Logic in Africa

There we were staring into the face of adversity, and I am not just talking about driving on the opposite side of the road. A final gut wrenching climb brought us to the Ethiopian border where we were greeted by the usual touts and drove through what we thought was an unmanned boom in search of customs and immigration. An armed border official brought us to a hostile halt. We were mobbed by more touts and children.

“Give me your passports”

“Who said that?” A plain clothed “customs official” demanded we give him our passports. Four well-seasoned travelers all thought as one “Voetsek!!!” Once established that the said individual had no ID, he became irate and sought the backup of the armed border official who promptly told us to “Go back to Kenya”.

Realizing that logic wasn’t getting us anywhere we weighed up our options. With the Isiolo - Moyale road still fresh in our memories, we had to concede and tried to show them our passports through the window, to which the response was “there are no tiefs in Ethiopia, give me your passports”. Well, what could we do? With four hands poised ready to burst open the doors and chase after our passports in case he was in fact a tief, we waited with baited breath as our visas were scratched and sniffed for authenticity.

It turns out that a uniform has little meaning here. Once the officials were pacified and immigration – a different man this time with no uniform but he had a desk and a stamp – had stamped our visas, we learned that the government had given customs the day off. With strong suspicions that this was our punishment for logical thinking, we insisted on being served and refused to hang about in the crappy Moyale border town for two days. Eventually after Jill and my powers of female persuasion, the armed guard called in a favor and a customs official sauntered down the street in a kikoy and slops to stamp our car into Ethiopia.

Ethiopia is a strange place and very different to any other country we have been in thus far. It seems quite opposite to other African countries, in that the towns are not so great but cities are much more pleasant. Apart from fantastic tarred roads and beautiful landscapes, until we reached Addis Ababa the people of Ethiopia had left us wondering why we were here at all. Towns people would shout and scream at us with such anger, throw sticks and stones at the car and generally give you a look that is anything but welcoming. Everywhere you go an echo of “You you you farangi you you you farangi, give me money, give me money” rings in your ears.

Ethiopians we have spoken to in the city explain this behavior away as their culture but I am not convinced. In contrast, many Ethiopians we have met in the city of Addis are so welcoming and friendly. For the time being we are just confused by the country. However, we did experience some phenomenal local singing and dancing at a club the other night. The dancing is almost like body popping but with more rhythm and flow. It’s really impressive. The shoulder shrug/jerk is our new thing – wow, what silly farangi’s (foreigners) we are.

Campbell enjoying a well deserved local beer (St George) in Addis Ababa. Check out the puffy hair. It has since been cut by yours truly - I have discovered a hidden talent to control, to some degree, Campbell's thick locks >>>

On another note, Kaspuur has been to the doctor to replace the rear shocks and for a wheel alignment. Isiolo – Moyale strikes again, although all-in-all not a bad damage report considering what we put her through. Our Egyptian visas are all shiny and new but hold thumbs for the Sudanese visas for us!!

Kaspuur at the doctors >>>