Weyala who collects fares and calls out the taxi's destination. The Weyala would hang out precariously from the mini bus and scream “Arat Kilo, Arat Kilo” a land mark in Addis Ababa. He would briskly spell out the fare “hamsa ammest” or 55 santim. (One birr = 100 santims).

The blue and white mini taxis or mini buses were beat up trucks that were imported from the Middle East. Most of them were past their sell by date, needed lot of servicing and frequently broke and caused trouble and heart burn to the bus owners. Luckily by 2009, 2010, local entrepreneurs introduced the three wheeler autos from India. As they have never seen three wheeler autos the Ethiopians started calling them ‘Bajaj or Bajaja’ after the company that markets them – The Bajaj company!  

Bajaja

Bajajas are so popular in Ethiopia that they are slowly but steadily replacing the aging mini buses and they are now the life line of Ethiopian local transport. The Bajaja drivers are a grateful lot as Bajaj three wheeler autos are maintenance free and give good income to their owners. India should be proud for providing these three wheeler autos and help solve the transport problem of Ethiopia. At the same time Bajajas are providing livelihood to many Ethiopians. The only thing that I would miss is the lively, impish and cheeky Weyala!