IshiBekaCiao

Reason 237 I wish I spoke Amharic: Our house has been without water for two days.  

But it’s not just us. Much of Addis is also dry because the city has turned the water off for a few days for maintenance work. Apparently, this was announced on local radio and tv so people could prepare . We missed the message – and I feel like we really only have ourselves to blame.

There’s an ongoing joke amongst expats in Ethiopia that the only Amharic a ferengi needs is Ishi, Beka, Ciao – ‘Okay’, ‘Enough’, ‘Bye’. And while these words will get you pretty far –and it would probably be smart to throw in amaseganalo or ‘thank you’ for good measure- there are many days where I lament not knowing just a bit more of the language.

So far I have managed to learn some numbers, some greetings, enough vocabualry to buy vegetables, take minibuses and shoo away persistent street vendors and beggars. I hope to keep learning more before my time is up, but sometimes I think my obliviousness to what people are saying as I walk by them on the street may be a blessing.

Some of my favourite things about Amharic so far…

The quickest way to get a smile from an Ethiopian is to use an Amharic word. It doesn’t need to be in a sentence or pronounced correctly but your almost always guaranteed a positive response (although happiness might take the form of them laughing at you).

Ethiopian greetings sound like the world’s longest run on sentence. Greetings are rapidly said one over another, neither person waiting for the other’s response but rather repeating ‘how are you’ in various forms, alongside some references to God’s grace/will. As a result I have also started doing this English, responding to my colleagues questions of how was your weekend by repeating multiple similar inquiries, with neither of us ever actually answering the question.

My name in Amharic is Rahel – and Ethiopians love to inform me of this fact and are thrilled when I respond to the use of this name. From my side, Rahel sounds much nicer than when they try to pronounce the hard ‘a’ that most non-native English speakers turn into a harsh ‘ee’. It is also considerably easier to remember than my Sesotho name from my time in Lesotho: Nthabiseng.

I cannot read any of the 350+ characters in the Amharic alphabet but I love seeing it anyways. I remember on my first big backpacking adventure around Europe I was thrilled when I reached Bulgaria and had to start navigating Cyrillic script. It felt like travelling was finally starting to a feel a bit more challenging, everything was a bit more lost in translation, and it was exciting. Most days, I still associate this feeling with Amharic writing. The only exception being when I am trying to catch a mini-bus at rush hour and all the locals can read the destination on the small sign fixed to the top of the blue and white van. By the time it has come close enough for me to hear the route being called out a crowd has swarmed the door and there is no chance I am getting on.

Ethiopians will use a quick intake of breath to say yes. As a result they often sound excited and/or surprised about the most basic sentences. And no matter how many times I hear it, I don’t get used to it. Conversations are much more exciting when it feels like people are shocked by everything I say.

Learning the word for intersection – ‘chaf ’ –has dramatically changed my morning commute and ability to pay the correct fare and describe where I want to get out. One word can be a powerful thing. 

 

family

When I move somewhere new, the thing I always struggle with the most is missing family, be it biological relatives or close friends. I've been lucky to have been able to live many places, the downside of which is that some of my most important people are scattered around the world. Living in a new place it always takes a while to start building up a new support network - something which can be particularly frustrating when dealing with all the other challenges of uprooting yourself.

New Years in Ethiopia, like most holidays I've had the joy of celebrating on the African continent,  is all about spending time with family. And so the past few days have really given me the chance to recognise the little bits of family I've been able to acquire over my short time here.

There are my lovely colleagues at UNDP. To celebrate the holiday we shared cake, multiple rounds of coffee, and a lunchtime feast at a local Ethiopian restaurant. Not a single day goes by without someone asking me how Ethiopia is treating me. While I may still be seen as a guest, I'm endlessly appreciative of the kindness that I know I will find in the office each day.

New Years was also celebrated with the staff at the Ibex Hotel - a place that I have come to realise is a bit like my second Ethiopian home. You see, internet in Addis is a hassle. It's expensive and slow and is often not even there. As a result, I have spent a lot of time trying to connect to wifi at the hotel one street over from my house. It's also the location of the closest macchiato, where I had Amharic lessons, and my favourite location to buy alcohol for take-away. So basically the staff know me and my housemates pretty well at this point. On New Years day we ventured over to try to access some free wifi and soon found ourselves the recipients of the lovely gift of a traditional coffee ceremony. The women were wearing traditional clothing, the owner blessed the food, there was incense, delicious coffee, plates of popcorn, and the best bread I've had in Ethiopia. Warm, fluffy and chewy, and swirled with berbere.

And then there is my family of expat friends. We all have different backgrounds but are sharing the experience of being a foreigner living in Addis. They are the people who you can vent to about every tiny thing that drives you crazy about this city without having to worry about offending someone. They are the ones who want to go on weekend adventures, think its a great idea to make a mexican feast for ethiopian new years, and will soon be some of those important people who end up scattered around the world.

Family in Ethiopia seems to be coming in many forms and I grateful for every bit of it.

countdown to 2006

It's New Years Eve in Ethiopia!

Ethiopia follows the Ge’ez calendar, based on the older Alexandrian or Coptic calendar which in turn was derived from the Egyptian calendar. The West’s Gregorian calendar was calculated around A.D. 525 by Dionysius Exeguus, a Roman monk-mathematician-astronomer who based his calculations for the birth of Christ on an erroneous date for the death of Herod the Great. In the East, an Alexandrian monk named Panodorus made some different calculations around A.D. 400 and is the basis for the Egyptian calendar. Next year, on September 12^th because it is a leap year, Ethiopia will celebrate its bi-millennial, or 2,000 years from the Annunciation of Christ.

But this year, we are ringing in 2006. And so for the last few days, my work in-box has been filling up with messages like this:

Ethiopian’s call New Year’s Enkutatash, which means ‘gift of jewls’ in Amharic. The story goes back almost 3,000 years. The Queen of Sheba of ancient Ethiopia and Yemen was returning from a trip to visit King Solomon of Israel in Jerusalem. She had brought King Soloman gifts of 120 talents of gold (4.5 tons) and a large amount of unique spices and jewels. When the Queen returned to Ethiopia, her chiefs welcomed her with enku or jewels to replenish her treasury. This tradition is carried on today with young children receiving gifts of money or bread. Girls gather flowers and sing, boys paint pictures of saints, and everybody goes to church.

I’ve been wondering how Ethiopian New Year will differ from what we celebrate at home. There’s been a buzz around the office all day, the happy anticipation of a day spent celebrating with family and friends. Combined with some sparkly gold cake and the exchange of well-wishes and blessings – the spirit of the holiday feels very much the same.

I’ve heard that there is no countdown, but still a lot of feasting and imbibing. In fact, many people are also taking Thursday as a holiday this year because New Year’s has fallen on a Wednesday, one of the Orthodox church fasting days (so no animal products are consumed). And consuming animals is a big part of the celebration. We received an email at lunch reminding people to pay extra attention on the roads because of traffic jams in areas where animals are sold (ie. most main intersections around town) and at lunch I watched as four sheep were loaded into the trunk of a taxi.  

September has always felt a bit like new years to me, probably from all those years of school starting in the fall. This time around, it also marks the almost half way mark of my time in Ethiopia. And while I’ve never been big on resolutions, a little bit of reflection is always nice. A friend recently posted this, and I liked it. I think I’ll try to keep it in mind over the next months and this new Ethiopian calendar year.

Blue Nile Falls

After a day of relaxation, we were ready to tackle some more public transportation and squeeze a bit more sightseeing in before our flight home. Our destination: the famous Blue Nile Falls or Tis Abay, 'Nile that Smokes'.

First we had to find the bus.

Photo Credit: Michelle Ferng

Then we fought with the ticket touts who were trying to charge us too much for the bus ticket (eventually we simply gave in). Next we waited -providing ample time for the habeshas waiting with us to take some not too stealth photos of the three ferengi girls. I supposed a Canadian, Lebanese and Taiwanese sitting on a local Ethiopian bus doesn't happen everyday. It also gave us plenty of time to make friends with the other ferengis who boarded the bus after us, warning them not to fall into the same ticket trap we did.

Photo Credit: Michelle Ferng

Thanks toYasmine's Arabic skills, the lovely Sudanese couple sitting behind us on the bus joined our little travelling group for the day.

Photo Credit: Michelle Ferng

The hike to the falls took us through some beautiful scenery and across a 17th century Portuguese bridge.

And thanks to the rainy season, there was plenty of water coming over the falls.

 

 Unfortunately it also meant that is started to pour rain right before we arrived at our destination, making the suspension bridge a bit more precarious than usual.

Luckily, we found shelter on the other side. Along with some entrepreneurial locals serving buna and chai.

Photo Credit: Michelle Ferng

We made it back successfully, all a bit tired and wet but some definitely faring better than others...

Photo Credit: Michelle Ferng

We boarded our last crowded bus back to Bahir Dar...

Photo Credit: Michelle Ferng

Arriving just in time to have one final feast where the three of us consumed enough injera to make any habesha proud.

Bahir Dar

Last stop on our whirlwind getaway, was a visit to Bahir Dar, well known for its palm trees and setting right on the edge of Ethiopia's largest lake and the source of the Blue Nile, lake Tana.

We visited the market...

And drank sundowners by the lake...

Awra Amba

After Gondar, we headed south to Bahir Dar. Only a few hours away and opting to save some money we squeezed into one of the 12-seater shared taxis that make up the bulk of public transport in Ethiopia.While a bit uncomfortable, we did get to see a bit more of the countryside as well as make a quick side trip Awra Amba.

Awra Amba is a special village in Ethiopia - often referred to as guided by a utopian world vision. The community was established on the principles of total equality, regardless of gender, age, race, social standing etc. Emphasis is placed on education, hard works and shared responsibility based on ability.

As gender rights is pretty much a constant topic of conversation between my travel companions and I, we all knew that Awra Amba was something we had to see for ourselves.

First stop on the village tour was an introduction to some of the community's guiding principles (handily translated into English for visitors..)

"Doing a women's job does not change my sex, it changes my ignorance"

After the introduction, we toured the local primary school and community library. The curriculum teaches children and adults to write and count alongside discussions of ethics and human rights (with a little Harry Potter on the side). But by far the best part was seeing all the healthy looking children far too absorbed with their games of hopskotch to bother paying any attention to the ferengis who were wandering around.

The homes in Awra Amba all have special cookstoves that are raised from the ground to prevent children (and adults) from inadvertently burning themselves on the fire, as well as chimneys to improve ventilation within the home. Most homes also have small personal looms so families can weave their own fabrics.

The community does not have enough arable land to support itself so one of it's major sources of income is weaving. Men and women work together to weave cotton into beautiful fabrics.

Photo Credit: Michelle Ferng

Photo Credit: Michelle Ferng

The journey to Awra Amba involved a shared taxi-bus, a short bajaj ride, a hitched ride in the back of a land cruiser, and a few kms by foot but it was more than worthwhile to spend some time wandering down country roads, get a snapshot of village life, and hear from some people who are proud of their home and the type of community they are trying to create.