May: not spectacular

This is the third time I’m writing this, last time I managed to complete the whole thing before the computer fucked up. It’s so typical here. It is so frustrating.


May has not been the best moth all told. The best bits seemed to come from the anticipation of leaving. I’m at that exciting time of planning and booking journeys. I depart Addis on the 8th of July. I’ll spend 4 days back in Yemen before heading to London. There I’ll hang with Tristam for a couple of weeks, acclimatize to modern living, give myself a make over. There is going to be a lot of scrubbing and strategic hair removal. Then I’ll spend a few nights with Missy and up to Edinburgh in August. I’ve been counting down the days for ages. 24 days until I leave Ethiopia.


Some kid stole my wallet. I share an office with 3 other unit leaders. It is where the naughty kids are sent. This particular 15 year old lad was left alone in the office and found my wallet on my desk to be irresistible. I went to all the upper grade classes and told them that the wallet was protected by ‘the law of karma’ and that whosoever had it would feel the ‘curse’ until it returned. They would be plagued by bad luck, their friends would exclude them and their parents wouldn’t listen to them … and all other things that adolescents feel anyway. I was exploiting my dark wardrobe and innate weirdness.


It could have been the threat of the curse or the other unit leaders’ interrogation methods. But the boy confessed and brought it back, two weeks later he bought back the photo of missy and myself from the good-ol-days and the money (4usd). He was suspended for a week and won’t be accepted back next year. I asked him why he did it: “the devil made me do it.” He got a lecture on personal responsibility. Also missing from my office is a thesaurus that AK brought back from India and all my photo CDs… yes, all my photos. I now only have photos from Ethiopia. Crap.


If you have something stolen in Ethiopia is always your fault, your locks weren’t strong enough or you didn’t hide it well enough. It is never considered that the thief shouldn’t be stealing. This could be why in the 10 African countries this is the only place where I have had stuff stolen. Also could be because it is poor and Christian. Christianity promotes forgiveness, redemption and salvation. Islam promotes hands of thieves being cut off… guess which places have less theft.



The rains have started again. It’s nice. They are fresh and cooling and sometimes there are thunderstorms. It kind of feels full circle for me again. We are also starting to get bitten again. First I thought it was the usual mites, fleas and mosquitoes, and then Sarah pointed out the two tiny puncture wounds on each bite… from the fangs of a spider. I don’t have spidy-sences just yet. I’m hoping super powers will develop soon.


My birthday was this month; I’m now 32 years old. I cooked my flatmates a half Scottish breakfast (like a full Scottish breakfast but without the black pudding or haggis). It was the first time in a long time that we had had bacon. We (Sarah, Daruis our two maids and I) went to the post office for too long, attempted to see a museum but it was closed due to power cut, and then hung out by the pool at the Hilton hotel. The maids loved it; they swam and took photos of each other in their new bikinis. We ate at a Yemen restaurant and caught a movie at the only cinema that plays western movies. It’s just exhausting leaving the house here. All that is an amazingly big day here.


Once again it is Sarah who has the best story of the month. She was attacked in a taxi late one night. Driving home he pulled over and started grabbing her, She said “No” “enough” etc, when that didn’t deter him she slapped him a few times, he got more aggressive so she punched him in the head and got out of the cap. She ran to a (very rare) open petrol station and got another taxi home.


She went to the police who are inept, corrupt and impotent. Then she called the US embassy ho are open, efficient and capable. The next night we went with the secret police who questioned all the taxi drivers from the area where Sarah got the taxi. That’s pretty much as far as it’ll go. Sarah was a bit shaken and really pissed off. It’s not very night that you fight your way our of a rape (it wasn’t a potential rape, if Sarah hadn’t punched the guy in the head and got out there is no doubt how it would have ended). That chick is though as steel.


The yearbook is going slowly, between teaching, technical difficulties and power cuts I think we can still pull it together. I’m still chasing Ebony and Kevin to return what they have taken from the school. Everybody else gave up a long time ago, but I still believe that there might be some shred of integrity within them that invokes a response.