Waiting for the miracle to come...

Well The next Monday before our Wednesday deadline still without an appointment. Dr G took me to immigration with a different client after having been waiting again in his office. Seeing as we were there we might as well go and talk to one of the bosses we hadn’t talked to yet, he was the usual unfriendly and aware of my HRC-case. This guy told us to go to the ministry of Labour and said the Isayas we had been trying to schedule the appointment with most of the previous week was not the right person to talk to after all.
Dr G. tried to stop a German rasta from running away from the office and managed to get his bag stolen in the process. Thus when he realised he needed to return and look for it so I ended up waiting/crying in the car for another 45 minutes by myself. By the time he returned it was 17:00 and all major offices close at 17:30. I had been waiting for Dr G since 11:45 and we had done nothing but encounter another immigration prick that felt I should leave the country.
Probably out of guilt we still headed for the Labour office where we found our way to the boss’s office. He listened to my story and called his colleague director who was also still in his office and received us as well. Labour is said to be very pro employee, there the ones linked to the union so nice and left-wing. They told me they had an important meeting with the Addis council the next day and that they would present my case and give me a call when they figured out a way to help me. I wasn’t called but still went there the next day by myself. The boss had become ill and wasn’t able to attend the meeting. He told me he’d discuss the issue the next day and call me. I’m low on patience so on Wednesday, again by myself, the other boss found me waiting for him after his lunch break and took me to his colleague and they discussed a solution in front of me. They told me to go to immigration again and ask if they would be able to give me a business visa when Labour cancelled my work permit which would allow me to get hired by the dream job. I got Dr G to accompany to the last prick at immigration we had talked to to address this question. Immigration avoided giving a clear answer which is what they do best. They did however tell me that GYA had written to them asking them for my deportation and that they had told GYA that wasn’t their place to decide.
In Dr G ‘s opinion this means there on my side. Anyway so we went back to labour who started the process of cancelling my work permit and told them that immigration wasn’t going to deport me if I were involved in a court case so I’d need a letter from court to prove this. Labour would have my work permit cancelled by the next Thursday and that left us plenty of time to file for court so I had a letter for them immediately after the permit was cancelled.
On Saturday I gave some documents to my Amharic teacher for translation which was Dr G’s idea and after that enjoyed my visit to the ethnological museum which I hadn’t seen yet. Hilarious folktales and inspiring artefacts in a former castle. Really cool! I spent the evening eating with some teachers from the school I’m in with Aaron and afterwards went to one of their houses provided by the school. A ballroom for a living room and an equally big lounge room, 3 bathrooms, etc and she lives there all by herself. This school is crazy. I really get along with the wife of one of the teachers who was my Canadian friend ( Emily)’s host and friend. She’s really very pleasant and open-minded company and loves to cook and play scrabble. I feel that if I get to stay here Alix may become one of my close friends.
Sunday flew by as usual I went for juice with Saskia( the Dutch girl) and some other people and on Monday I found myself rushing to Dr G’s office again to file the case, sadly enough my teacher/translator was sick and didn’t get the documents translated. It took Dr G a long time to decide he’d translate himself and that we should meet the next day to file the case so there was hardly a free afternoon left to enjoy. On top of it all there was a power-cut, the first for ages, and Alix was supposed to come for dinner that night. I ended up reheating the stew on a kerosene fire we borrowed from the landlady which caused it to burn and give my delicious stew a rather bad taste. Alix was nice enough to say it tasted nice anyway but honestly it didn’t. 10 Minutes after starting our meal the electricity came back. What is it with me in this place, I am cursed or something?
Tuesday I was pretty tired because Aaron has a new baby sister and his mum’s back from the states and he’s not dealing with the change extremely well but still I hurried Dr G’s office again only to be kept waiting for ages until I call for the 3rd time and am sent home with the message come tomorrow morning and then we’ll get everything done.
Thus on Wednesday I don’t go to the school and find Dr G translating the paper when I arrive at 9. At 10 he walks out with someone else for just a little while and asks me to await him there. I wait until 15 before we finally get in his car in order to get things done… We needed some stamps on copies and then the case needed to be presented in Amharic so that needed to be written… No need to say by the time that was done it was 17:15 and we weren’t able to file it. I finished the new book I started that day while waiting around for him and felt so depressed.
So we ended up only filing the court case on Thursday and then they told us they couldn’t give us the letters until the next day. I went to labour by myself and the boss was very surprised _ and disappointed?_ that I didn’t have the letter. He emphasized it was important I got this done before the end of the week, as if I didn’t know. On Friday I went with Mika who got instructions of Dr G to the court. When we arrived the judge who had to write these letters had just left for an early lunch s we hung around for 1,5 hours and then went back in. The judge saw the urgency and scribbled the letter I needed in 5 minutes, I just needed to get it typed and printed…which isn’t to difficult when you have 5 secretaries sitting in an office. But I guess I was wrong they were notably too busy playing with their mobile phones to type anything and made us wait a full 1,5 hours!!!!! ( the letter had less then 100 words for goodness sake!). I got really pissed and upon receiving the letter I ran out of there to make it to Labour as soon as possible. I arrived at 15:45 but my appointment with them was at 13:30 so they were in a meeting. The rest of the afternoon was spent waiting for them to come out which they did at 17:15. Then and there I was told it was too late to do anything and that I should be back there on Monday. I felt so extremely frustrated and mentally drained again. I never realised how much I just love our efficiency although I do admit government agencies aren’t the most efficient in Belgium or Spain either. ;-)
So the weekend began rather poorly but that would be solved with the hike I’d take with Holger and Mika. We set out Saturday morning with a scrumptious picnic packed to climb one of the mountains surrounding Addis. The views were nice, just getting out of the smog into nature from time to time is great actually and when we arrived to the top we were surprised to see a tent. We thought those would certainly be farangies but in stead we bumped into the federal police _What were they doing there? No clue whatsoever!_ They told us to go down this way or that way.
Fine, we enjoyed our picnic ( a lot mmmmmm cheese and avocado…) and decided on our route down one of the choices we were given. After a short while and a silly photo session we are called back by one of the agents. We had to return because we shouldn’t have gone that way_ even when it was one of the options they gave us! At the camp our documents were taken ( me my Belgium ID and a photocopy of my passport) and a lot of discussion was done through the radio. Mika told me later that their boss had no idea what to do with us terrorists… Thank you Mr Bush for giving them an example of this ridiculous behaviour.
We were sat down for ages before we were escorted down a very steep path ( I was fine with my little sandals and short shorts but Mika who’s quite a sissy was scared of slipping so I held his hand pretending I was the damsel in distress all the way down). One of the local woman actually discussed with the cop about why they were doing this and told him to leave us and them alone. Upon reaching the village outskirts we were taken in the back of one of their jeeps _I’m convinced that neighbourhood is still gossiping about us now_ to the regular and not federal police station. At this point we all thought it pretty hilarious stupid.
In the police station we were interviewed and I got really scared cause my paper situation is not exactly ideal and I had to tell them I worked for GYA seeing as that’s the only papers I still have at the moment so if they wanted to call the school I was in trouble. They kept us there for a long while until one of the bosses came, everybody avoids taking responsibility here, who was charmed by Holger’s excellent Amharic and let us go. We had done absolutely nothing wrong but we presented an ideal diversion to bored policeman on a mountain. Mika said later that if we had seemed unfriendly to them they had the intention of putting us in jail. I was freezing in my shorts on the way home and had become really pissed off, I hate these limitations of personal freedom just for power display. It’s something I’m finding really hard to deal with.

In between

I was writing an email to a friend ages ago updating him a bit on my thoughts and then realised this should actually also be in my blog. Sadly enough I didn’t get it posted and then forgot all about it until now.
19/01
I’ve been so occupied by this case that I’ve omitted sometimes my reflections on life here. Here’s what I wrote:
I really appreciate certain things more now, a washing machine for example. You know this horrible task is mostly done by hand here. It’s actually cheaper for me to hire someone to do it then to buy a machine. Having a servant that comes to my place to do it once a week is also extremely strange. I pay her well in Ethiopian standards but she only gets 5 euro per month!!!!
There’s also our selection of vegetables ( here very limited) and actually just supermarkets. You have no idea just how cool those are. Going to Lidl you know you’ll get a good deal and you can find almost everything you need there. Here supermarkets are for white people and thus more expensive than the small souxs. Yet the souxs can also rip you off easily and it’s hard to find one who sells everything you need.
Since I moved I haven’t bought a fridge not to mention the lack of an oven since I arrived to Ethiopia and I feel I never appreciated these fully until now. ( I’ll buy a fridge as soon as I have the job at the British school confirmed but don’t want to just now.)
And then there’s the almost complete absence of affordable cheese…. I’d die for Brie right now =)
I didn’t tell you guys either that Holger brought me Belgian waffles and chocolate from Belgium after Christmas to give me courage. How sweet is that?!?
In other words no matter how desperate I get from time to time this place and the people I’ve gotten to know here are still worth while.

No news on my case, today everything was closed due to the celebration of the 3 wise men
( Balthazar is believed to be from here by the way)

I was writing an email to a friend updating him a bit on my thoughts and then realised this should actually also be in my blog. I’ve been so occupied by this case that I’ve omitted sometimes my reflections on life here. Here’s what I wrote:
I really appreciate certain things more now, a washing machine for example. You know this horrible task is mostly done by hand here. It’s actually cheaper for me to hire someone to do it then to buy a machine. Having a servant that comes to my place to do it once a week is also extremely strange. I pay her well in Ethiopian standards but she only gets 5 euro per month!!!!
There’s also our selection of vegetables ( here very limited) and actually just supermarkets. You have no idea just how cool those are. Going to Lidl you know you’ll get a good deal and you can find almost everything you need there. Here supermarkets are for white people and thus more expensive than the small souxs. Yet the souxs can also rip you off easily and it’s hard to find one who sells everything you need.
Since I moved I haven’t bought a fridge not to mention the lack of an oven since I arrived to Ethiopia and I feel I never appreciated these fully until now. ( I’ll buy a fridge as soon as I have the job at the British school confirmed but don’t want to just now.)
And then there’s the almost complete absence of affordable cheese…. I’d die for Brie right now =)
I didn’t tell you guys either that Holger brought me waffles and chocolate from Belgium after Christmas to give me courage. How sweet is that?!?
In other words no matter how desperate I get from time to time this place and the people I’ve gotten to know here are still worth while.

As for my case no news, today everything was closed due to the celebration of the 3 wise men ( Balthazar is believed to be from here by the way)

The nghtmare continues...

Last time I didn’t mention the moment I was sitting on the bus and the phone from the school came saying they wanted to offer me the job. I didn’t mention this ‘cause I was too afraid to be happy. No matter how hard I tried I did feel absolutely thrilled. This was the kind of job I’d been aspiring shortly after starting to teach English. A decent contract in an international school where you enjoy the freedom to work as we do in Belgium or any other western country. It seems my fear was with good reason because when I turned up at the meeting that was scheduled on Monday I was introduced to the person in charge of the paperwork. After hearing my story he asked me to come back on Tuesday to discuss the options. There and then he told me he didn’t think they would be able to hire me on time. I’d have to go to Belgium, finance that myself, and get clearance beforehand… It’ll take a lot of time and money and this dreamjob of mine is supposed to start at the beginning of February. I first went to HRC crying my eyes out and they pointed to the embassy to help me this time, they say they should call the minister of foreign affairs.…
It was another blow to the head, one that’s got me crying in this stupid mall while I was waiting for an appointment with some guy whose phone number I got from my Amharic teacher saying that he could solve paper problems. I was totally desperate: it seemed as if nothing was going to happen just like nothing _but prolonged suffering for me_ had been happening. I felt absolutely beat and hopeless.
I got Holger on the phone and was weeping when the guy who had legal advisor on top of his door finally showed up to his office, only 45 min later than he had said he would. That’s the state he found me in yet after explaining my case Dr. Getatchu ( Dr G.) started phoning influential friends so they could hear what happened to me. He even invited me out to dinner with them and one gave me his phone number?!? ( yes I also thought this was totally weird. On top of everything Dr G. seems to know many people in the school I’m currently ‘volunteering’ in which was also awkward ‘cause I haven’t told anybody there that I may be leaving soon seeing as nothing is sure until now. ). Anyway I agreed skip working with Aaron the next day to meet him ‘cause we had a lot to do. After a long wait including joining him to another case he had to solve we went to immigration and spoke to some people there. We ended up at the same desk I had been several times before only now the guy was nice and told me he knew that no foreigners were treated worse then the ones at GYA but that when he had tried to do something about it his job was jeopardised and so he did nothing anymore. So the contacts GYA bragged about having were real enough it seems. Afterwards I had an appointment with the embassy ( who wrote to the minister of foreign affairs asking to intervene which is very exceptional to do this for an individual and not a diplomat) but by the time they were finished Dr G. was busy with something else and I was told to come to his office as soon as possible the next day. I rushed away from Aaron and called Dr G. asking if I should meet him somewhere only to be told to await him at the embassy who was trying to schedule an appointment with the head of National Intelligence and security, they didn’t manage and after a long wait we decided to go down there and take our chances but by then Dr G. was in court so someone from the embassy accompanied me there only to be turned away by the secretary. I felt drained and cried my eyes out ( I figured all was lost again and didn’t even go to my first level 2 Amharic lesson) until Dr G called and told me what he wanted to do with me the next day. So I rushed away from school again on Friday only to wait in his office for 2hours and 45 minutes before we returned to the same secretary with a written report of my story which got us through the first door to be able to get the phone number to make an appointment on Monday at the second door… Grrr That’s the only thing that happened which is so frustrating. Dr G. did however talk to the people of the dream job and was very self-assured about solving my case before next Wednesday so they sort of not gave up on me just yet, which was super. I just hope he can make it all come true, he says a lot and things do seem to be happening but we haven’t really done that much but postponing to the next day so I hope we’ll be able to really do some of those things on Monday (= tomorrow) seeing as Tuesday is a holiday here…
Sweet Holger brought me extra Belgian candy which he had taken from his visit after he heard what happened. I met him at a concert on Friday which turned out to be horrible but we did schedule then to have lunch on Sunday and play games: yes the addiction that was born in Bilbao has continued. I played settlers of Catan ( not really my cup of tea) and a hilarious homemade version of ‘time’s up’. Lunch was my new speciality: stew and my first goat meat version which was really tasty.
On Saturday evening I went with the friend of my Canadian friend and some teachers from the school I didn’t know very well for some scrumptious Chinese so it’s fair to say I did have a good weekend with no time for emailing so sorry to those awaiting reply…

The Ethiopian Christmas Santa brought my long desired silver lining!

It seemed you did cross your fingers. The interview went well and I noticed they were interested so afterwards I went to the HRC and told them I really wanted this job and that the GYA- situation may be in the way of getting it. Mahlet was not there ( hence I know nothing about the investigation) but I crossed the big boss in the corridor. He invited me in his office and asked how I was doing. After explaining he gave me his personal mobile phone number and told me he’d help me to be allowed to be hired and that I could give his number to the school. So I did and then after a wonderful dinner with Mohammed ( Holgers flatmate who went from a house that was too full to an almost empty one ‘cause Holger spent his holidays in Belgium) I took off on my trip seeing as I had asked Aaron’s dad for a week holiday.

Thanks to Mohammed, who was born in Bahir Dar, we got the number of a minibus service that picks you up at home and brings you there. Sadly enough arrangements had already been made for me to sleep at Mika’s grandmother, where he lives, seeing as that place was better connected to the main bus station than my new nest. We slept in his hut in a central neighbourhood of Addis on a mattress that you would almost mistake for a blanket. ( The bathroom is a hole in the ground much like the French ones near the highway and shower = bucket). I’m not frowning, it’s actually part of the experience of being here: seeing how real people live. Shortly after falling asleep, we watched a movie on his laptop so we would go to bed late and be able to sleep in the bus, we were awoken by the call that told us they’d pick us up in 30 minutes.

29/12

Exhausted and comfortable in the best seats of the bus ( we were the 2^nd they picked up) I slept for most of the 12-hour-way. Upon arrival we were bombarded with enthusiasts to relieve us from some money but Jordi, Mika’s best friend and a couch surfer ( CS-er) like us, sent her friend to haggle with a tuk tuk for us that took us to her place. Tuk tuk or badjadge are these hilarious mini taxis with 3 rather small wheels. We were welcomed by her family with a coffee ceremony ( I actually tried some to be polite) in Jordi’s wine bar. She makes mango- and date-wine and so. Really nice simple people.

After talking for a while some French girls in need of a place to sleep contacted her so we went to pick them up and then enjoyed delicious pasta in a no-nonsense bar near lake Tana. Jordi seems to host loads of people (all voluntarily), she’s undoubtedly the most charming guide of Bahir Dar and clearly knows where to take her guests.

30/12

After a rather cold night ( we had only brought one blanket and the French were using Jordi’s) and the purchase of a 120 birr camera+ film we set out to see the famous Blue Nile falls that are depicted on the one birr note in all their splendour. The ‘Bradt’ travel guide already mentioned there weren’t all that anymore after the constructing of a hydraulic power plant nearby. What was left is rather insignificant, especially after enjoying the falls in Yosemite this summer, but still it’s set in a nice environment and makes for a relaxing walk. When we were there a bunch of people arrived and it turned out to be the Egyptian prime minister and company including loads of press and security soldiers. It seems Egypt had been getting less water since the infamous construction and came to check out the situation. Later we were told that the falls were bigger that afternoon due to the visit and that they are normally reduced to dribble. All busses that went back to town were stuffed, the soldiers didn’t let some through somehow and my attempt to hitchhike wasn’t appreciated so we waited in the burning sun for ages to squeeze in the 3^rd bus that arrived and then still had to stand on this 45-minutes dirt-road-trip. I started feeling nauseous after 20 minutes and lost consciousness which conveniently got me a seat until the tire exploded shortly after. My 2^nd hitchhike attempt got us to the city centre 10 minutes later.

We wanted to cook for Jordi and her family ( all 8 of them excl. us 2) to thank them for their hospitality so set out to make a vegan meal. They are Ethiopian Orthodox so they fast ( no animal products whatsoever) up to Ethiopian Christmas. Cooking for 11 people ( a new Russian CS-er arrived) on a small charcoal fire is definitely another of those ‘real people’ experiences. It took us forever.

31/12

The early bird catches the worm and we caught a little boat with some other tourists to see some of the breathtaking monasteries built on the islands of lake Tana and the source of the Blue Nile. What was supposed to be finished at 13:00 the latest lasted to 16:00 because all people in the boat insisted seeing everything we were promised upon booking the trip.

Really amazing: seeing as people are often illiterate the Bible is depicted on the walls of these hut-like monasteries in a very colourful manner. One of the islands didn’t allow women whilst another one was run by them. We passed people from the islands travelling in actual papyrus boats which still resemble the ones used in ancient Egypt and saw real pelicans. I couldn’t have wished for a better day to end my year. We went out for dinner: the Russian guy, Jordi, Mika and me where I experienced the Ethiopian version of potato croquettes ( not recommendable) and then went to a traditional improvisation on music bar. Obviously we were sung about in a language we didn’t understand and picked out to dance. I was getting in to it and was actually pasted a birr on my forehead by one of the customers ( this is how you show the dancers you like what they’re doing) which was pretty funny. Countdown took place in a faranji bar ( for Ethiopians new year is in September) which had even provided tiny fireworks for the occasion. It was really nice.

1/1

After breakfast we said our goodbyes and set course for our short pit stop in the village of Auwramba before heading to Gondor. Auwramba is said to be extraordinary for it atheism and equality of sexes besides they produce textile according to ‘Bradt’. Sounds like my cup of tea, doesn’t it? Sadly enough Auwramba was none of the above only an exhausting and time consuming detour which involved me carrying my suitcase for over 40 minutes on a rocky path… There was not even a single textile shop! Annoyed and disappointed we made it to Gondor just in time to enjoy the castles there for 1 hour before they closed. The castles were really pretty and the ‘Bradt’ guide provided a interesting inside in the history of the Amhara Kings. The evening was spent with a delicious dinner ( we actually ordered 3 portions between the 2 of us which won’t come as a surprise to some of you) including a spice minced meat sauce and goat yoghurt. We spent a short night in an inexpensive and also pretty disgusting hotel.

2/1

Yes short night because at 5 am we were at the bus station to catch a bus up to Axum. A bumpy and dusty 15 hours ride with hardly any entertaining breaks ( only breaks to pick up people or put new air in the tires…) but luckily with breathtaking views of the Semin mountains and along an Italian constructed red dusty road where a friend of Mika found his death in a traffic accident. Exhausted and proud that when 6 people around me started puking I was able to not do so I arrived in the Tigray capital at 21:00. It’s amazing how the people who live along this road or should I say path, live following the sun’s rhythm and change hairdo’s and behaviour according to their inheritance.

The last part of the ride, in a 2^nd bus, was plagued by drunk people in uniform but I was warned by the people of the previous bus and Mika told me to duck on time when they more or less started fighting before being thrown out… ( another one of those ‘real people’ experiences?) We took a nice hotel this time where I was immediately charged more for my food because of my skin coloured but I did enjoy the nice clean on suite bathroom with hot shower!

3/1

After a really tasty breakfast_ some strange kind of porridge that was firm with beriberi ( a spice), scrambled eggs with veggies, fresh yoghurt and as the cherry on the cake fresh ‘ sprice’ juice obviously_ we set out to see the archaeological sites dotted around the town.

My heart almost stopped beating when we realised it was Sunday and saw the tourist office where we were supposed to buy our entrance tickets was closed: we came all this way and wouldn’t see the sites? Luckily the small office leading to the stelae field was open and even allowed me ‘habisha’( opposite of Faranji = native) price when I old her I worked in Addis: 8 birr in stead of 50. Pretty impressive, some of the highlights included: a stele dated from the 3^rd century that weighs 500 ton and measures 33m still lying where it fell on top of the underground tomb with incredible masonry that you can actually access for a certain king Remhai. Furthermore a trilingual inscribed tablet ( Sabaean (pre-Amharic), Geez ( religious language using Sabaean alphabet but differently) and Greek) still lying where it was placed in the 4^th century -unmoved seeing as it says anyone who moves it will meet an untimely death! And the unexcavated leftovers of what they presume was a palace where they made a cosy outside bar with pool table. Next to the thing that looks like a bench but was actually a table used to clean corpses. All this within walking distance of the rock hewn tomb for a 6^th century king. Oh and before I forget there’s also the church (that doesn’t allow women) where the original arc of the covenant is said to be kept- I saw from afar the outside building with the curtains that cover it- but lost much of my frustration when I heard nobody is allowed to see it anyways! We forgot about lunch and then really binged for dinner. I’m actually starting to appreciate injeera more especially he meals which include a little bit of everything with meat, a bit of everything with veggies, etc. There’s also a chickpea sauce called ‘shiro’ which is pretty tasty. Our trip to the bus station ( I had to start making my way back the next day to restart work with Aaron) taught us we only had to be there at 7.

4/1

At 7:20 I wake up surprised. Ten minutes later and without brushing my teeth I was outside with all my luggage and in a tuk tuk. No need for the hurry ‘cause the bus we took to Addis only arrived at 10:20 and then still had to change tires… This when the people kept telling us it would be there any minute now and seeing as there are no numbered space you don’t leave ‘cause a bad place on the bus is hell. So without breakfast we got on but most of the places were already taken by previous stop customers and so we were stuck in the back row with 4 other people various suitcases and a puking and peeing but still rather cute baby. There was no space even to have your arms beside you and we kept slaloming on mountains without there being a decent road… We saw various deadly looking car accidents on the side of the road and thus gratefully accepted the priests gift of holy Debre Damos soil. We were under the impression we’d arrive at Dessie ( more then halfway to Addis) and then sleep there to arrive at Addis before noon the next day so you can imagine our surprise when at 16 the bus pulled over in Mekale and didn’t leave again! From there it would be hard to even make it to Addis the next day =(

Anyway Mekale is quite charming and has a nice market know for the arrivals of caravans of camels with salt where I bought a traditional ‘Ntela’ after being better at haggling then Mika.

5/1

All day on the bus, past Dessie into ‘muslim ville’ around 17:30. One street big but fortunately with a clean hotel and a place with wonderful samosas (here called sambusas), you know those Indian fried triangle shaped pastries. The vomiting ceremony repeated itself various times and I had a hard time trying not to join them. Why didn’t I take a flight from Axum to Addis? Because I’m silly and thought it would be another one of those ‘real’ experiences.

6/1

We made it to Addis and my new home at 14 after the bus driver stopped by his home in the middle of nowhere to unload his personal stuff. I had to start working at 15 but fortunately Asefow ( Aaron’s dad) cancelled the appointment because there was too much traffic on the road. It was their Christmas eve and everybody is buying and killing oxen, goats etc. Completely normal to see them struggling on the main roads these days. So a late Merry Ethiopian Christmas to you al!