And Believe Me, It Isn't Hawaii

Oh, Addis Ababa!

How complicated are my feelings for you….

On one hand, you are the fascinating, vibrant gateway to the work I really believe in and to the people I find so resilient, smart, creative and funny.

On the other hand, you are a chaotic mess, the successful navigation of which seems a miracle pretty much every second of the day.

Nancy and I arrived early morning on March 30 to gorgeous, 70 degree weather and clear skies. The visa line at the airport was so streamlined—a very new feature—for a moment I thought I might have landed on the wrong continent. But, never fear: we had also arrived in ‘rush hour’ traffic, a term that basically applies to 18 of 24 hours. An Ethiopian shopkeeper, just yesterday, said to me, “You know, there are something like 6 million people in Addis, and not even a million cars. I think the education of drivers is not so good here.”

That would be the understatement of the century.

If I were ever forced to get behind the wheel of a car in this city, I would be crushed in a milli-second. Stop lights are few and far between, and that’s a good thing because they are only a suggestion, anyway. Lanes are painted on the street—apparently in a valiant effort to increase employment, because absolutely no one drives in an actual ‘lane’; instead they jockey for position in between lanes so that a three lane through-way becomes a five lane, glacially advancing, bumper car arcade. Roundabouts—a device that works so efficiently in New Zealand and in Europe—become a city-wide game of chicken. And then, of course, there are the goats grazing in the medians and the mule carts. I swear the mule cart drivers have it going on—I have seen them maneuver way faster through traffic than the vehicles. Makes me think, perhaps, a driver’s vision of smashing a mule and cart and its cargo might initiate just a smidgen of caution.

Nancy and I are staying in a small apartment on the campus of Hope College of Business, Science and Technology. Our archeologist friend, Sam Walker, offered us lodging on the campus, and for that we are very thankful. Turns out, it is a very long way from the center of the city where our meetings are all scheduled and so we spend an inordinate amount of time studying the traffic non-patterns and the death-avoiding maneuvers of the millions of pedestrians (as we have become pedestrians, too.) Also, let me just say that on the way to dinner, one might have to dodge both a horned cow and a running herd of hay bale-loaded donkeys. Just sayin’.

Good work is being accomplished, though. This morning we met with a group of doctors/representatives from the Ministry of Health, to brainstorm about ways SCOPE can be better integrated into MoH and how MoH can be more supportive of SCOPE’s successful partnership work in Gondar. Importantly, (and one of our major goals in being in Addis,) the Head Aid to the Ethiopian Health Minister promised a letter of support to add to our application for a USAID grant. Next we moved on to the lush and opulent veranda of the Addis Hilton, where we lunched with good friend of SCOPE and past president of Seattle Rotary, Ezra Teshome. Ezra also brought his friend, Dr. Tedesa, past president of the Addis Rotary. We had an interesting discussion about how to engage Rotary in Gondar in support of SCOPE. This afternoon, Sam Walker introduced us to Dr. Teodros, former Dean of the Medical College in Axum (he’s now here at Addis Ababa University) to educate him about SCOPE and whether there are others here in the medical/academic world that might be interested in SCOPE’s work. Of course, we aren’t sure what will come of any of this, but they are all connections and conversations that need to happen in order for this work to move forward and to be sustainable.

And did I mention the mosquito breeding farm that comes alive in my tiny room, every night after I turn off the light? Let me just say I traveled 28 hours to get here, and in doing so, lost two full nights of sleep, and now have had two subsequent nights, with little more than four hours sleep, combined. Even with only one working ear and a bottle of temazepam, a legion of mosquitos is an indomitable force. My wall is spotted with my own blood, where I have smashed what few of the procreating mini-monsters I could catch. At four this morning, at the end of a second night of torture, I finally ended up on the floor of the ‘kitchen,’ with my Thermarest camping mattress and a sheet. Just reporting: it didn’t work so well. And so, in retaliation, I abandoned my environmentally friendly attempts at annihilation and this evening purchased a spray of some sort. It’s called Bay-gon—a play on words, I’m sure, and one that begs the question: what, exactly, will said spray cause to ‘be gone?’ I’m sure it is highly toxic and completely unregulated, and you know what? After four nights without sleep, I don’t give one flying f--- (fill in the blanks.) But, just in case, I’m thankful both Nancy and I are far beyond the child-bearing years . . .

Night, night! (From our resident donkey, that functions as the lawnmower at Hope College.)

Photos: Welcome fresh fruit in our kitchen, Addis on a beautiful day, in traffic with the donkeys, mule cart on the road, pedestrians (Nancy and Rahaw) at night, incongruent Addis Hilton gardens, the two sides of Addis, our favorite donkey.