89 - Anasuya Aunty’s visit and Surprise of surprises at Mercato – Ethiopian Journey.

10^th October is the big day as far as this blog is concerned. It was 10^th October 2017, when I wrote the first blog post, titled “The genesis – Ethiopian journey – Part – I”. I   made a mental vow. That I would blog daily and that I would limit myself to 500 words per blog post.

Let me admit I was way off the mark on both counts, guilty as charged!!!  I could blog only 88 times instead of the self-promised 365 times and my average word count is 917 words per blog against 500 words. 365 blogs @ 500 words would have meant 1,82,500 words. I have so far reached 80,661 words to pen my 88 blogs. 

So much for the statistics of my one-year journey. The next interesting event that we were all anticipating in July 2003 was the visit of Padma’s mother Mrs. Anasuya Devi Matam. Anasuya Aunty lived in the USA along with her second son, Matam Sai Prasad, a well-known Software Engineer. Anasuya aunty’s elder son Luke (Srinivas) Matam also lived in the USA.

Aunty had her life cut out for travel! Her daughter was in India till 2002, and both her sons were in USA. But our going to Ethiopia changed it all. Now her relatives near and dear were in India, sons in USA and daughter in Africa. She was literally straddling three continents; Asia, America and Africa (Triple A, what a coincidence!). Aunty was made of very sterner stuff! She wanted to visit us, come what may! She did not want to miss seeing her grand children growing up.

A plan was made for her to visit Bahirdar, Ethiopia. The plan hit a stumbling road block. Sai told us that the air fare from SFO (San Francisco) to Addis Ababa were way too expensive.  A ticket from SFO – Hyderabad – Mumbai – Addis Ababa was cheaper than SFO - Addis Ababa. It was decided that Aunty would come to Hyderabad, India and from there come to Addis Ababa and then to Bahirdar.

The first part of the plan went as per schedule. Aunty landed in India and was overjoyed to see her relatives and friends. The information about her arrival was conveyed to us through ‘rock(et) communication’.

Our Rocket communication was the joke of entire Kable 7. In 2003 landline phones were rare in Bahirdar and luckily for us Kuldeep had one and his house was right behind ours. Whenever he received our telephone call from India/USA he would throw a small rock onto our roof. As the roofs were all make of tin, the falling of the rock made quite a noise. A falling rock meant a telephone call. We would lock the house and make a quick beeline to receive the rare telephone call from India/USA.

We were told, when aunty would come to Addis Ababa and Padma and me made suitable plans. Padma and the kids were quite keen to come to Addis but I convinced them (may be prophetically) that I would go alone. I told Padma quite jovially “You better stay here. May be some information might come in from India/USA”.

On the day before Aunty was supposed to come, I went to Addis Ababa by the trusted Cobra (Toyota Land Cruiser). By now I got used to the dusty and bumpy road travel and with a handkerchief draped on the face the journey was bearable.

I landed in the evening in Addis and took a room in Tourist Hotel, Arat Kilo. It was quite spacious for a single person. The tiresome travel and the delicious Bayenetu (Injera served with Vegetables) had me nodding off to sleep in no time.

The next day dawned quite chilly. I had to spend the entire day as Aunty’s flight was only expected at mid night! I went to the local Ethiopian Airlines office and booked two tickets, for the next day morning. Spending an entire day in Addis Ababa was not a big deal. I went to Mercato, the biggest open air market in the world.

Unlike the nay sayers Mercato is very safe. Obviously we need to take care of our wallets just like any other city of the world. Unfolding in front of me were unbelievable items and products that I was totally unaware off.

I stopped and gazed at a beautiful article, the size of a small water melon. It looked very fragile and had stunningly beautiful Ethiopian motifs painted on it. I took this quite peculiar article in my hand. I thought it was made of wood.

To my surprise it was hollow and light. “What is it?” I asked in wonder. “Yesegoni Inikulali” was the impudent answer. Inkulal as we spelt it, I knew was an egg. Then it dawned on me, I was looking at the biggest egg that a bird could lay – An ostrich egg!!!

The discovery stunned me. It was totally unexpected. Seeing an ostrich egg itself was rare and here I was looking at an ostrich egg transformed into an art piece. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The enterprising youngster made a small incision at the base of the egg and sucked out all the liquid.

Then he sealed the hole and painted beautiful tales from the bible. The huge challenge would have been to bring symmetry and structure to a painting on a curved surface. I had never seen anything as artistic as the painted ostrich egg in my hands!

Then the battle started. I asked the rate. It was 500 birr. I rolled my eyes up, made a noise as if a scooter was revving up. I said “Orroo! Habesha, Firanji ilem (hold on, hold on, I am a local not a foreigner)”. I quoted 50 birr. The vendor was not impressed. He sat on his high horse. “400 Birr” was his snarling reply, as I made a hasty get away. I was almost ambushed 100 metres away. “how much, how much” he was demanding. “80 birr, 80 birr (Rs 400 or roughly 8 dollars at that time)” I said, sounding more confident than I felt.

With a disgusted look, he shoved the Ethiopian egg roughly into my hand and I paid him his eighty birr. It was a damn tough task to get the fragile egg back to my room. I had not carried any bag and the Indian carrying an ostrich egg in his hand and dexterously maneuvering it through the crowds and protecting it as if his life depended on its survival must have made quite an impression on many Ethiopians.

It was almost 5 p.m. by the time I reached Tourist hotel and I have to wait for seven more hours before the flight landed from Mumbai. I went to room and tried to relax, but I was as tense as a coiled spring.  I was good to go.

Mercato – The Market Place – Ethiopian Journey – Blog Post no - 44

The big shock was the market place. It was the market of all markets. The market was quite primitive and had very few vegetables to offer. We had the choice of only four vegetables namely potato, tomato, cabbage, carrot and onion.  The greens that we could buy were very large mustard leaves and a green vegetable that resembled palak and the size of the leaves were quite large.

Addis Ababa being the capital had a great range of vegetables available but the huge distance between Addis and Bahirdar, a one day journey on roads that take heavy toll on vehicles and on people as the roads were rugged and the route had very steep climbs and entailed crossing the Nile Gorge meant that other vegetables like Brinjal, Okra, Beans were a rare treat.  Indians visiting Addis would bring in limited quantities as most Indians used flights to travel between Bahirdar and Addis and vice-versa. We treasured and used them sparingly.

Bananas, Guavas, Papayas and Mangoes were available but the mango had a very peculiar taste. It was fibrous and not very sweet. Being spoiled on bangenappali and rasalu, the Ethiopian mango was a tough fruit to crack. Also available were Ochollini (peanuts). Ochollini available in Bahirdar were giant sized. Roasted, peeled and salted, these Ochollini made a tasty and delectable snack.

I also learned to use limited Amharic words, useful in the market place. The most important word was “Sintenum (how much in Amharic)” and “ORRORO” said in a disapproving and guttural voice when someone quotes an exorbitant price. Usage of Amharic words surprised the vendors who would first be zapped but would later break into shy giggles!  

We quickly learnt that we need to have our own kitchen garden. Padma sowed rajma seeds and in no time we were getting the Rajma beans that were used like normal beans. We also started growing ridge gourd. Suresh, our friend from POLY, gave us totakura and he generously gifted the same to the entire Indian community.

We learnt to share whatever little garden bounty that we had with the Indian community and that gave us great pleasure to give a little part of India to our fellow Indians living so far away from homeland.

We could get 3 Inkulalas (eggs) for 2 birrs. The eggs were country eggs, small and tasty. 

We could also get hens for 10-15 birrs, but the chickens were country hens and we had to buy them live. It was quite a messy job to slaughter and clean them. Seeing all this process Padma, a vegetarian was not at all keen on buying. We bought hens only on very rare occasions and got them slaughtered by maids for parties hosted by us.

Party hosting for a mixed group of Indians and Ethiopians threw up a peculiar challenge. We had to prepare three types of cuisines, Indian vegetarian, Non vegetarian halal meat dishes for Indian and Ethiopian Muslims and Jhatka meat dishes for Ethiopian Christians. Muslims would not eat Jhatka meat and correspondingly the Ethiopian Christians would not consume the halal meat.

All the dishes have to be marked separately and in a place where we had limited cutlery, it was a huge logistical nightmare. In the end Padma gave up and concentrated in hosting parties where we served purely Indian vegetarian dishes. 

16 - Bahirdar - By the side of the Sea - Ethiopian Journey - Blog Post No - 16

Bahirdar City, Gojjam, Amhara region, Ethiopia 

By the time we settled down it was almost 6 p.m. We set out for a walk. It was cold. We had taken precautions and were wearing woollens. Ethiostar was in the heart of the city. Right in front of Ethiostar was the Amhara Parliament building. It was an imposing building with many beautiful statues on the front facade.

Very close to Ethiostar was POLY, the engineering division of Bahirdar University. PEDA, to whom I belong was around two kilometers away. Walking on the roads was a very pleasant experience. Not many people but lots of love birds. We quickly came back. Dr. Naidu, Associate Professor from the Mathematics Department had dropped in for a visit.

Dr. Naidu was a legend in Ethiopia. By 2002 he had already finished three contracts. He could speak Amharic quite well and was quite adapted to the local culture and customs. He would become our community elder – someone like Peddarayadu.

Addis Gedefaw, HOD Management Department 

The next day morning, we decided to take things into our own hands. Dr. T. N. Murthy, Dr. Srinivas Inguva and me headed out to PEDA. The way to PEDA was quite dusty and we had to take a short cut to reach the University. It was a nice stimulating half an hour walk. We made our way to the Management Department/Accounting department.  Dr. T. N. Murthy and I, met Addis Gedefaw, the Head of the Department. She received us very warmly. She said “You came in quite early. We were not expecting you for atleast another week”. She told us subject allocations will be done shortly and that she will inform us when they are finalized. She directed us to the admin department so that we could get our University identity cards and start working.

We came back to Ethiostar and headed for lunch. It was more of the same! All Ethiopian cooks appear to cook the same way. We ordered for rice and after lots of gesticulations and mime asked for  some tomato curry. One hour passed and we were not getting any food! Luckily for us Suresh dropped in and went to the kitchen to investigate. He came back and told us that there was only one cook who could prepare ‘Indian speciality of rice and tomato curry’. He has gone out and there was nobody else who could prepare our dishes!

We either have to wait or lump it! Out of desperation we ordered Inkulal curry (Omelette) and Avocado juice. Avocado juice was tasty and very filling. Pranav finished the Avocado juice and wolfed down the Omelette. Suresh was watching on with his mouth wide open in astonishment “Sir” he whispered in a low tone “that omelette had six country eggs! It was meant for the entire family. Do you think, he can digest it?”

I assured “I don’t think we need to worry. He washed it down with avocado juice”. Suresh was almost wailing “that is the problem sir. Avocado juice is very filling. And your son had an ample dose of both. Avocado juice is not like butter milk that will lighten the stomach. It will make it even more heavy”.  I started watching Pranav from the side of my eyes. He did not appear any worse for the wear. He was happiness personified.  

I went out and ordered thumb nail photos for university ID card. “Mister” the owner told me “come at 12 o'clock in the evening to collect your snaps”. My Blood Pressure shot up "what do you mean 12 clock in the night. I will definitely not come at 12 o'clock in the night to collect my snaps’. I could picture myself sliding and shuffling along fugitively, giving sneaky looks on all sides and collecting snaps dead in the night.

The owner was puzzled. He gave a quixotic look “Mister, I said, 12 o’clock in the evening" He glared at me.

I gave up. As I was returning from the photo shop, I saw a poster “13 months of sunshine and below, it was written, welcome to 1995!”. Then it struck me. Oh yes, Ethiopian calendar was seven years behind the English calendar that we follow.

I burst into our hotel room. My family was startled at my excitement. “is everything all right” Padma enquired anxiously “rocking, rocking” I assured her. “Nothing to worry. Do you know Ethiopia makes you younger? Now both of us are seven years younger, and we are back to 1995!”. I Looked at Pranav, gave him a-all-knowing wink and added “Pranav you are back in 1995, that will make you a seven-month old boy. Better behave yourself kiddo”

I and Padma walked out to the balcony and were admiring the scenery. Suddenly we heard loud shouts and then a steady wail coming from the hotel room. We rushed in ashen with fear. The scene inside stunned us. Pranav was seated in a chair and there was a 'cat who had all the cream' look on his face.

He looked smug and contented. On the bed was my two-year-old daughter Sahithi. She was  sobbing inconsolably. After lots of threats, inducements and cajoling, she stopped. We asked “Sahithi, what happened?”. Still sobbing she replied “Anna told me that all our ages go back by seven years. I am born in 2000. What will happen to me? I don’t even exist. Will police arrest me? Can I ever go back to India? If I had known that, this was going to happen, I would have stayed back with nannamma and tatagaru”. She was hurt and disgusted!   We kept a straight face with lot of effort. We dare not burst out in laughter. The poor girl was already in lot of trauma.

I went to the hotel receptionist and complained that the photo shop owner wanted me to come at 12 o' clock in the night. “Oh sir” he burst out. But he must have said 12 o'clock in the evening”. I was getting fed up. “what 12 o'clock in the evening?  how can you have 12 o'clock in the evening”?

The hotel receptionist explained to me “Sir, Ethiopia follows the sun as the criteria for setting the time, Unlike Europe where the day starts at 12 o'clock at the stroke of midnight, In Ethiopia time starts with the sunrise. So when the sunrises it is zero hour. So when it is European 7 o’clock in the morning it is 1 o'clock for us Ethiopians. So when it is 6 o'clock in the evening for Europeans it would be 12 o'clock in the evening for Ethiopians”.

“Oh boy” I said to myself “This really takes the cake. Now I have to struggle with three times. The Indian standard time which is 2.5 hours ahead of the European or GMT and also this new Ethiopian time”. I Sincerely hoped that I could manage so much complexity.

I brightened up and asked the hotel receptionist “I heard that there are thirteen months in a year in an Ethiopian calendar. That is nice. I can work for twelve months and get thirteen months’ salary”.

The receptionist gave me a strange look "oh, the thirteenth month is only a book adjustment. Those five or six days are only to bring the calendar back to normalcy” He gave a very broad and toothy smile “I assure you sir, you will only get twelve months’ salary”.