I get a friend to play with
Right, where did I leave you last, I was in Somaliland talking about Ethiopia. Now I’m in Ethiopia and will have to back track once again to talk about Somaliland. But first we have to get there.
Tristam arrived at silly O’clock in the morning and took an African amount of time to get though the gates. Within 24 hours he was in a chat bar chewing on the popular and mildly narcotic (like red-bull level) leaves and smoking shisha. He has thrown himself into eating Ethiopian food, drinking Ethiopian beer, chatting to Ethiopian locals, and listening to Ethiopian music. Everything he approaches with intelligence and insight. I get o see the life I’m living now from a completely different perspective and I’m really enjoying it.
Also for me I am enjoying the utter luxury of having my very own friend who has known me for over a decade. I real friend knows when you are talking shite and isn’t afraid to call you up on it. People that you meet along the way can’t always tell and would never point it out. I’m indulging in reminiscing over a shared history and also getting to see how I have changed.
When I last saw Tristam I was pretty darn pagan. Now I have grown a lack of belief in the necessity of religion and see more and more how religious beliefs hinder rather than serve humankind. I think that the more I travel (or get older) the more I stretch my labels: e.g. from ‘New Zealander’ to ‘westerner’ from ‘atheist-pagan existentialist eclectic Jungian witch’ to ‘non-religious’. Perhaps I’m just simplifying myself.
I took Tristam to my school where the kids all had the opportunity to ask him questions about New Zealand gun laws and other random stuff. They even took the opportunity to ask me why I always wear black (because I like it).
After obtaining our visas from the difficult-to-find but rather lovely Somaliland representation in Addis, the four of us (Sarah, Darius, Tristam and myself) set off before sunrise to the bus station. It took us about an hour and many lungfuls of diesel fumes to get onto the right bus. By 8am we were on our way east.
We spent two nights in a fun filled town called Harrah. We hired a guide for the day, smoked shisha, visited local houses, went jewelry shopping, drunk local tea and coffee, chewed chat, wandered though markets, visited a museum, visited a coffee factory, visited a catholic church, fed wild hyenas, played with a dodgy contraband lion club, empathized with a chained monkey, took loads of photos and generally enjoyed a cool town. It’s really amazing how much you can actually fit into one day when you want to.
After Harrah we headed to Jigjiga where the police checks started. At the second police check while we were waiting off the bus for the cops to go though and half-heartedly squeeze luggage, a not-quite-right-in-the-head old dude tried to take a piece of the pomegranate I was eating. But no crusty starving, skinning old man from a developing country is going to take my food so I held on in a weird non-aggressive tug-of-war until some solders approached and scared him away.
Our 3rd police check was the longest, all the foreigners, which included our party of four, a Somali origin Swede and his Somali uncle and cousin were taken from the bus with all our luggage. Then the bus drove off. We were questioned and held for a couple of hours before being released. Just reading over that it sounds really dramatic. But we weren’t separated or tided to chairs or anything. It was just inconvenient and boring. I was feeling sick and not in a particularly patient mood.
The overly helpful Swede arranged for us all an overpriced taxi to the boarder. He annoyed me a lot because he would say everything several times over and constantly update us with inaccurate information…. which is my job.
We crossed the Ethiopian-Somaliland border at sunset. No problems, On the Somaliland side the official sat on the floor chewing chat behind his desk. Actually the Somaliland ambassador also provided an excellent foreshadowing to the warm, gentle, friendly nature of our Somaliland experience.
Tristam arrived at silly O’clock in the morning and took an African amount of time to get though the gates. Within 24 hours he was in a chat bar chewing on the popular and mildly narcotic (like red-bull level) leaves and smoking shisha. He has thrown himself into eating Ethiopian food, drinking Ethiopian beer, chatting to Ethiopian locals, and listening to Ethiopian music. Everything he approaches with intelligence and insight. I get o see the life I’m living now from a completely different perspective and I’m really enjoying it.
Also for me I am enjoying the utter luxury of having my very own friend who has known me for over a decade. I real friend knows when you are talking shite and isn’t afraid to call you up on it. People that you meet along the way can’t always tell and would never point it out. I’m indulging in reminiscing over a shared history and also getting to see how I have changed.
When I last saw Tristam I was pretty darn pagan. Now I have grown a lack of belief in the necessity of religion and see more and more how religious beliefs hinder rather than serve humankind. I think that the more I travel (or get older) the more I stretch my labels: e.g. from ‘New Zealander’ to ‘westerner’ from ‘atheist-pagan existentialist eclectic Jungian witch’ to ‘non-religious’. Perhaps I’m just simplifying myself.
I took Tristam to my school where the kids all had the opportunity to ask him questions about New Zealand gun laws and other random stuff. They even took the opportunity to ask me why I always wear black (because I like it).
After obtaining our visas from the difficult-to-find but rather lovely Somaliland representation in Addis, the four of us (Sarah, Darius, Tristam and myself) set off before sunrise to the bus station. It took us about an hour and many lungfuls of diesel fumes to get onto the right bus. By 8am we were on our way east.
We spent two nights in a fun filled town called Harrah. We hired a guide for the day, smoked shisha, visited local houses, went jewelry shopping, drunk local tea and coffee, chewed chat, wandered though markets, visited a museum, visited a coffee factory, visited a catholic church, fed wild hyenas, played with a dodgy contraband lion club, empathized with a chained monkey, took loads of photos and generally enjoyed a cool town. It’s really amazing how much you can actually fit into one day when you want to.
After Harrah we headed to Jigjiga where the police checks started. At the second police check while we were waiting off the bus for the cops to go though and half-heartedly squeeze luggage, a not-quite-right-in-the-head old dude tried to take a piece of the pomegranate I was eating. But no crusty starving, skinning old man from a developing country is going to take my food so I held on in a weird non-aggressive tug-of-war until some solders approached and scared him away.
Our 3rd police check was the longest, all the foreigners, which included our party of four, a Somali origin Swede and his Somali uncle and cousin were taken from the bus with all our luggage. Then the bus drove off. We were questioned and held for a couple of hours before being released. Just reading over that it sounds really dramatic. But we weren’t separated or tided to chairs or anything. It was just inconvenient and boring. I was feeling sick and not in a particularly patient mood.
The overly helpful Swede arranged for us all an overpriced taxi to the boarder. He annoyed me a lot because he would say everything several times over and constantly update us with inaccurate information…. which is my job.
We crossed the Ethiopian-Somaliland border at sunset. No problems, On the Somaliland side the official sat on the floor chewing chat behind his desk. Actually the Somaliland ambassador also provided an excellent foreshadowing to the warm, gentle, friendly nature of our Somaliland experience.
posted by Rachel | 11:35 pm
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