Crawling towards independence
I found a grocery store on the flimsiest of directions (it reminded me of Spain, when you ask someone for directions and all they say is “todo derecho, derecho” which means straight ahead, more or less, only derecho technically means “to the right” and NONE of the streets are ever straight) and successfully bought myself a cartload of liquids for my increasingly sore throat, including mango juice and Italian red wine (Barbera!) It's easier to pick out liquids I can safely identify than solid food, so these comprise the majority of my diet thus far.I am quite proud of this small achievement, to be honest. After making my way through a few back roads, I had to walk about ¾ mile down Bole Road, the major road in my vicinity running from the airport to the city center—this whole neighborhood is named after it, and it is probably where I will end up living, as it’s a safer neighborhood and close to the office. The exhaust fumes form a low-lying cloud over the sidewalk and a strangely neon-adorned mall featuring blonde mannequins in traditional Ethiopian dress along the way. I was attended by various groups of begging children there and back, whom I joked with and asked their names and tried to be kind because I had to smile with them or just start crying. They are evidently hungry and I doubt the pittance of change I gave them will go to food, to be honest; there is a place downtown where I can get food stamps and once I gather the courage to try the crowded minibuses I will go there and stock up. I know I will eventually grow a thicker skin towards this sort of thing but it’s truly heartbreaking; they are so polite and earnest and well-spoken (English is not their mother tongue, either) and perhaps with the pittance of change I gave them they bought themselves some fruit or went to sniff glue…which, while I don’t endorse, I certainly can’t judge. The ravages of polio, vitamin deficiencies, and congenital syndromes are very evident amongst these children. The only actually upsetting encounter was a grown man who disdainfully swatted away a young girl following me and then tried to grab my hand and tell me he loved me. Him I was not overly kind towards, as anyone who knows me can imagine.
Ian sent me a great link from the NYTimes today, so for those of you who haven't caught it:
INTERNATIONAL / AFRICA August 15, 2005 Addis Ababa Journal: 5 Stars for the Soap Dispensers, and the Food's O.K., Too By MARC LACEY A sober business weekly has created a new genre that has become required reading in Ethiopia's capital - restroom reviewing.
I haven't been to a restaurant bathroom yet (in fact, I've only been to one restaurant, and it was quasi-Italian with no bathroom visible) but I will be sure to let y'all know if it's memorable. hehehe.
posted by Margot @ 5:32 AM
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