Cold Showers, Warm Milk

(Saturday, 17 September 2005)

Well, what shall I report since the New Year?

Early in the week I made a trip into the field, similar to the trip I took the week before. The first trip I made with Alemu, the second with my house-mate Gimetchu. Gimetchu has less experience driving than Alemu, and wasn't comfortable taking the wheel down the roads we would have to travel. This, of course, left me as the driver. Now, I know what you're thinking. 'Does he have a license to drive in Ethiopia?' And, of course, the answer is no. I specifically asked when still in Addis if I should get a license, and the consensus was no. I think, however, this had more to do with saving the 50USD and less to do with not wanting me to drive. I am asked, in fact, to drive quite a bit. Driving is a rare privilege here, and even those with licenses often defer to a foreigner, as the locals are uncomfortable behind the wheel.

Needless to say, every soldier we passed made my heart beat faster, knowing they would pull over the foreigner and ask to see his license. I am promised, however, that they never bother foreigners, until there is an accident. At that point they would leverage my lack of license against me for a hefty fee, plus an exorbitant amount for damages against whoever I hit. The rule of thumb in Ethiopia is that the pedestrian has the right of way, and there are various rules for fault-finding in the case of an accident involving two vehicles. In the case of a foreigner, however, the solution is simple: it is always the foreigners fault. Period. If they jump in front of you from behind a tree while you're swerving to miss a cow while doing 100km/hr on a muddy road, its your fault.

The roads don't help the situation any either. To travel 100km can easily take a full day. As I drove, I continually had to switch in and out of 4 wheel drive. The tires lost their tread years ago, which adds a bit of adventure to climbing out of 2 foot deep mud holes. At one point I was forced into deep mire to pass a freight truck that was stuck in the mud. It was being pulled out of the mud by its 10 or so passengers, who had a hemp rope tied around the front bumper and running 30 feet or so out of the hole. We got out first, but only after killing the truck once, and I think puncturing the radiator. At any rate by the time we reached Ambuye we were leaking fluid and the engine was getting hot. On the return trip we stopped every half hour or so to refill with water.

The scenery was, of course, spectacular. I road back in near silence, as Gemitchu stayed behind and my only other passenger didn't speak English. Ah, he was not quite the only other passenger. As we left Ambuye, my fears turned into reality as two soldiers waved us over. Shoulder mounted AK-47's do much more to instill authority than the hip mounted pistols you see in the states. In any case, it turned out fine as one of them just wanted a ride. I was thanked profusely and even received a salute. How silly of me to worry.

We are running into a bit of difficulty in some of the field sites, and my presence doesn't help the matter. It seems there is another NGO in the area doing studies on the recent Polio outbreak. They have international funding, and to speed up the process have opted to pay participants for their field research. Usually this consists in various group discussions to gather information. When we arrive to do a similar study (on AIDS rather than Polio), the pattern is now set that we must pay participants. Since we do not have the funding for this (and disagree philosophically anyway), we often loose participants who show up and ask for their "Per Diem" fee. When we refuse, they leave. Having a white face in the field heightens the problem, as they assume we are working with large amounts of money. You would think communities would actually WANT to decrease the number of AIDS victims, but such is life.

I am still a point of interest wherever I go. Children follow me in throngs and want to shake my hand. Calls of, "You! You you you!" Or, "Forengee! Forengee!" follow me as I wander. For whatever reason, I enjoy Forengee and loathe You. Often when they cry "Forengee (foreigner)!" I reply, "Yet al?" which is "where is he?" They laugh. I laugh. We laugh.

Today was market day, and my presence there, once again, creates difficulty for any locals I'm with. Everyone tries to sell to me, and every beggar tries to beg from me. Its often hard to walk. Prices go up when I'm around as well. My company continually has to convince the sellers that the items are not for me. (Do I really look like someone who would purchase 6 cloves of garlic?)

My original plan for the weekend was to be in Addis Ababa (the capital of Ethiopia) for a board meeting. I must admit, I was looking forward to the trip. Mostly for the company of other native English speakers, but two other items enticed me as well: a hot shower and cold milk. As it is, I'm stuck with cold showers and hot milk. When I first began the cold showers 2 weeks ago, I told myself that by the time I left Ethiopia I would be so accustomed to cold showers I wouldn't even choose hot when I returned to the states. I told myself this, of course, to deceive myself into believing it wasn't that bad. This is a lie. Admittedly, I am growing slowly more accustomed to the cold shower; for the past few days I have even stood directly under the fall of water. But I no longer believe I will ever willfully choose a cold shower. The same is true of milk, though I never attempted to convince myself otherwise. Warm powdered milk will get you through a bowl of cereal when you just can't eat another local meal, but lets not kid ourselves about its attributes.

For now I'll continue listening to the third movement of Beethoven's Sonata #14 in C Sharp Minor, Op. 27/2, "Moonlight," as performed by Alfred Brendel. I think I'll find out what Mr. Frodo and the fellowship are up to next as well.

Peace

(PS: By the time I post this it may very well be Sunday or Monday. Every phone number in Ethiopia changed saturday, and no one seems to know what the internet number changed too. The network is only running at around 50% anyway, since everyone is calling each other and information to figure out what the numbers are. Oh the growing pains of a developing country...)

(PPS: I heard on BBC Africa that the White House has released a list of songs from GW's iPod. Among the songs included is “My Sherona”. Nice.)