Eid
Yesterday was Eid, the end of Ramadan, the month of fasting for Muslims. The timing of Eid is determined by the phase of the moon, so we weren’t sure it would be Eid until the imams had decided that, indeed, the moon was full, by around 8 PM on Wednesday night.I woke up early, thanks to my inability to breathe, and it was cold in the house, this month being what passes for “winter” here. As I curled up on the couch with my laptop and a pile of tissues it felt like I was having a snow day, only…not. More like a riot day. This surreal sensation only increased as I tried to work on graduate school essays due Friday, writing about superficial things, my brief experiences in life, as if these were important and mattered to the world.
Because of this holiday and the violence, all businesses were closed, and the city had the empty feel of an Ethiopian holiday, except for the notable absence of all minibuses, taxis, and buses which usually congest the streets of Addis. Taxi drivers played a major role in the protests (the “honking protests”) and thus were targeted for arrest by the police. People had to walk everywhere, once it was determined that is was safe to go outside again. There was some disturbance in the morning over in Old Airport, but everywhere else was quiet, as far as we could tell. We went up to Arat Kilo, the site of some of the riots yesterday, and didn’t see anything, besides the hordes of various policemen, federal, local, military—although in bordering neighborhoods, roadblocks, burning tires and buses were still in place, as well as huge boulders blocking the roads. Tomorrow, we were told. Tomorrow there will be trouble again.
Maybe this day of rest is a good thing—a day of spreading the word, of planning, organizing, or fleeing—a day of mourning the over 30 people killed yesterday—a day for human rights attachés in embassies to gather information and try to convince the world to care. Apparently things are heating up with Eritrea again as well, which promises to make the battle for attention difficult. Some think Meles is provoking the Eritreans in order to distract from the oppression in other areas, some think Eritrea is taking advantage of the internal dissent to launch an attack. Perhaps everyone is right.
The way people talk about their situation here contains new undercurrents of feeling for me. Despite widespread disillusionment with American government, most people in the States have some sort of faith or hope in our process and our ability to recover, progress, move ahead…We have much invested, much to risk, and much to lose. Here, there is hopelessness, and its sister desperation. There is an unshakable belief that there is nothing redeeming about the government, and that just like past governments, it is simply here to oppress the people. Why not fight, why not disturb the so-called “peace”? There is nothing to lose. Nothing will get better; there will be no justice; there will be no progress.
And, I have to say, one can’t counter this with any misplaced optimism. This certainty is based in historical reality, in personal experience, in logic. The educational system in Ethiopia now is worse than it was 30 years ago, as are the environment and food situations. Maternal mortality, a major poverty and development indicator, has not changed much in 50 years, and remains one of the worst in the world.
The incredible sacrifices people make to emigrate are starting to make more sense.
posted by Margot @ 3:56 AM
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