The countryside is almost sparse, but not quite. It’s covered in teff fields and the lone, sprawling acacia trees. Mud huts dot the roadside and dusty mountains frame the horizon. It looks a lot like I’d expect Africa to look.
Driving here is a different and often terrifying experience. There are no traffic rules except that drivers generally stay on the right side of the road. I say generally because when there’s no oncoming traffic, cars tend to use both sides at their leisure. Cars aren’t the only thing in the road either. Herds of cows, goats, donkeys and horses all meander across the asphalt. Often their direction is unpredictable, you have to pass them carefully lest you hit one and have to pay the animal’s owner in compensation. Even with all of these obstacles, the worst is people. They line the side of the road as if they’re holding some soiree or cocktail party. When you honk at them to get out of the way and drive past, they glare at you as if you’re intruding. The thing that makes these careless pedestrians so scary is the Ethiopian law. If you hit a person and kill them, then you automatically get thrown into jail for fifteen years! This threat is a very real one. In fact, there was a missionary at the guesthouse who’d faced this very dilemma. A few days ago she hit and killed a man on her way back to Addis Ababa. She was thrown in jail for a few nights and then taken to court. The judge found her guilty, yet miraculously let her return to her home country because of all the good work she’d been doing down country. Apparently such exceptions are quite rare. Needless to say, this prospect makes driving less than comfortable.
Our first day in Awasa was basically a tour of the city. It’s smaller and less polluted than Addis. Ben and Kelly live in a lovely little compound with their German Shepherd “Macintosh.” Their neighborhood backs up to a lake bordered with large, flowering trees. This emerald foliage is home to giant hornbill birds and monkeys. Ben and Kelly took us to the open-air market, since Thursdays are market days. It was dusty and hot. The sun was blazing down. We quickly collected a spectatorship of street children. They trailed us from stall to stall, doing nothing but staring at us. I almost preferred it to the alternative. Lots of people will shout out as we pass, “You! You! You!” or “Ferengie!” After a while the accosting gets rather exhausting. At times it can feel almost hostile. I much prefer the Korean way of handling things, where staring at people is rude and raising your voice a decibel over conversational level in public is considered very rude.
It’s odd to see the wildlife here. Animals you’d expect to be caged up in a zoo roam quite freely. Monkeys, birds every color of the rainbow and hippos have all been on our sighting list. All of these within the limits of the city. Kelly and Ben took us to a local monkey hang out. We brought stale cookies and fed them by hand. They walked up in a very dignified fashion and take the cookie straight from your grasp. The oreos were their favorite. They would take special care to lick the cream.
Contrary to popular belief, we haven’t just been sightseeing here. The Taylor work for a foundation called “Water is Life,” which organizes the installment of freshwater pumps in poor, rural communities which don’t have access to clean water. David and I have been traveling out to the well sights, gathering photography and writing material to help out with the organization’s media needs. David is taking pictures for their brochures and newsletters while I’m writing up snapshots on how the well has impacted peoples’ lives. It’s been pretty cool. I’ve never done something quite like it before.
Visiting the wells was a bit overwhelming for me at first. One of our first stops was at a Compassion school, where over 300 kids use the well during school hours. We got there just as the kids were getting out of classes for the day. It was a mob. Literally. Children pushing and shoving each other to get close to us. My braid kept getting tugged by kids who wanted to feel my hair. My arms were pinched to the point of pain by curious fingers. I don’t do too well under attention… and the rapt, intense attention of almost 300 kids was nearly stifling. It’s not like I could avoid it either. Any way I walked, the crowd of children migrated along with me. At some points it got so bad that some of the school officials had to drive them back with sticks. In some ways I imagine it’s what celebrities must feel like when mobbed with fans and paparazzi.
The kids were really sweet though, and it was pretty cool to be able to see a Compassion project in action, since we sponsor children through that organization. There was one point in the visit that was a little heartbreaking. One of the little boys was crying, and our translator Yar asked him why. Apparently he’d lost his pen, which meant that his family would probably beat him when he got home. I was about to give him mine (I’d finished with my notes) but Yar slipped him a few birr before I could. I ended up giving my pen to one of the other kids. It’s funny how an item that is essentially worthless to us is so incredibly valuable to them.
Happy Birthday David!
We visited a lot more well sights in Longano… I’ll post my finished writing product on those in a few days once David gets all the pictures and stuff ready for it.
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