Some Thoughts on Ethiopia (from January 1, 2009)

I added Ethiopia to my itinerary largely at the encouragement of a
well-traveled friend who told me that it was perhaps his favorite
country in the world. I am sorry to say that I disagree. I am also
ashamed to admit that I do not seem to be cut out for developing world
travel.

First, the good: the people here are beautiful and very warm. The
children are charming. The landscape is also beautiful, and sometimes
a bit severe. The cruciform church in Lalibella was amazingly lovely,
and I've really enjoyed some of the more horrific paintings in some of
the churches (blue devils, lepers, beheadings, etc.)

Now the bad: the toilets are often so terrifying (even in the hotel
rooms) that I've cut my water consumption by 80%. While I will not
get into details, let it suffice to say that the majority of the
toilets are squats and many of them (1) are never cleaned and (2) do
not flush. The hotel rooms themselves appear not to have been cleaned
for years (if not decades). The food is inconsistent, and for the
most part I have had far better (fresher, spicier, more varied)
Ethiopian food in the US than I have encountered here in Ethiopia.
The roads are very bad, making travel very difficult. And my first
night of camping was spent below freezing in the mountains, in what
even seasoned campers told me was the most difficult camping of their
entire lives.

There is much that is neither bad nor good, just different. As I have
mentioned, the children are lovely. That said, many are also very
poor, and view tourists as a source of money, school supplies, etc.
So, for every charming child that teaches me a few words and giggles
at my accent, there are five who either want to charge me 1 birr (10
cents) for a photo, have me contribute to a fund to replace their
damaged soccer ball (I've heard this story several times, and the
price quoted is roughly $20 USD), or give them pens and paper.
Another interesting thing: although almost every child we drive past
(especially in the rural areas) will wave and smile (I spend hours
just waving at kids, since the roads are too bumpy to do much else),
if you roll down your windows, you'll realize that they are all
shouting "Highland." This is a brand of water, and the children are
soliciting empty bottles, either to use to transport water when
herding cattle (cows, goats and sheep) or to return to the store for
the 1 Birr deposit. It's recycling and I'm totally on board, but it
does tend to make the joyous waves seem a little less genuine.

I am very fond of our guide and drivers, all of whom are Ethiopian
(although we will have a Canadian guide for the last 10 days in the
south). Apparently, western black tourists are rare here (we met 5 in
Lalibela, but other than that, I've been the only non-African black
in the places we've visited). I'm assuming that this fact (as much or
more than my natural charm) accounts for their having taken me under
their wings. As a result, I've learned more Amharric than my fellow
tourists, met many more Ethiopians (friends of the drivers, staff at
the hotels, etc.) and learned a lot more about life here. Which takes
me back to my statement that the people are lovely, and also kind. It
is for that reason that I don't regret coming to Ethiopia, although I
confess that I will be glad to go.