It's suddenly more than halfway through my fieldwork, and I'm starting to wish I had at least a month more in Ethiopia. The interviews I've had were fairly interesting, though sometimes also rather predictable. I'm starting to wonder if I'm too confrontational or journalistic in my interviews in that I tend to put forward interpretations of events that I know would not sit well with my interviewees, just to see how they would react. I'm not sure that's an advisable tactic, and to be honest, to call it a tactic is exaggerating the amount of forethought that went into it. When it comes right down to it, when I'm being serious about something I'm pretty confrontational. The archival work has only just started, and I'm only starting to realise how much there is to look through. On Monday when I hit the archives again, I'm bringing my camera. I'm going to have so much stuff to go through, I've no idea whether I have enough time.
It's a Saturday, and I did ponder for hours the merits of travelling out of my room. But I've got work to do, and the sky is grey, and I've been running around the past few days, and it just happens the internet is working for now (sshhh, don't startle it!). Plus I'm a lazy ass traveller. Some of you might know this already.
Anyway, this week I've been spending more time in the considerably more rarefied atmosphere of the UNECA building and the AU compound. Within those little pockets of cosmopolitanism, there's less harrassment, though I still often get the 'Are you Japanese?' But at least it's not shouted at me from across the street as a part-question, part-greeting, part-jeer, part-call for attention. (Incidentally, though I've going on about all these people shouting at me, at times it's rather more benign. Couple of days ago, two girls shouted at me 'Hey China!' and when I turned around to look at them they started giggling and ran away. Annoying, but didn't feel particularly threatening.)
In these compounds I also met people who spoke with an American accent, and at first I thought they might be African Americans, but turns out the rich kids here go to these schools where they pick up an American accent. Figures.
It's also slightly annoying that people here don't usually reply to emails, and you can't get to talk to them unless you actually turn up on their doorstep. Yes, that makes the fieldwork so much easier.
So. Saturday, lots of thoughts about going out, gave in to inertia, and now I need to start working.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
A Perfume Excursion
Suddenly, I feel like wearing Agent Provocateur. I didn't wear it much when I was in Singapore because it is one of those perfumes that is just 'too much', especially in the Singaporean heat and humidity. Because I didn't wear it much in Singapore, I never thought of bringing it along with me. Just goes to show that I'll always regret not bringing every single perfume I have everywhere with me.
Monday, September 05, 2011
The Great Ethiopian Adventure - The Skanky Issue
Yes, I just gave money to prostitutes. Anyone interested in finding out the unfortunately not very skanky details (and won't scold me for taking unnecessary risks) can ask me. ;)
Sunday, September 04, 2011
Two Days into the Great Ethiopian Adventure
Addis and I got off on a bad foot. I arrived at the airport, and my first encounter with the people of Addis was when a crowd of taxi drivers tried to grab my luggage and make me get on their cab, no doubt so they could charge me an exorbitant rate.
This set the tone for the rest of my first day in Addis when, totally exhausted from the journey, I nevertheless attempted to walk around near the hotel and, later in the day, ventured into the upper echelons in Hilton (not my hotel!) to buy a local SIM card. On hindsight, doing that while I was seconds away from comatose was probably a bad idea.
First, the poverty - the area I'm staying in is supposedly the wealthy neighbourhood of Addis. This means that while the sideroads are still dirt, the main roads are paved, hooray! For the first few minutes of my first walkabout in Addis, I was a bit puzzled by the sheer number of youths and young boys sitting on the street with little buckets of dirty water. It wasn't long before my shoes were caked with mud and I realised that (1) it's the rainy season, (2) most of the roads are dirt paths (in the wealthiest neighbourhood in Addis!), and so people get their shoes cleaned by these boys. But being hyper-conscious (see below) of my foreign tourist status, and being absolutely certain I'll get charged some horrendous amount for the same service, I refused to stop to get my shoes cleaned. Yay dirty shoes!
Ignoring all the little children asking for money also made me feel like a bitch.
At one point I also saw a guy carrying a rifle and having been deluged with images of Africans carrying guns, I silently freaked out for a while before realising that he was standing in front some sort of government building. (Note to self: try not to stare too obviously at guys carrying guns.) To be fair to me, the government building was seriously nondescript and didn't look at all like a government-building-deserving-of-scary-looking-armed-guard. I've since discovered that they have these armed guards in front of all sorts of buildings, even the Ministry of Health and the Radio & Broadcasting Building.
Second, the near-panic of coming under intense scrutiny by every single person who sees me. I guess I'm used to more-or-less blending in in a fairly cosmopolitan environment. Here, I stand out because I'm chinese - I keep getting people calling out 'China!' after me, or the equally misinformed who've cast wider nets: 'China, Japan, Korea!' Every single taxi driver I've met has seen fit to tell me that there're now many Chinese in Addis helping to build roads. A particularly wide road was pointed out to me as being of Chinese origin. Not that I've seen more than 3 or 4Chinese (all men). Also, (and this was almost inevitable) today an old guy shouted at me (in perfect English!) 'You chinese are poor people! Why don't you go back to your own country!' This was such a familiar sentiment, it was almost reassuring to finally hear it.
I also stand out because despite being in my rattiest shirt and jeans, my clothes still look much MUCH better than the vast majority of the people on the streets. I find myself wishing I had more dirt on my clothes so I don't look so goddamn rich. EVERYBODY stares at me.
Today, two particularly obnoxious guys tried to talk to me and when met with a stony wall of silence, asked 'Why are you running? Are you scared of us?' Thus, I learnt that in addition to being foreign and rich, I was also conspicuous because I was walking much faster than everyone else on the street. Later on, after being bombarded with requests for the time by people who were trying to start a conversation/pickpocket me/get the time, I also realised that it might be a bad idea to wear a watch when everyone else's wrist is unadorned.
Third, I didn't know my bloody way around, and didn't want to keep consulting my map. I flagged a taxi to bring me back to my hotel after visiting Hilton, but neither the driver nor I knew the way. And so we ended up on a merry-go-round in which both of us got increasingly frustrated because the road names on my map didn't match the road names he knew. The people here don't put much stock in road names and go mainly by landmarks. Too bad for the tourist who relies on a map. So the street I knew as Cape Verde Street, he knew as EU street because the EU is located there. The street I knew as Ghana Street, he knew as Urael street, after a church on the street. I think he nearly threw me out of his cab. In the end, when we finally found our way, he demanded nearly twice the agreed fare, and I was really too tired to argue. Let's just say I don't think he was unhappy about this little adventure at all. He even said 'ciao!' as I legged it out of his cab.
So I ended my first day tired, hungry, and more than a little miserable. Luckily, with warm food at the hotel and a good sleep, today was much better. I managed to find the National Library (I walked past it twice before identifying it), walked into a couple of bookshops (and spotted some books that I'll buy before going back to the UK), walked past the National Museum, and finally ate injera, a local pancake-like thing made of sourdough that you eat with meat/stew. While walking through the city, I managed to walk through this area which looked pretty much like a slum to me, a long dirt road with small shack dwellings and mats spread along the road with various types of produce for sale. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought I was in a small kampong in the Malaysian countryside 20 years ago. While I was walking, I kept wondering when the road would end and whether I'd end up in some strange place outside the city centre. I didn't dare turn back, because there were so many people staring at me, and I didn't want to look lost. And of course when I finally emerged from that strange road, right in front of me was this enormous walled compound with (yet another!) armed guard and a big sign saying 'no photography'. It was as if I'd emerged into a different world with paved roads and expensive cars. It was only later that I learnt this was the Prime Minister's residence.
Gosh, I just realised all these reflections are based on just 2 days in Addis. One last thing before I stop writing for now. Walking in the city centre today, I saw quite a number of secondhand booksellers - not book stores, because most of the time the books are just placed on a piece of tarpaulin along the road. The more established ones have a permanent shack to house the books. While most of these books were fiction and looked like they were printed in the 1970s (lots of young adult fiction that looked really ancient), I saw some really interesting ones. For example, Marx and Engels 'On Britain', a book by Ayn Rand, a book on African philosophy, and a seller tried to interest me in a book on Japanese culture (no doubt he thought I was Japanese, though why a Japanese would need to read a book on Japanese culture is beyond me). Of course at least 60% of the books for sale were in Amharic, so my observations are based on the book titles I could read.
I'm dead tired from walking today. I must have spent 4hours walking, most of the time taking huge detours because I was trying not to look lost. If you only get to know a city after getting lost in it, I must know Addis bloody well by now. Though a taxi driver I met today thought I'd been living in Addis for quite a while. I guess I'm good at looking confident and... lost? No, not lost at all! (I needed a taxi because I was, of course, lost.)
(The Great Ethiopian Adventure to be continued...)
This set the tone for the rest of my first day in Addis when, totally exhausted from the journey, I nevertheless attempted to walk around near the hotel and, later in the day, ventured into the upper echelons in Hilton (not my hotel!) to buy a local SIM card. On hindsight, doing that while I was seconds away from comatose was probably a bad idea.
First, the poverty - the area I'm staying in is supposedly the wealthy neighbourhood of Addis. This means that while the sideroads are still dirt, the main roads are paved, hooray! For the first few minutes of my first walkabout in Addis, I was a bit puzzled by the sheer number of youths and young boys sitting on the street with little buckets of dirty water. It wasn't long before my shoes were caked with mud and I realised that (1) it's the rainy season, (2) most of the roads are dirt paths (in the wealthiest neighbourhood in Addis!), and so people get their shoes cleaned by these boys. But being hyper-conscious (see below) of my foreign tourist status, and being absolutely certain I'll get charged some horrendous amount for the same service, I refused to stop to get my shoes cleaned. Yay dirty shoes!
Ignoring all the little children asking for money also made me feel like a bitch.
At one point I also saw a guy carrying a rifle and having been deluged with images of Africans carrying guns, I silently freaked out for a while before realising that he was standing in front some sort of government building. (Note to self: try not to stare too obviously at guys carrying guns.) To be fair to me, the government building was seriously nondescript and didn't look at all like a government-building-deserving-of-scary-looking-armed-guard. I've since discovered that they have these armed guards in front of all sorts of buildings, even the Ministry of Health and the Radio & Broadcasting Building.
Second, the near-panic of coming under intense scrutiny by every single person who sees me. I guess I'm used to more-or-less blending in in a fairly cosmopolitan environment. Here, I stand out because I'm chinese - I keep getting people calling out 'China!' after me, or the equally misinformed who've cast wider nets: 'China, Japan, Korea!' Every single taxi driver I've met has seen fit to tell me that there're now many Chinese in Addis helping to build roads. A particularly wide road was pointed out to me as being of Chinese origin. Not that I've seen more than 3 or 4Chinese (all men). Also, (and this was almost inevitable) today an old guy shouted at me (in perfect English!) 'You chinese are poor people! Why don't you go back to your own country!' This was such a familiar sentiment, it was almost reassuring to finally hear it.
I also stand out because despite being in my rattiest shirt and jeans, my clothes still look much MUCH better than the vast majority of the people on the streets. I find myself wishing I had more dirt on my clothes so I don't look so goddamn rich. EVERYBODY stares at me.
Today, two particularly obnoxious guys tried to talk to me and when met with a stony wall of silence, asked 'Why are you running? Are you scared of us?' Thus, I learnt that in addition to being foreign and rich, I was also conspicuous because I was walking much faster than everyone else on the street. Later on, after being bombarded with requests for the time by people who were trying to start a conversation/pickpocket me/get the time, I also realised that it might be a bad idea to wear a watch when everyone else's wrist is unadorned.
Third, I didn't know my bloody way around, and didn't want to keep consulting my map. I flagged a taxi to bring me back to my hotel after visiting Hilton, but neither the driver nor I knew the way. And so we ended up on a merry-go-round in which both of us got increasingly frustrated because the road names on my map didn't match the road names he knew. The people here don't put much stock in road names and go mainly by landmarks. Too bad for the tourist who relies on a map. So the street I knew as Cape Verde Street, he knew as EU street because the EU is located there. The street I knew as Ghana Street, he knew as Urael street, after a church on the street. I think he nearly threw me out of his cab. In the end, when we finally found our way, he demanded nearly twice the agreed fare, and I was really too tired to argue. Let's just say I don't think he was unhappy about this little adventure at all. He even said 'ciao!' as I legged it out of his cab.
So I ended my first day tired, hungry, and more than a little miserable. Luckily, with warm food at the hotel and a good sleep, today was much better. I managed to find the National Library (I walked past it twice before identifying it), walked into a couple of bookshops (and spotted some books that I'll buy before going back to the UK), walked past the National Museum, and finally ate injera, a local pancake-like thing made of sourdough that you eat with meat/stew. While walking through the city, I managed to walk through this area which looked pretty much like a slum to me, a long dirt road with small shack dwellings and mats spread along the road with various types of produce for sale. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought I was in a small kampong in the Malaysian countryside 20 years ago. While I was walking, I kept wondering when the road would end and whether I'd end up in some strange place outside the city centre. I didn't dare turn back, because there were so many people staring at me, and I didn't want to look lost. And of course when I finally emerged from that strange road, right in front of me was this enormous walled compound with (yet another!) armed guard and a big sign saying 'no photography'. It was as if I'd emerged into a different world with paved roads and expensive cars. It was only later that I learnt this was the Prime Minister's residence.
Gosh, I just realised all these reflections are based on just 2 days in Addis. One last thing before I stop writing for now. Walking in the city centre today, I saw quite a number of secondhand booksellers - not book stores, because most of the time the books are just placed on a piece of tarpaulin along the road. The more established ones have a permanent shack to house the books. While most of these books were fiction and looked like they were printed in the 1970s (lots of young adult fiction that looked really ancient), I saw some really interesting ones. For example, Marx and Engels 'On Britain', a book by Ayn Rand, a book on African philosophy, and a seller tried to interest me in a book on Japanese culture (no doubt he thought I was Japanese, though why a Japanese would need to read a book on Japanese culture is beyond me). Of course at least 60% of the books for sale were in Amharic, so my observations are based on the book titles I could read.
I'm dead tired from walking today. I must have spent 4hours walking, most of the time taking huge detours because I was trying not to look lost. If you only get to know a city after getting lost in it, I must know Addis bloody well by now. Though a taxi driver I met today thought I'd been living in Addis for quite a while. I guess I'm good at looking confident and... lost? No, not lost at all! (I needed a taxi because I was, of course, lost.)
(The Great Ethiopian Adventure to be continued...)
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