Mercato and some flowers

Today, the power finally came back on at the guesthouse where I am staying.  We (me and one of my colleagues who is also staying here) came back from a day of walking around Mercato and Bole, rang the bell, and shouted with delight when the bell actually rang back.  The guard laughed at us when he let us in.  The power has been off since Thursday night.  Yesterday morning, there was enough hot water left in the water heater that I could take a real shower; today, I took a coffee cup shower from the sink.  Fun times ;-p

Apparently this power thing hasn’t happened at this house in the past 8 months, which is why they don’t have a generator.  I hope the new house I’m moving to has a generator!

Today, we woke up early and took a mini-bus taxi from Tor Hiloch (where we live) to Kasanchis, where we were meeting Nadja (my German/Ethiopian coworker friend) and Adu (her boyfriend).  Adu was our guide around Mercato.  Mercato is this huge sprawling market – kind of like the market in Fez or Marakech, where most of the stalls are permanent.  But this one has roads with cars and alleyways with donkeys (as opposed to Fez, which is mostly alley ways and donkeys).  This one is bigger, too. 

We didn’t take any bags with us, because sometimes you can get pickpocketed or robbed.  But we were fine.  Because we planned ahead and we went early and we didn’t act stupid.  We had foul, Ethiopian style, which is beans and scrambled eggs and peppers and tomatoes and garlic and delicious for breakfast at this tiny little seriously a hole in the wall restaurant.  But it looked clean and there were lots of people there.  So far, so good stomach wise J

Then, we wandered up and down and up and down the alley ways and roads and thoroughfares.  I think the most interesting thing were these women who had set up stalls along side a wall, on wood platforms so their wares were at eye level.  They sat with their backs against the wall in the middle of all of these woven plastic burlap-sack-sized sacks, which were rolled down to display their contents.  Little stones that looked like chalky quartz; shiny metal thumb-sized canister/bullet looking things; sticks and twigs of varying lengths, widths, and colors; tiny glass jars full of other little stones; and thick cylinders of a solid yellow chalk-like substance.  Mung San (my colleague from Burma who is interning at CCL) said you can use it to make bombs or preserve food.  Based on the other things these women were selling, I think it was for preserving food.  Most of them were tiny and had wrinkled, wizened faces, but there was one woman in her 20s or  30s at the end of the row, on a slightly lower platform or maybe a plastic stool.  Makes you wonder how they get their position on the platform, all these women, one after the other, selling the same thing from the same woven plastic bags.

There were so many other things to see – lots of people carrying impossible-looking loads on their heads.  One man had a stack of probably 15 foam mattresses on his head, each covered in a different garishly colored fabric – bold blue, bright yellow, fire-engine red.  I don’t know how he managed to balance all of that, walking through those crowded, unevenly paved/unpaved streets.

We went to a store where Nadja could buy sheets – I’m really glad I brought my own!!!  They are expensive and not very nice.  And the patterns are amazing.  It’s like someone went into Microsoft paint and chose all the colors and all the “insert shape” or “insert pattern”.  Some of them were reminiscent of those really terrible Powerpoint themes.  I’m also glad I brought my down duvet, as the blanket selection consists of fuzzy “ super-soft mink” fleece blankets that are brown with bright pink and red roses or polyester quilts with sequins and shine.  Kinda like Disney on LSD.

After Mercato, we took a mini-bus back to Bole (pronounced Bo-lay), where Nadja lives with some other expats and one other guy from the office.  We ate lunch at their house – a bright, airy, peaceful spot with three (non-rabid) dogs (Taco, Frodo, and Sam).  Then we went shopping around Bole – we stopped at a really nice handicraft shop and then we got ice cream.  It’s amazing how different these two parts of the city are.  Bole still has all the compounds, but the compounds there have bougainvillea creeping over the sides – a riot of pinks, reds, and orange – plus countless other flowering vines that I couldn’t identify.  One person had even created a container garden that ran the length of their wall with fuchsias, vincas, and some other annuals.  And the ice cream was delicious and there is not as much dust in the air.  But that might also be because it is a Saturday so traffic is not as bad today.

Morning Commute - Day One

I arrived to Addis late-ish Wednesday night.  Thursday morning, I woke up at 3:45, attempted to "meditate"/sleep some more, and finally got out of bed to get ready for a full day at the office at 6am.

Thursday morning, this was my morning commute.  Far cry from my 60 minute, climate-controlled drive down the highway.

11)      15 minute walk on a dirt/crumbling stone path along the main thoroughfare behind a man carrying a load of firewood.  A gaggle(?) of donkeys were being herded down one of the side streets – not sure where they were off to. 

22)      My coworker Mung San (who is also staying at Cherokee House) decided to bypass the 20 minute wait in a single-file line for the quicker mini-bus, so we hopped on one bound for a less-direct route.

33)      10 minute mini-bus ride, which was not overcrowded because apparently the drivers knew there was a traffic police stop along the way so he actually followed the rules.  We were still stuck in the back of the 12 passenger van, in the least popular seat, but the pollution wasn’t too bad yet in the morning so we cracked one of the windows and it was fine.

44)      We got out at another mini-bus stop, crossed the 2 lane traffic circle, and waited for another coworker on the other side to pick us up.

55)      10 minute ride in Desalegn’s (our finance manager) car.  Probably an early 90s Toyota Corolla?

And now I’ve had my morning coffee and am getting caught up on email on the slightly faster than dial up connection.  The sun is shining and the birds are chirping and it is really lovely here in the office!

Habibi, habibi

Back in Cairo. Getting reacquainted with the incessant honking, beeping, and blaring of horns. Dodging trash and traffic and the occasional hungry stray cat. And blocking out the hisses and welcomes and marriage proposals. Actually, all of this has been relatively easy to do since I’ve spent a large part of the past 4 days in Dana’s swank Dokki apartment, watching the balcony life across the way. We’re up on the 6th floor and the people across from us on the 5th and 6th lead really interesting and lively lives. Yesterday, they were having a Friday family gathering—people kept coming in and out of the apartments with food and drinks. Women on one balcony, men on another. Right now, there is a woman sitting in the window, with a pink towl under her chin. I can’t tell if she is getting some sort of facial treatment or if there is something else going on there. The apartment exteriors are dingy—beige, gray, and yellow with paint and concrete peeling. Clotheslines and wires dangling all over and emerging from random holes carved into the balconies—I’m thinking that could be bootleg TV. Maybe? There is one lone apartment to the left that is painted bright salmon with magenta doors. Well, at one point it was bright pink—now it is dirty rose. With dusty houseplants on the pink ringed balcony. Below that is an apartment with a giant German Shepard. He gets the thin sliver of balcony as his lair—it is covered in dingy carpets and blankets with one bright yellow and red squeeze toy.

Two days ago, we went to a restaurant where we had pigeon. With the heads still on. It was delicious, despite the glazed over eye sockets staring up at you from the plate. First, they are stuffed with a spicy rice—lots of mulling-type spices, I think. Then, they are boiled, and then they are fried. You hold them by their tiny wings—who knew wings were so small! And gently bite down, spinal cord first. The cooks leave the hearts, livers, and other organs in the rice mixture, approximately in the correct anatomical position. But I took those out and put them on my plate next to the head. Oh my. Also, the best tahini ever, some pickles, salad and some sort of delicious soup in a cup. One guy said it was pureed bird guts. But I chose to ignore that comment. Then off to El-Horea, a 1930s-era coffeehouse where they also serve Stella behind a screen, separated from the street. More peeling yellow paint, tall ceilings, and men with lots of empty bottles on their tables. It was a good time.

Last night, we stayed in, ordered Fuddruckers’ cheeseburgers from Otlob—a delivery service—and watched the Gilmore Girls. And ate cheesecake and brownies. And watched more Gilmore Girls. And then a couple more episodes. It was excellent.

Tonight, I am off to Aswan on the overnight sleeper train. Swank! I hear the dinner and breakfast we get rivals that of Egypt Air. I can’t wait ;-p

Oh, and Happy Habibi Day!

A new favorite pair of jeans?

So, after a brief stay in Sultanhamet at the (less-than) Cordial Hostel, I up and moved across the Galata Bridge (yay first international flight ever) to a the Chamber of the Boheme, right off Istiklal Street. It is neither as mysterious or as risque as it sounds. Que lastima. It is run by a rather rude fellow named Ahmed, who apparently likes to personify women in online chat rooms so he can talk to straight men. But he also likes to hit on all the women in the hostel and beg for kisses. Haven't quite figured that one out yet.

The up side is that the hostel is smack dab in the middle of the most happening part of town--a lovely shopping street closed to cars and full of bars, pubs, and cafes. The down side is that it is smack dab in the middle....of a lovely shopping street and EVERYTHING is on sale. Everything. And so I bought a new pair of jeans to replace the Egytpian fiasco that were intended to replace the favorite pair I sold for a dollar. And now I want to buy another pair. The store even hems them for you for free! That's a deal, right?

Oh my, I surely need to leave İstanbul before anymore damage is done to my credit card.

Whirlwınd!

Breezed through Caıro, Beırut, Damascus, Aleppo, and now Cappadochıa. More on all that later!

Scuba Fin

Whoops. That title was a typo but probably appropriate. So I will just leave it!

So, today, I started my scuba class. I got my book last night and attempted to read the whole thing starting around 9pm. That obviously didn't happen. So I got up at 6 to try and finish at least the first three chapters. Which, apparently, is way more than anyone else does because the scuba dude was SHOCKED I had done my homework. I guess I haven't gotten over school yet.

But scuba was AwESOME. So far, at least. Just being in the pool. Really bizarre, but awesome. It was so wierd breathing under water. At first, I couldn't stop laughing. And once I got over that, I had to remember to breathe deeply and continuously, just like the PADI book said. (Ah, PADI book--PADI's motto for scuba diving is "Meet People. Go Places. Do Things." So deep.) But now I want to swim around underwater all over the place. I'm really psyched about the boat tomorrow and diving in the OCEAN! And seeing fish instead of minature acorns. Although the pool was lovely. A little garden resort with all sorts of tropical flowers and colors and little resort-y people sitting on deck chairs. And the most wonderful towels ever. And a shower in a fake cave.

But ok, off to see what we can see of drenched Phuket. Apparently, the rainy season is not over. Sigh.

Oh, the one other awesome thing that the PADI video said was: If you ever get bored with scuba diving, it is your own fault. Ah, the wisdom of PADI.

Angkor What?