For some reason, a line from an early hip hop track has been running through my head the last few days: "What's your status? I be the baddest." It somehow seemed appropriate since I'm in the hustle and bustle of Ethiopia's capital.
I've never been much of a big city person, and places like New York and London are only tolerable because their big-city-ness comes with a vast range of cultural and other offerings. I've been in Addis Ababa long enough only to find out that the National Theatre is infuriatingly hard to contact and the football season is over, which leaves me with a very big city of rather recent historical vintage. Like Berlin, Addis only became the centre of a major empire in the late 19th century, and unlike Berlin, Addis didn't have the sort of twentieth century that turned it into one of the most fascinating cities in the world (not that Ethiopian history's been dull, mind you, just that it hasn't been Berlin). I'm staying at the Itegue Taitu Hotel, built in 1898 and billed as the oldest hotel in the city. It certainly has a rickety old-world charm to it (although it would be nice if the leaky toilets had seats), but it really isn't that old. Founded in 1887 by the Emperor Menelik II, Addis Ababa is one year younger than Vancouver.
I arrived in Addis mid-afternoon on the 23rd after a long bus ride from Bahir Dar. That gave me enough time to take a quick walk around the city to orient myself before the sun set. The city gave decidedly mixed first impressions. I was braced for big scary urbanity, and I never felt uncomfortable strolling about. On the other hand, by the end of my two-hour walk, I was coughing from all the exhaust fumes, and I'd been approached by three "students" and one child who wanted to accompany me on my walk, and one urchin had had a try at my pockets. Fortunately, I'd made sure to keep all my valuables out of easy reach, and three weeks in Ethiopia has given me plenty of practice at being polite but firm in telling my companions that actually, thank you, I prefer to walk alone (the alternative is a conversation that grows boring as it slowly turns to the question of how best to extract money from me). Still, it was enough to think I might leave for Harar a day early. I'm going to aim to get back to Addis a day before my flight out anyway, and I've now seen all the sights I wanted to see.
Those sights included: the Addis Sheraton Hotel, the Mercato, the National Museum, and the museum at the university. There are a few other things I could investigate on the day before my flight, but nothing I'll be wringing my hands about if I miss.
The Sheraton wasn't exactly a must-see, but I'd heard enough about it that I thought it deserved a look, so I included it on my first afternoon's stroll. It's thought to be one of the finest hotels in Africa, and certainly strolling around its spacious grounds gave me a sense of luxury that I've very rarely experienced even in North America or Europe (certainly not if I'm the one footing the bill). Coming off the dusty streets of Addis, it was intriguing to see not only how the other half (or the other 0.01%) lives, but also who that other half is. A range of well-groomed white folk, slick-as-oil Chinese, and a number of authoritative-looking Africans, some attired in business suits and some in the sort of traditional clothing that I associate with visiting dignitaries (Addis hosts both the African Union and a major UN headquarters). I had to pass through two security checkpoints to get in, but as with other security checks I've been through in Addis, my white face earned me the kid gloves treatment. Next time I hatch a plan to commit grand larceny or plant a bomb in an African capital, I'll make a point of being white. There's the flip side to my white face drawing would-be con artists and pickpockets out of the woodwork.
The Mercato is the major market area in Addis, and said to be one of the largest public markets in Africa. It might have been the time of day I came, or maybe I somehow by-passed the interesting bits, but it was a bit of a disappointment. Lots of stalls selling mostly clothing, but nothing like the bustle and chaos I'd anticipated. I went in high security mode as I'd been warned the Mercato was also a haven for pickpockets, but never felt even followed as I wandered about.
The day I visited the Mercato (yesterday) I also spent familiarizing myself with the minibus network. My initial walk through town the previous day had given me enough of a sense of where everything was that I didn't feel lost as the minibuses zipped me around, and it was a genuinely pleasant experience. There aren't bus stops in Addis the way there are in most cities I know, but there are areas where minibuses congregate before shooting off to various other corners of the city. Because I'm not yet familiar with which minibuses stop where, I constantly had to ask people to help me. And I think that's the secret to starting to like whatever potentially scary city you're in: in Addis--as I imagine almost everywhere in the world--99% of the people are genuinely decent and friendly and a good chunk of them are very eager to help if you ask them for help. (The ones to watch out for are the ones who seek me out before they know I need help and try to find ways that they can place me in their debt.) I got lots of friendly help, a few friendly conversations (I chatted with a guy wearing a Chelsea shirt about the soccer game the previous week), and occasional politeness on a scale I'd never see in the West. The last person on to one of the minibuses (they don't leave till they're chock-a-block full), I had a rather precarious seat, and one of my neighbours insisted on trading seats with me. I'm not sure I've ever seen people on Vancouver buses get up to help seat someone because he was an out-of-town tourist. Also, no one ever tried to charge me more than the very low standard price: the whole experience really made me feel like I was an honoured guest in the city.
And if there's kindness from strangers in Addis, imagine the hospitality from not-quite-strangers. My friend Renee has an Ethiopian friend Yabebal (they studied astrophysics together in Cape Town), and she put us in touch shortly before we left. Yabebal was massively helpful over e-mail, teaching me some basic Amharic words, pointing me toward Selam Bus, whose added comfort has been a life-saver on long-haul trips, and giving me the contact details of his brother Samuel, who still lives in Addis. Problems with Samuel's cell phone meant that we didn't meet up until after I'd been in the city for a full day, but we met up for dinner last night. Samuel is a big man full of smiles and laughter, and despite the fact that we'd never met before and don't have any obvious common interests, the conversation didn't flag for an instant. He even insisted on lending me a spare cell phone so that I could be in touch more easily, not to mention paying for my meal (Samuel used to work as a cook, so he also knows where to go for good food). He was going to join me on my museum outing today as well, but work got the better of him. Hopefully we'll get a chance to meet up again before I leave. Not least because I still have his cell phone.
The museum outings today were the most standardly tourist activity of my time in Addis, and were indeed quite satisfying. I started at the National Museum, which houses a replica of Lucy, as well as artifacts from Ethiopia's historical past, before moving on to the museum at the university. Both were very good museums, certainly several steps above the disappointments in Aksum and Lalibela. Besides the fascination of seeing several million years of hominid evolution at the National Museum (Lucy was the biggest find, but Ethiopia's Rift Valley has been the site of finds from pretty much every stage in the past five million years of hominid evolution), it was intriguing seeing the best collection I know of from Aksumite and pre-Aksumite civilizations. Aksum and Yeha are obviously the unmoveable sites of the monumental architecture, but I saw far more small-scale stuff from the millennia before and after Christ in the National Museum. It helped fill out my picture of these civilizations, especially in the case of Yeha, where what remains there doesn't tell you a whole lot about the people who lived there.
Addis Ababa University is a place worth visiting in itself, a leafy and inviting campus that certainly benefits from being situated on the grounds of a former palace of Emperor Haile Selassie. The Institute of Ethiopian Studies is the building that used to be the emperor's palace, and the museum includes a few rooms that preserve the emperor's and his wife's bedrooms and bathrooms, as well as featuring some of their garments. Being an emperor seems to be pretty good work if you can get it (although you also run the risk of being killed in the aftermath of a military coup). The museum also has a floor dedicated to ethnography, featuring various artifacts used by the dozens of different nationalities in Ethiopia (the far south in particular features a number of tribes that are quintessentially tribal African, with ritual scarification, lip plugs, and various fascinating coming-of-age rituals: I'm not visiting (a) because it would cost too much, (b) because it would require at least two weeks, and (c) because I'd feel a bit odd viewing human beings as if they were exotic wildlife). The upper floor collects an impressive range of musical instruments as well as Christian art and sacred crosses. These latter two were very well represented but not quite as eye-popping as they are when situated in their original contexts. And I've had the good fortune of seeing the original contexts already.
The Institute of Ethiopian Studies also houses a large library and reading room. I was a little too shy to wander around while people studied, but it was a nice feeling to suddenly find myself at the heart of a university after the best part of a month removing myself from such a familiar element. The library was really very attractive, with big wood tables and high ceilings more reminiscent of Oxford than a Canadian university.
And now I have the rest of an afternoon to myself before getting up super early for yet another very early Selam Bus out to Harar. I arrived in Addis a little apprehensive, but I feel I'll be leaving it having not exactly befriended the city, but at least made friendly acquaintance.
I've never been much of a big city person, and places like New York and London are only tolerable because their big-city-ness comes with a vast range of cultural and other offerings. I've been in Addis Ababa long enough only to find out that the National Theatre is infuriatingly hard to contact and the football season is over, which leaves me with a very big city of rather recent historical vintage. Like Berlin, Addis only became the centre of a major empire in the late 19th century, and unlike Berlin, Addis didn't have the sort of twentieth century that turned it into one of the most fascinating cities in the world (not that Ethiopian history's been dull, mind you, just that it hasn't been Berlin). I'm staying at the Itegue Taitu Hotel, built in 1898 and billed as the oldest hotel in the city. It certainly has a rickety old-world charm to it (although it would be nice if the leaky toilets had seats), but it really isn't that old. Founded in 1887 by the Emperor Menelik II, Addis Ababa is one year younger than Vancouver.
I arrived in Addis mid-afternoon on the 23rd after a long bus ride from Bahir Dar. That gave me enough time to take a quick walk around the city to orient myself before the sun set. The city gave decidedly mixed first impressions. I was braced for big scary urbanity, and I never felt uncomfortable strolling about. On the other hand, by the end of my two-hour walk, I was coughing from all the exhaust fumes, and I'd been approached by three "students" and one child who wanted to accompany me on my walk, and one urchin had had a try at my pockets. Fortunately, I'd made sure to keep all my valuables out of easy reach, and three weeks in Ethiopia has given me plenty of practice at being polite but firm in telling my companions that actually, thank you, I prefer to walk alone (the alternative is a conversation that grows boring as it slowly turns to the question of how best to extract money from me). Still, it was enough to think I might leave for Harar a day early. I'm going to aim to get back to Addis a day before my flight out anyway, and I've now seen all the sights I wanted to see.
Those sights included: the Addis Sheraton Hotel, the Mercato, the National Museum, and the museum at the university. There are a few other things I could investigate on the day before my flight, but nothing I'll be wringing my hands about if I miss.
The Sheraton wasn't exactly a must-see, but I'd heard enough about it that I thought it deserved a look, so I included it on my first afternoon's stroll. It's thought to be one of the finest hotels in Africa, and certainly strolling around its spacious grounds gave me a sense of luxury that I've very rarely experienced even in North America or Europe (certainly not if I'm the one footing the bill). Coming off the dusty streets of Addis, it was intriguing to see not only how the other half (or the other 0.01%) lives, but also who that other half is. A range of well-groomed white folk, slick-as-oil Chinese, and a number of authoritative-looking Africans, some attired in business suits and some in the sort of traditional clothing that I associate with visiting dignitaries (Addis hosts both the African Union and a major UN headquarters). I had to pass through two security checkpoints to get in, but as with other security checks I've been through in Addis, my white face earned me the kid gloves treatment. Next time I hatch a plan to commit grand larceny or plant a bomb in an African capital, I'll make a point of being white. There's the flip side to my white face drawing would-be con artists and pickpockets out of the woodwork.
The Mercato is the major market area in Addis, and said to be one of the largest public markets in Africa. It might have been the time of day I came, or maybe I somehow by-passed the interesting bits, but it was a bit of a disappointment. Lots of stalls selling mostly clothing, but nothing like the bustle and chaos I'd anticipated. I went in high security mode as I'd been warned the Mercato was also a haven for pickpockets, but never felt even followed as I wandered about.
The day I visited the Mercato (yesterday) I also spent familiarizing myself with the minibus network. My initial walk through town the previous day had given me enough of a sense of where everything was that I didn't feel lost as the minibuses zipped me around, and it was a genuinely pleasant experience. There aren't bus stops in Addis the way there are in most cities I know, but there are areas where minibuses congregate before shooting off to various other corners of the city. Because I'm not yet familiar with which minibuses stop where, I constantly had to ask people to help me. And I think that's the secret to starting to like whatever potentially scary city you're in: in Addis--as I imagine almost everywhere in the world--99% of the people are genuinely decent and friendly and a good chunk of them are very eager to help if you ask them for help. (The ones to watch out for are the ones who seek me out before they know I need help and try to find ways that they can place me in their debt.) I got lots of friendly help, a few friendly conversations (I chatted with a guy wearing a Chelsea shirt about the soccer game the previous week), and occasional politeness on a scale I'd never see in the West. The last person on to one of the minibuses (they don't leave till they're chock-a-block full), I had a rather precarious seat, and one of my neighbours insisted on trading seats with me. I'm not sure I've ever seen people on Vancouver buses get up to help seat someone because he was an out-of-town tourist. Also, no one ever tried to charge me more than the very low standard price: the whole experience really made me feel like I was an honoured guest in the city.
And if there's kindness from strangers in Addis, imagine the hospitality from not-quite-strangers. My friend Renee has an Ethiopian friend Yabebal (they studied astrophysics together in Cape Town), and she put us in touch shortly before we left. Yabebal was massively helpful over e-mail, teaching me some basic Amharic words, pointing me toward Selam Bus, whose added comfort has been a life-saver on long-haul trips, and giving me the contact details of his brother Samuel, who still lives in Addis. Problems with Samuel's cell phone meant that we didn't meet up until after I'd been in the city for a full day, but we met up for dinner last night. Samuel is a big man full of smiles and laughter, and despite the fact that we'd never met before and don't have any obvious common interests, the conversation didn't flag for an instant. He even insisted on lending me a spare cell phone so that I could be in touch more easily, not to mention paying for my meal (Samuel used to work as a cook, so he also knows where to go for good food). He was going to join me on my museum outing today as well, but work got the better of him. Hopefully we'll get a chance to meet up again before I leave. Not least because I still have his cell phone.
The museum outings today were the most standardly tourist activity of my time in Addis, and were indeed quite satisfying. I started at the National Museum, which houses a replica of Lucy, as well as artifacts from Ethiopia's historical past, before moving on to the museum at the university. Both were very good museums, certainly several steps above the disappointments in Aksum and Lalibela. Besides the fascination of seeing several million years of hominid evolution at the National Museum (Lucy was the biggest find, but Ethiopia's Rift Valley has been the site of finds from pretty much every stage in the past five million years of hominid evolution), it was intriguing seeing the best collection I know of from Aksumite and pre-Aksumite civilizations. Aksum and Yeha are obviously the unmoveable sites of the monumental architecture, but I saw far more small-scale stuff from the millennia before and after Christ in the National Museum. It helped fill out my picture of these civilizations, especially in the case of Yeha, where what remains there doesn't tell you a whole lot about the people who lived there.
Addis Ababa University is a place worth visiting in itself, a leafy and inviting campus that certainly benefits from being situated on the grounds of a former palace of Emperor Haile Selassie. The Institute of Ethiopian Studies is the building that used to be the emperor's palace, and the museum includes a few rooms that preserve the emperor's and his wife's bedrooms and bathrooms, as well as featuring some of their garments. Being an emperor seems to be pretty good work if you can get it (although you also run the risk of being killed in the aftermath of a military coup). The museum also has a floor dedicated to ethnography, featuring various artifacts used by the dozens of different nationalities in Ethiopia (the far south in particular features a number of tribes that are quintessentially tribal African, with ritual scarification, lip plugs, and various fascinating coming-of-age rituals: I'm not visiting (a) because it would cost too much, (b) because it would require at least two weeks, and (c) because I'd feel a bit odd viewing human beings as if they were exotic wildlife). The upper floor collects an impressive range of musical instruments as well as Christian art and sacred crosses. These latter two were very well represented but not quite as eye-popping as they are when situated in their original contexts. And I've had the good fortune of seeing the original contexts already.
The Institute of Ethiopian Studies also houses a large library and reading room. I was a little too shy to wander around while people studied, but it was a nice feeling to suddenly find myself at the heart of a university after the best part of a month removing myself from such a familiar element. The library was really very attractive, with big wood tables and high ceilings more reminiscent of Oxford than a Canadian university.
And now I have the rest of an afternoon to myself before getting up super early for yet another very early Selam Bus out to Harar. I arrived in Addis a little apprehensive, but I feel I'll be leaving it having not exactly befriended the city, but at least made friendly acquaintance.
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