1.       A policeman repainting a zebra crossing (then protecting it from the traffic)

2.       Puppies being sold out of a carrier bag (small dogs not boobies)

3.       The sentence “I’m sorry, the cheese is reserved”

4.       The sentence “instead of coal, Santa is instead giving naughty children… Elf Cum” (thanks cards against humanity, the new best game to play whilst drinking)

5.       A text message reading “I invite you coffee and korn 4.30”. If your wondering, it turned out to be post rainy season corn on the cob (still weird), not coffee and popular 90’s and 00’s metal band Korn…

6.       “You look like Chris Akabusi”

7.       “OK, you look nothing like Chris Akabusi. But you have the essence of Chris Akabusi”

8.       “You are the longest man”. Being called long I wouldn’t bat an eyelid at, but longest is quite the compliment…

9.       I’m paraphrasing this one a bit, but someone who I thought was quite intelligent said this to me: “Europe and America are having all these problems (financial, terrorism, climate, etc.) because so many people are not following the Christian religion anymore. That’s why Africa’s doing alright.”

10.   “Do you have monkeys in England? Are they White instead?” This one seems like simply a clever joke, having just seen some gibbons by the side of the road. The issue came when we saw a disabled man in Addis a few hours later, and the same person pointed and said something along the lines of “see, do you have such monkeys like this England, are they white instead…”

Apologies for the longer than usual break in blogging, I’m gonna make it up to you all with a few weeks of blogs which promise to be even more awesome than usual. This week is another one of those random news mash ups. Enjoy

Chu-chu. So for  those who have forgotten, Chu-chu is the daughter of the family who lives on my compound. She had her 9^th birthday a few weeks ago, and so I thought I should try and rustle up a present. I suck at buying presents, and my default gift voucher option isn’t really suitable here. However, a friend of mine had an old skipping rope kicking about a box of kids crap she had (erm, not actual crap, that would be very odd). Stick that bad boy in some wrapping paper, and Bob’s the uncle who spends a little bit too long at your house. Life is still a learning curve here sometimes, and I soon realised is that there is clearly a cultural thing where you shouldn’t open gifts in front of the person who has given you the gift. I’m saying “open it open it”, and she just stood there. I then went to buy a phone card and she was mid-opening the present when I appeared at the door. Present opening stops until I’m on my way, top up in hand. Weird, but it does save any of those awkward crappy present moments. Fortunately, this wouldn’t have been one of them, as she bloody loves that skipping rope. I gave her a lesson the day after, and I don’t think a day has gone by when I haven’t heard her jumping rope in the garden. I wonder if kids in England are that easy to make super happy! Photos below if you wanna see proof that Ethiopia has turned me soft…

Bobi. More compound related happiness: there’s been a dog (Bobi) on site for a good few months now. When he was a puppy he would run away from me. I then started giving him scraps of meat, which made us friends. Then I gave him a scratch behind the flea bitten ear every now and again and we’re friends for life. Now he’s got big, and vicious… except when he sees it’s me and wants to play. When you throw a dog toy my mum sent into the mix… we have a dog happier than Hugh Heffner’s pharmacist. Only problem is I kind of wanna bring him back to England, but seen as that would cost me best part of 3 grand, I don’t think that’s gonna happen…

One Sunday about a month ago there was a regional celebration of the start of the governments Blue Nile damn project. The two year anniversary of when the project was started. Three left, although I suspect it will over-run. This sounds trivial, but I just want you to think about it: a huge celebration of a part finished project, which everyone in the country was forced to “donate” to. This would be like every single county in England having a celebration of the high speed train project the government is supposed to be pushing. Every year. Even though work hasn’t even started on it yet. Oh, and taking an extra 5% out your salary one month for train tax. Crazyness….

We have just come off the back of that sad time of year where the Orthadox Christians are fasting. That’s the 55 days before Ethiopian Easter which was a week ago. By fasting this doesn’t, as you would think, mean no-one eats for 6 weeks. Instead, it means no meat or animal products for 6 weeks. Boooooo…. The best thing to eat here is the meat, so 55 days without being able to have shakla tibs has made life very difficult. I can still get meat for home, but the halal meat isn’t quite as good, and my regular butcher does a very good job of taking off the fat and giving me good cuts and a very very generous half kilo. So again, booooo to fasting… I can’t believe this is what god would want. And I have no idea why fish isn’t classed as an animal either. On the plus side, its now over, I’ve eaten meat nearly every day, I had two very good Easter dinners on the Sunday, and even had a very nice meal with my compound family on Friday. For all my complaining about life here at times, people really go out of their way to make you feel very welcome on the holidays.

On another meat related note, I had to go to Addis for work a while ago (see the per diem blog for details) and was able to fulfil the dream; meat based meals three times in a day. Tibs for breakfast, tibs for lunch, and golden blue for dinner. FYI, golden blue is not a local dish, I have no idea where they’ve learnt about it from, but it is basically meat stuffed with cheese. Has also been called a Gordon blue, or my personal favourite a Gordon Brown… although I suspect I should leave the delights of menu translations for another day. Anyway, it was good times, but not a balanced diet and not something I’d make a habit of!

Lastly, and this happened ages ago so I’m not sure why it’s taken me this long to mention, but they have brought out a new beer. It’s called Amber, made by the St. George beer company, and it’s delicious to the point that it’s my new favourite beer in the world. Only problem is it’s 6%, so a night on the Amber can get a little messy… still, no pain no gain right… oh, and I’m starting to think I have blogged about this before, which shows how good it is if I’ve forgotten…

Best birthday present ever…?

I realised a few things as I wrote last weeks blog. I realised I hadn’t given you a work update for ages, and I realised I hadn’t told you what I’d got done in my first year. Seen as I’ve had to fill in a report and do at least two presentations of the topic, I thought I’d better get an equivalent blogged for your delectation. Don’t worry; I’ll try not to use big words like delectation again today. I’m not even sure where that came from to be honest.

So, main achievements of year 1 in bullet point form:

• Secure, robust, wireless internet connection campus wide
• Proxy server (speeds things up) and internet filter (keeps porn out) installed
• Website (www.asselacte.edu.et)
• Training materials produced
• ICT staff able in a good position to cope without me

That’s the main things: there’s been a whole bunch of other smaller/ongoing stuff too, like reformatting and fixing all the machines in the IT lab, so that they have 22 machines working instead of 12. Plus, since I’ve been here I’m pretty sure I’ve seen 80% of the computers for some kind of virus problem, and got them working again.

So as you can see, amongst the slow days, frustrations, and occasional rant on facebook, when written in black and white I got a fair bit done. Good news. However, VSO have us here to do sustainable work. That has been somewhat of a different challenge, but I think I’ve managed it to some extent. Here are my methods:

• Insisted on 2 counterparts (splits the work up between them, and means if one of them is away, or leaves, then there’s still someone about to do the job)
• Produced extensive documentation. Everything to do with setting things up and fixing the main problems that crop up is written down in a nice clear format. Plus it’s accessible via “the cloud” or the big white folder in the office.
• Weekly ICT staff training. Every week we’ll cover something about fixing stuff, or maintaining stuff, or how things are set up.
• Finally, in the last three or so months, I’ve insisted ownership on resolving problems is handed to my counterparts. If someone comes in with a problem, I make them speak with my counterparts. Then, if my counterparts can’t fix it on their own, I go and help them. It’s kind of a tough love situation (but with no whips or chains).

So there you have it, achievements and sustainability. Now if I can just get the materials purchased for the LAN I got funded, and arrange the pc security and maintenance training I’ve had prepared for all the staff for the last 9 months, then maybe my final year here will end up even more successful than the first one.

Oh, and if this has made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, feel free to drop a couple of quid into the VSO coffers. The department for international aid are cutting funding like an angry wife in the wardrobe of her cheating husbands shirts, so donations from the adoring public are becoming ever important. Do it here: http://original.justgiving.com/hilldan

After a several year hiatus due to funding issues, VSO-Ethiopia were this year able to have an all volunteer conference. That has to be worth a blog right? Right? Yeah, why not….

I started writing this blog with a step by step of the few days. I got bored writing it, making me think you’d get bored reading it. So I figured maybe a critical review of the weekend was more appropriate. Hmmm… lets see…

Journeys: amazingly for Ethiopia all travel arrangements (even those made on public transport) were smoother than a plucked, shaved and waxed baby.

Food: generally pretty good. I even made a chip butty for lunch the day we left. And it was a buffet situation so I didn’t go hungry. Result.

Location: Lake Langano (its fun to say in a welsh accent I’ve just realised). The water was soft and brown (sounds scrummy right) but surprisingly warm and clean. And being sat drinking in the sun on a beach by water feels even better in light of how tough life is here.

The actual conference: It was arranged in the space of a couple of weeks, but was surprisingly well put together. As with anything where you have a mix of people, some of the activities weren’t up my street… but others were very useful. And they scheduled in a good amount of free time for chilling, as well as something called open space sessions at the end of each day, were volunteers could share some of there skills outside of work. So there were lessons on photography, reflexology, bird watching, cultural dancing, and many more besides. Seen as I have too much muscle for cultural dancing, I opted for the path of least effort; face painting – obviously I had to make it a man event, and got one of the girls from the program office to paint the Ethiopia flag on my face. Pompey and England flags on faces may be a feature of major football events from now on…

The evenings: Firstly, the film life of pi is cackhouse. Secondly, I’ve never realised how much I missed banter with people of the same age from the same country. I made a joke in my town about being a slim Ray Mears once and then had to explain to everyone who he is. Therefore stuff like being told I was dancing like Trevor and Simon I found double funny. Actually I was drunk at the time so treble funny. On the same night I took an impromptu dance class where people learned my mad hip-hop skills, and watched the extremely grumpy old Ethiopian cashier have a borderline breakdown when it got past his bedtime. Other nights also involved beer and banter. Good times…

Conclusion: the point of the conference was for all the volunteers to get to know each other. Seen as I think there are 3 people left from my intake a year ago and I think I knew about 20% of the 100+ people that were there, and when I left I’d spoken to 95% of the people, had a good laugh, and even learnt some stuff, I’d say the whole thing was a success.

Education conference: You thought we were finished didn’t you? Not quite – they tagged a day and a half education conference onto the end of the all-volunteer conference, with a few points that need a mention. Firstly, I had to do a presentation on what I’ve done in my first year and how I’d made my work sustainable. I’m not one for blowing my own trumpet (too many ribs I think), so I stuck to the facts and went through the details. I’ll turn this presentation into a work blog in a few weeks, but two surprising things happened. 1. Seeing things in black and white made me realise I have done a lot so far. Sometimes things here are so painfully slow you don’t realise until you tally things up just what you’ve achieved. Nice. 2. A lot of people told me what a good job I was doing, and how good the presentation was. In light of the big old hangover I was nursing and the fact I hate speaking to big groups, this was particularly nice. Even my program manager, came up afterwards with a huge beaming smile on her face, gave me a big hug, and said “Oh Dani, really brilliant”. I think it means more here because we’re not here for recognition and we don’t often get it – so it means more when we do. I should say after all this back patting to myself (another Trevor and Simon link for any aficionados out there) that the morning of experience sharing that my presentation was part of, had a lot of presentations from a lot of volunteers, and a lot of volunteers are doing a lot of really good work. Makes you realise we are making a difference, and Ethiopia is definitely better for our being here.

Well, on that upbeat note (nice after what’s felt like some very tough weeks) I’d better call this blog finished. As a treat though there are some photos below! Booya!

VSO Ethiopia All Volunteer Conference 2013

Today I will be unraveling (read “complaining with an element of understanding”) the greatest of all Ethiopian mysteries: that of the infamous “per diem”

First things first: what is a per diem? According to Wikipedia it means ‘per day’, ‘for each day’ or ‘hairy love length’ in Latin (and everyone says it’s not safe to use Wikipedia as a reliable source of research). In the context here; it’s basically extra money. Let me give you the VSO Ethiopia example: if we have to go to Addis for VSO business, VSO will reimburse us our travel and hotel, and give us about 90birr per diem to cover our food expenses.

So why are you dedicating a whole blog to the per diem I hear you shout from your Southern England Igloo? The reason is simple: it’s a pain in the neck. And a pain in the arse. And a pain in many other places as well. Let’s say for example I wanted to run a work shop/training session at the college for college staff in normal working hours.  You would think it would be simple; It’s work hours, if the staff don’t have lessons there should be no issue. However, the staff will expect, and want, a per diem. So assuming the college has the money available to spare (most colleges have a pot of money for training for this very reason), you can then organise your training. Of course, the fact staff are being paid on top of their wages does not mean they will turn up for your workshop on time and stay until the end. I even know of a story where someone didn’t even attend a workshop and still complained about the small per diem they collected!

Now don’t think this is just a college thing; the per diem is synonymous around Ethiopia. And I’m not saying I don’t get it, because I do – and here’s why. Last week I went to Addis with the college to try and get some concrete prices for some of the IT equipment I’m trying to get into the college (more on that another day maybe). My per diem for the trip was 320 birr. (12 quid) I think with water, coffee,  breakfast, lunch, and bus fares around Addis (we had transport to and from Assela) I spent around 120 birr – and this was more than most of my colleagues who didn’t buy any liquids the whole day. So that’s 200 birr extra money for the month. I really appreciate this – the college gives me 2500 birr a month, and it’s about enough to live on if I don’t leave the town for the month… so the 200 birr is a big help, meaning I can save a bit for the next time I have to go to Addis, where you’ll spend in excess of 1500 birr on a weekend without breaking a sweat. So if it helps me, I can understand how it helps the locals to claim every possible per diem for every possible training every possible time it’s available. Particularly when the wage of a primary school teacher is around 400 birr – one side trip to Addis would almost double their wages (although I guess they wouldn’t get that much or the opportunity)!

The problem is, as I see it, is it’s the wrong way to do it, and it’s escalated to the point where people are underpaid, and therefore don’t work as hard in their job; they focus on per diem trips and workshops to do anything. If they got paid properly and per diem’s didn’t exist, I like to think they’d go to workshops because it’s in work time and the training will improve their skills.

So, instead of per diems, instead of giving out set prices for a trip to Addis (FYI, there were four people in the car to Addis, and we all got different per diems for doing the same job), how about looking at it from the view it’s part of the work; pay them expenses on production of receipts up to a certain amount. Workshops shouldn’t require bribery, people should go because it will benefit them and they want to learn. I think if you stopped per diems, set 10% aside for a new expense system (hopefully one better monitored than the UK parliaments…) and then redistributed the money saved into increasing the wages of teachers and other civil servants, then people might be a bit more enthusiastic about doing their actual jobs. Then maybe the country would improve a little quicker than it is at the moment.

So, I’ve solved that problem. Now all we need is to change the culture of an entire country and show them that this is the way forward. Answers on a postcard about how we go about that one…

When I first arrived in Ethiopia over a year ago, Addis didn’t seem like the kind of place you’d want to go unless you had to. It was hot, dry, dusty and polluted. It was a capital city that seemed not to have much in the way of pavement. There were more beggars than a homeless convention offering free special brew. The transport system was more crowded than a popular nightclub with a drinks promotion and a fragrant disregard for the fire regulations. Oh, and you had to be as alert as a coked up guard dog against the constant threat of someone attempting to remove your belongings from about your person.

Well, that was then. Since then, every trip has uncovered a new delight and a new bit of love for the city which translates as “new flower”. The reasons? Well, its not the begging and petty robbery problem, which is still more rampant than a pervy teenager with a peephole to a girls changing room. It’s all to do with the fact you can get stuff, eat stuff and do stuff. For the few days your there, spending a months local salary in week, you can feel normal again. I never thought I’d say I was happy that people were staring at me for being tall rather than white! You can watch fairly up to date films in a decent cinema. You can go swimming in a heated pool (providing its not closed for maintenance) and go to a proper gym. There’s bowling, massages, and supermarkets that actually have a huge range of stuff. Most importantly of all when you are in a town of varying limited food choices, you can eat. Pizza, curry, Mexican, fish and chips, chicken, steak, even a decent bakery that sells croissants and chocolate donuts. None of the above are as good as home, but after three months of the nearest farenji food being a below average burger, they taste like the tears of a virgin angel after Gordon Ramsey has sworn the shit out of them.

So whilst the trip to get there or back is more gruelling than doing an arctic marathon in the nude, a trip to Addis every 3 months or so is a must for any volunteer to take the edge off for a bit.

Oh, and one more thing. You can buy bacon in Addis. So it is now becoming something of a ritual to visit Bambi’s supermarket before I head back to town, buy a pack of frozen bacon, and eat the whole 6 quid pack that evening when I’m back in home. I didn’t think I’d miss pork products so much, but I’m starting to realise that the bacon may be the greatest taste of them all…

Whilst I’m sure all you kids back home are currently in the midst of the January blues, with your toys and new years resolutions already in tatters, I figured I’d run you through how a big handsome guy who was not in Blighty spent his Christmas and new year.

First point of note: Ethiopia runs on a different calendar to us. This meant that whilst it may well have been boxing day sales after a Christmas of poor TV and overindulgence, no one here could have given a flying Santa about December 25th. Makes you realise just how ridiculous the 80’s festive anthem “feed the world” was: what the self indulgent bell end Bono and his cock smoking cronies failed to mention was that the letting the Ethiopians know it was Christmas would have been met with “what are you on about farenj, Christmas is in a few weeks you plonker”. I suppose that wouldn’t have been quite so catchy. Anyway, rant over, the point is that whilst Ethiopians were going about their usual Tuesday business, I was sat by a pool in Adama, getting sunburnt, drinking beers, and dreaming about a turkey dinner with 50 roast potatoes.

New Years Eve had similar calendar related issues. After a meal and some beers at the nicest of our town’s hotels, the Assela farenji went to the local bar we like to frequent. On arrival at 10pm, it was closed. However a call from one of our local friends and the bars owner, Girmar, wiped the sleepy dust from his eyes, fired up the television and let us drink the new year in… although I’m not sure he knew why we cheered at midnight as his English is none-existant and Ethiopian New year is late September.

With the western festivities out the way, it was a short wait until the 7th of January rolled round, and we hit Ethiopian Christmas. Having been here a while, I was able to negotiate the invitations well, and spent Ethiopian Christmas day and the week that followed stuffing my face with only the best Ethiopian grub. Similar deal to England really, just a couple of weeks later and with a different range of foods to shoval into you face. Many thanks to all my Ethiopian friends and colleagues for the hospitality, I’ve put on a stone in a week, and had a good laugh at the same time. Happy days, and roll on Easter!

From the country who’s idea of health and safety stretches all the way to having a quick prey before climbing up 50 feet of wooden string bound scaffolding, let me provide you, lucky reader, with an insight as to what last minute Christmas gifts you should be buying for the children in your life. Just so you know, this is all based on stuff I’ve actually witnessed here in Ethiopia!

Let’s be honest – playing and education is only for people of the world with money in their pocket. Therefore what every 3 year old wants this Christmas is a bucket and some soap so they can do their own washing. Practice makes perfect. And don’t think they’ll be spending the afternoons practising their scrubbing skills, because with a knife and chopping board set they can also start to chip in with the dinner preparations. That’s right; being three without a knife in you hand will only lead to therapy and hard drugs when they grow up…

With the 3 year old in your family catered for, what do you get for the enthusiastic, construction minded 4-5 year old? Fear not parents, the dilemma is over. The short-handled pickaxe is the only choice for the budding builder in your family. The beauty of it is that as you beaver away laying a new pipe into your home, your little assistant can be fully involved. Plus, when all those attempts to put the sharp end through your teeny tiny leg have failed, you can suck on the rusty goodness of the less sharp end, providing both a pacifier and a healthy resistance to tetanus…

As you might imagine, the next logical step from those construction crazed days of youth is to turn to agriculture. Therefore, the only choice for those pre secondary children is the mini sithe. Obviously the full version is only for the grim reaper, but that doesn’t mean the miniature version of this farming classic cannot be enjoyed by those under 10. Don’t forget that nothing, with the possible exception of unstable world war one hand grenades, spices up a game of catch than replacing a ball with this crescent shaped death sword!

Our next item is fun for any age. In England the trend may well be bags for life and child safe carriers with a couple of holes punched in the bottom. But what the crazy UK safety mafia is not considering is what fun a good, hole-less, plastic bag can really add to any running race, particularly when placed on a child’s head. Risk of suffocation, risk of traffic, risk of stacking it on gravel laden mud roads – it’s a part of growing up that no child should do without.

Finally, for those of you who live near mountain ranges, I have the perfect gift for your children. Firstly, take the cart from any horse and cart combo. Remove the wheels and anything else that will hinder speed or the ability to brake. Once you’ve got your primitive sled ready, take it to the top of the mountain, and let the fun begin. Just make sure that the drop off the side of the mountain is steep, large, and guaranteed certain death to really ramp up the excitement as you and your buddy speed around the sharp corners on your break-less, rudderless wooden splinter-mobile of doom!

Nb. All the above items are available to purchase at www.icantbeleivetherearentmoreaccidents.com

You may have noticed that my blog updates have become bi-weekly instead of weekly. Apologies, I know how much you miss them when they don’t happen… but it is somewhat linked to the all important work update – good to do these every so often, it is the reason I’m here after all, and recently events have taken quite a turn…

So, a few weeks ago I had to send in my 3 monthly report to VSO. It was blunt – I stated how little was happening, that I felt I wasn’t getting a lot of support, and that there was no money do anything next year – so they probably wouldn’t need me as troubleshooting the existing setup should be easy if I could get my counterparts together for a few hours each week. With this in mind I told them that come the end of my first year, it might be an idea for me to move to another placement, or return home.

The report went off on a Friday. On Monday the college dean asked to see me. He said he’d really push to get things moving this year. He also said if I stayed, even if the ministry wouldn’t give the college any cash for setting up the local area network, he’d find the money for the basics, probably some in Feb and some in June. Based on my proposal, where I did things as cheap as possible and in a building by building approach, we could get the servers for a lan and a couple of switches/cabling etc. for a couple of blocks, then add more blocks as the funds became available. He said he would still contact the ministry of education about putting in the full LAN though. I’d like it on record the college dean here is a really good bloke. Works hard, always helps me out when he can, and genuinely does what he can for the good of the college.

Following this, stuff actually happened. I’ve had a few website content meetings, so it’s still slow but stuff is definitely happening there. And I got the extra wireless boxes, so there is now wireless internet campus wide. Plus I got some bits for our 90 year old server, so that’s working again, plus I installed a new firewall on it so it’s now super robust – I can’t do anything about the broadband line or the power cuts, but otherwise the college is in a good place internet wise. Also, I should be doing some workshops with the staff soon. Best of all, I’ve finally got my counterparts on board. They are pretty much fixing all the user issues now (with my help if they get stuck) and we have a training session once a week, where we can run through some of the IT support basics (turn it off and back on again. Control, alt, delete. User error, you know the drill).

Things were looking up (and not just the locals, most of them have to look up to me what with me be a giant). Then last week I had a phone call from the dean, who was at the ministry of education for a meeting.
“Hello Dan, the ministry have accepted your proposal to do everything. the only conditions are we get some computers in the library, and we spend the money by the end of May”

So, since then I’ve been ran off my feet, seeing what IT kit is available in this country, how much it is, and just how much of the plan we could do with 1.2 million birr. Not often in my life I can say I’m spending a million (although in pounds it’s only (ha only) 42000). If all goes to plan that means we can get the whole college set up with a local area network (switches, cable, servers, the full monty) plus some laptops, plus new computers in the IT Lab, plus some computers in the Library. One hell of a project for me to undertake, but it should mean if everything goes through the college is well set up for future expansion, facilities are greatly improved, and most importantly the improved communications and collaboration means the quality of teaching goes up. Currently we’re in a phase where the college is announcing the spend in the national paper, so we have to wait a month to see if there’s any objections.

Most importantly, the last few weeks has restored my faith in what I, and VSO, are doing. The government has some money, but depending on the area the colleges don’t have the expertise to use it, and the government wants it used properly – it’s a developing nation after all, and needs to know what it spends is going to be beneficial. So without me and VSO this wouldn’t be happening. Looks like I really am making a difference after all.

As you may or may not know, on Sunday 25th November I took part in the great Ethiopian run, a 10km run around Addis Ababa.

Lets get my sporting excuses out the way first. I had been training for a few months before. Getting up at the crack of dawn, running up the ridiculous hill that Assela sits on, trying on an a bi-daily basis not to die from the car smoke, high altitude, and ridiculous gradient. By running early I even managed to avoid a lot of the farengi hassle… However, there is no training for the ridiculous heat encountered running around addis at 9.30 in the morning. That coupled with the lack of water stops on the run meant that by 5km it wasn’t the altitude or lack of legs that meant I walked the second half of it, it was heat exhaustion. Despite this, I battled on and completed the course in a hugely disrespectful 1 hour 30. I was disappointed with my performance for sure, but that was a side not to the run…

I’ve never done any kind of run before – 10km’s take place all over Europe, but I’ve never been to one… so this is only a guess, but I’d be willing to put money on the fact theres no 10km in the world like this one. As with a lot of things here, it was the atmosphere, therefore the people, that made this a great day. The sea of green shirts was impressive, at one point you are in the middle of a flyover, and forward all you can see are the green and red t-shirts that served as race registration. Oh, and backward all you can see are the green and red shirted participants too. 35,000 “official” runners is a lot of people. The music points were also brilliant, every 2km you come by two roughly connected speakers with a DJ blasting out the phat Ethiopian beats. To be honest this wasn’t the spectacle, it was the green shirted runners who were stopping off for a dance. Also good value were the drinkers. Every “bar” on route seemed to be packed out once again with the green shirted “runners”… you’ll be pleased to hear they did get heckled by passers by.

So despite the odd bad point (one water stop at 8km was not enough in 32 degree heat, and the pick pocketing was rampant despite a lot of rozzers being about) it was a great morning, more like a carnival than an athletic event. I currently suffering with camera issues, but if I can I’ll source some photos for you… and don’t forget I was running for VSO, so if you wanna drop a quid to a good cause, you can do so at http://original.justgiving.com/hilldan

Oh, and before I go, you need to know I’ll be doing another 10km at some point, and I will run the lot… not sure which of my parents I need to blame for my stubbornness, but I must have got it from one of them!

A frequent subject of discussion amongst us farenji is to do with one of the less favourable aspects of Ethiopian culture – that of the less than discreet habit of pissing in the street. I’m sure it’s not all, but the times it happens is a lot higher than it should, and it’s not so much the pissing that’s a problem, it’s the fact that its done so blatantly – no quiet hidden corners found here! Therefore, the topic of discussion has been how to stop the locals exposing themselves and relieving themselves in public. The 5 birr police fine doesn’t work (and is rarely enforced) so I’ve come up with a string of alternative methods to try and curb the trend. Any other suggestions feel free to let me know!

• Go up to the culprit mid piss and stare them straight in the eye
• Go up to them and say “Ah, poor you”
• Go up to them and say “It’s what you do with it that counts”
• Go up to them and say “Surprised you could find it”
• Go up to them and say “So the stereotypes about black men aren’t true”
• Go up to them and say “I’m sure your mother loves you”
• Go up to them and say “You’re dribbling on your shoe”
• Go up to them and say “You should see a doctor about that”
• Go up to them and say “Is it supposed to look like that”
• Go up to them and say “Is it supposed to be that small”
• Mid piss shove in the back
• Point and laugh
• Gather a small group and start the chant “what the f**king hell is that…”
• Mid piss cattle prod in the back
• Give them a mid piss shake
• Stand uncomfortably close to them and start pissing yourself
• Stand just behind them and start pissing on their trousers
• Give it a whack with some stinging nettles

Big D: dealing with the delicate issues since 1981!

So, following on from last week (ok, I got lazy, so it’s been two weeks), we have two more modes of transport to cover to complete the festival of magic that is transportation in Ethiopia.

The Bus and the Minibus. Yup, I’m doing the last two together as they are the same, but different. Let’s start with the key differences:

Bus: slow and scary, as they take 6 weeks to overtake a lorry, even though there’s barely room.
Minibus: faster and scarier, as they will rag it and overtake anything, even when there’s no room, and there’s another bus coming the other way doing exactly the same thing.

Bus: no legroom, no luggage space. Only leg room is back middle, which is not the seat to be in when the driver slams on the brakes to avoid hitting a donkey.
Minibus: less legroom, less luggage space. With the added bonus of less headroom. I have smacked my head on the roof on more than one pot-hole bumped occasion.

Bus: generally brightly coloured on the outside, and often the “cockpit” at the minimum is equally brightly coloured, with various shades of shagpile on the ceilings.
Minibus: usually boring on the outside, and a lot less aggressive décor on the inside, except for the standards (see similarities)

There are also many a similarity:

• Six foot seven Big Dan is not built for squeezing into the seats of a bus or a minibus.
• Sitting in the front seat is horrific. It’s best not to see what’s happening or what the driver is doing. Ever.
• Expect conversation. If the locals speak some English, they’ll try and use it. And if they don’t speak English, well, they’ll talk to you anyway.
• Both are hotter than a fat mans armpit in a sauna. No windows open (regular readers will remember why), so no fresh air, and unless its rainy season the sun will be more intense that a hungry fat kid outside a cake shop window.
• Expect many a stop as various traffic rozzers check out various things. Paperwork is the most common, but uniforms (yup, the driver and boy should both have their colour overalls on), general customs style checks, general vehicle checks (ironic if you saw the state of some of the buses) and even just a chin wag have all been witnessed
• Expect many a swerve/slow down/stop for livestock.
• Do not expect many a stop for people in the road.
• Expect as a minimum the dashboard to be draped in Muppet carcass.
• Expect a range of football stickers and/or religious propaganda to adorn the cockpit.

That pretty much rounds up the transport situation here in country. Next time your sitting in an air conditioned car with functioning everything and full UK safety standards, consider yourself lucky!

Following my recent holidays, it occurs to me that I haven’t yet informed you of the myriad of transport options available here in the now sunny Ethiopia. Fear not hapless reader, all that is about to change, over the course of another fun filled two week Big Dan special…

Gary. That’s right; the first mode of transport is called a gary. Actually, it’s probably spelt gari, and refers to a horse and cart. I haven’t had reason to use this yet, it’s mainly used by rural folk for produce transportation, although it also used by people to get to those hard to reach areas of town. Seen as the wheels on these rickety carts usually look drunk and about to fall off, I’ll continue to hope I don’t need to take a gary any time soon. Plus, I’m pretty sure six foot seven Big Dan would break the cart.

Bajaj. The bajaj is the main mode of transport around my town and many others. It’s basically a little three wheeled tuc tuc. Several points of note.

1. Six foot seven Big Dan is not built for squeezing into the back of a bajaj.
2. A driver will always put three people in the back of a bajaj. Sadly, even 3 babies would be squashed in the back of a bajaj, so me and two average sized people is less than comfortable.
3. The doors are added onto a new bajaj post sale… usually badly. To date I have made the door of a bajaj fall off twice…
4. You can fit a mattress on top of a bajaj. You can fit livestock, and 3 persons monthly shop inside a bajaj, as well as all the people, as well as a extra one in the front if it’s late and the driver doesn’t think they’ll get stopped by the filth.
5. Bajajes are blue and white. I think we can almost assume it to be fact that the Ethiopian minister for transport is a Pompey fan.
6. Six foot seven Big Dan is not built for squeezing in the back of a bajaj.

Line taxi. These are used in Addis and the odd other large city. Basically a minibus which follows a set route and has a hop on hop off sort of approach. Again, several points of note.

1. Six foot seven Big Dan is not built for squeezing in the back (or front) of a line taxi. 
2. There are a 9 “proper” seats in a line taxi.
3. A line taxi is usually considered full when it has at least 15 people in it. 
4. Each line taxi has a driver and a “boy” who collects the money and rounds up passengers, usually by leaning out the window and shouting the destination in the quickest voice possible. Getting the right line taxi should therefore be considered a skill of high enough order I can put it on my CV.
5. For reasons I may have already discussed this year (and will again next week) the windows are rarely open in a line taxi. Always pleasant when it’s 30 degrees outside and you have 17+ people crammed in there.
6. Official line taxi’s are blue and white. I think we can almost assume it to be fact that the minister for transport is a Pompey fan.
7. Six foot seven Big Dan is not built for squeezing in the back (or front) of a line taxi.

Taxi. Again, taxi’s are usually only found in Addis and the other larger cities. Once again, there are several points of note.

1. Six foot seven Big Dan is not built for squeezing into either the front or the back of a taxi.
2. Nearly all taxi’s in Ethiopia are old Ladas. Those British readers will probably remember with fondness what delightfully awful shitboxes they were.
3. Having any of the following working or present in a taxi is to be considered a bonus: windows; window winders; wing mirrors; rear view mirror; door handles; any dial on the dash board; gear stick; gear box; any of the peddles; steering wheel; any of the lights; any of the switches which control lights;  ignition key and ignition.
4. The following will almost certainly work in a taxi: radio; horn.
5. Taxi’s don’t have meters, price is arranged prior to departure. This means that farenji tax is always present, and works (generally) as anything from 2-7 times the price a local person will pay, even after heavy haggling. If you tired and grumpy getting a taxi is not fun.
6. Official taxi’s are blue and white. I think we can almost assume it to be fact that the minister for transport is a Pompey fan.
7. Six foot seven Big Dan is not built for squeezing in either the front or back of a taxi.

That’s all for this week, more Ethiopian transportation delights next week!