Al-Qaida and Bahir Dar

 

Ha! I bet I got your attention with that title!

The 185 km drive to and from Bahir Dar today was beautiful, and fascinating—and also full of interesting local trivia. Like the fact the Ethiopians call the below trucks ‘Al-Qaidas.’ The reason? Because the drivers are so dangerous, they kill people every day. Mostly, they carry freight—we saw a couple today full of thousands of pounds of mangoes, others with thousands of pounds of red onions, eucalyptus poles, rocks, etc. But, there are often people sitting on top of the freight, or hunched under the blue tarps that cover the load, and the drivers are absolute maniacs—passing all kinds of vehicles without any regard for how fast someone else is coming at them. Al-Qaidas also kill livestock; we passed at one demolished mule, two smashed dogs and a dead sheep on the way back to Gondar. At least the massive double-trailer fuel tankers coming in from Djibouti and South Sudan are careful drivers . . .

We left Gondar about 6:30 this morning to start the 3 hour road trip to Bahir Dar. The road was full of people walking to work—closer to Gondar, there were those on their way to construction jobs; as we climbed into the mountains, there were countless men carrying hand-made plows, oxen yokes and driving their plow animals before them. Women on their way to market carried bags of onions, charcoal, bananas and other loads on their heads, little boys drove herds of goats along the shoulder; zillions of pack mules and burros strapped with bags of grain and produce ambled along the sides of the road. The newly paved highway is far busier with all these than with motorized vehicles.

The countryside was absolutely gorgeous in the golden early morning light—the hills are so GREEN right now, with the onset of the rainy season. I am so thankful to see the green and to know the rains have come on time for these people. Ethiopia has such a long and tragic history of devastating drought and the northern part of the country is so arid, even with the rains it feels like the region could be perpetually on the edge.

The city of Bahir Dar sits at the southern end of enormous Lake Tana, the source of the Blue Nile. The main road into town is lined with palm trees and the city has a distinctly tropical feel (it is only 2,800 ft. above sea level as opposed to Gondar, which is nearly 7,000 ft. elevation.) We stopped for a little breakfast and, of course, the obligatory macchiato, then headed over to the Amhara Regional Health Bureau to speak with Mr. Shegaw. We ended up meeting with him and three of his colleagues where we again had the opportunity to introduce everyone to SCOPE, again with great positive response. This visit we had time to present the project and results of the last SCOPE fellow, Kristen Savage, via zip drive; it was very well-received. We felt the trip was worthwhile, as the Regional Health Bureau will be in touch with us by sending us e-copies of the Health Ministry’s coordination of services plan at regional health centers, and their documents about implementing Option B+, the CDC’s plan for treatment and patient continuity for PMTCT. Emily Robinson, one of our current SCOPE fellows (both UW fellows, Emily and Kate, just arrived in Gondar today!) will be meeting with the Ministry reps along with Getahun and Kefyalew next week.

After our meeting, we had a chance to sit on the lake shore and enjoy a cold drink. The shore, in places, is fringed with papyrus and fishermen in traditional papyrus boats still ply the waters. Sadly, however, the papyrus is disappearing due to development on the lake shore; traditional papyrus fishing boats are losing out to larger, motorized craft. On our way in and out of Bahir Dar, we crossed a bridge over the actual source of the Blue Nile—there are said to be both hippos and crocodiles in the water there, but we saw only cars backed into the water, being washed. For some inexplicable reason, a police officer sits at the end of the bridge and if he observes anyone taking photos of the headwaters of the Blue Nile, he will confiscate the camera. Go figure.

We're in the middle of another dramatic thunderstorm here tonight and the lights are flickering. I better go before everything crashes.

PHOTOS: Man and mule, on the road to Bahir Dar; traditional tukel; donkeys going to market; mule cart and lumber; family on the road; Lake Tana and papyrus; fisherman in papyrus boat; rainy season, on the road back to Gondar.