My dad often says, that Ethiopian food is the only food that consistently makes him ill. He HATES it, and if you know my dad, you know that hating any kind of food is a rare occurrence.
I've never felt the same way, although I've met many who have. I think what it really boils down to is: injera is kind of weird. I'll cop to that. It's served cold, it's kind of got a spongy texture, it's slightly sour, when it gets wet it falls apart which is obnoxious because you have to use it as your fork, spoon and knife... I get it.
But, despite it's faults, I've enjoyed our traditional feasting here in Ethiopia.
We happened to time our trip to coincide with Ethiopian Lent. Ethiopians take their Christianity very seriously - compared to a lot of Ethiopian Christians, Americans are just phoning it in. For Lent pretty much no one eats meat (fish doesn't count as meat though... go figure... it's the Faith Gaskins method of vegetarianism.. ZING). There will be meat listed on menus, but if you order it, you'll be told it's not available.
So that pretty much left us with the Ethiopian Fasting Plate. Sounds pretty awful, but in reality it's not at all awful. It's basically a big round of injera topped with all these little vegetarian salads. The mainstays are a kind of spiced, curried lentil, a cooked cabbage salad, shiro (which is the only food I will admit is really trifling. disgusto. it's basically chick pea sauce, but there's nothing in the sauce, and the sauce itself kind of tastes like glue or paste or something), curried potatoes and carrots and then whatever else is available. Sometimes a sort of coleslaw like salad, sometimes a green salad, sometimes something unidentifiable but delicious.
Also this huge meal costs the equivilant of about $1.50 USD. It's like the ultimate dollar menu! Really cheap, really tasty, really filling.
They also serve injera for breakfast here, called firfir. It's literally yesterdays torn up injera stir fried with some awazi sauce (super spicy) or some other sauce... sometimes the dreaded shiro. It's pretty good, although I'll admit I go for eggs when available.
While the Italian colonizers were only here for like, five years, it was enough time for the Ethiopians to take the best of what they had to offer: pizza, pastries and aqua con gas. We've only been in Kenya for 1 day and I already miss Ambo! They have it everywhere, it's just seltzer water, but it's a nice constant in a country who's landscape and people change so dramatically from region to region.
The pizza in Ethiopia is GREAT, and every other storefront is a pastry shop. Granted, you can point at any slice of cake, no matter what it's shaped like or what color it is, it will turn out to be lemon cake - but that's beside the point.. it's GOOD! And it's everywhere. Donuts too! (Which reminds me of a very off color joke told to me years ago: What's the easiest way to exterminate the entire population of Ethiopia? Throw a donut off a cliff. I HOPE YOU'RE NOT LAUGHING).
Also, to make my mom proud, we found the only Thai restaurant in Addis, and ate there our last day. Guess what? It was really good. Everything tasted authentic and we were joined in the dining room by two tables of Thai people, so you know it must have been the real deal. It was even better than the Thai food we had in Cairo. And significantly more spicy than Thai food served stateside.
So all the jokes about food and lack of food in Ethiopia are totally off the mark, the food here is great, I didn't get sick once, and not EVERYTHING is hellishly spicy. I have a feeling I might even miss the Ethiopian fasting plate here in Kenya... We'll see! Tomorrow we're headed for the coast!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
In which I almost redeem my repatriation of remains clause
So far here are the words I know in Amharic:
Ah mah seken aloo = thank you!
Bekka = enough
Selam = hello
Cuss ba Cuss = slowly, slowly (you have to really accentuate the C sound to get it right)
This last phrase I used copiously on our 3 day hike up into the Simien Mountains in north west Ethiopia. We hiked 22 miles up to almost 4,000 meters above sea level. My lungs felt like they were going to explode and ooze out of my body, leaving me a sad, dirty, windblown corpse. Luckily, we were accompanied by a guide (who spoke english) and a scout (who did not). The scout, with his intimidating looking gun (what was he protecting us from? babboons? kids who coveted our water bottles?). He became my pesonal bodyguard and best friend of the trip. I vacillated between dramatic huffing abd pugging, to accentuate my struggle and apologetic looks that he had to wait for me. We bonded over Beyonce on my iPod as I tried to catch my breath.
Despite my proximity to unglamorous death, it was really a wonderful time (sorry no pictures! I'm still in Ethiopia! land of the slowest internet connection ever!) And I felt a really great sense of accomplishment upon finishing our third day, alive.
I have a lot to say about Ethiopia. None of it terribly cohesive. So here's a list:
* They really love empty water bottles here. But it feels weird giving someone your trash, even though you know that they want it. It's hard to get used to, and feels vaguely insulting. But they ask for them constantly.
* The food is super good. I'll be sad to leave. I haven't gotten sick once (knock on wood) and have even started branching out to salads and raw food!
* There is a really awsome blanket culture here. Especially up in the mountains. People walk around wrapped in blankets all day long. I wish it was culturally appropriate in the states. How awesome would THAT be? (answer: totally awsome)
* Ethiopia is not for the faint of heart. As in the physically faint of heart. There is a LOT of uphill walking to be done, even just to get around in a very basic way. Also the sights are usually strategically located up a massive mountain that takes an hour or so to walk up (especially if your speed is cuss ba cuss like me)
* Little kids love love love practicing their English here. They usually just know "hi" or "good morning" but today Lisa and I hiked up to see a monastary (up a mountain, I wasn't kidding about that) and when school got out at least 35 kids asked me what time it was. Because they had just learned it in class.
* Kids also know how to ask you for stuff. Water bottles are the most popular request, but sometimes they just want some water (which is easily shared). In the Simiens the kids would come up behind you and whisper "water, waaater, waaaater" or something ot that effect and it was really creepy. Now I like to creep up behind Lisa and say "satan, saaaatan, saaaaaaaaaatan". It hink things like this happen after 5 weeks of uninterrupted togetherness.
So those are my thoughts currently. Sorry they're not more cohesive. I wish I could post pictures because I have a lot of really amazing ones... but I can't! It's Ethiopia for Christ's sake! Which brings me to my next point. We're in Lalibela now, home of the rock hewn churches that King Lalibela made in the 13th century to be a "second Jeruselum" which is kind of weird, made weider as you tour the churches and the guide is like "This is where Christ was crucified, this is where he was born" etc etc. And it's like... uhm.. but he WASN'T actually born here! It's like an ancient Disney World for Jesus lovers, I guess. Tomorrow is Ethiopian Good Friday, so that should be even more interesting. Or disturbing. Depending how you look at it!
I leave here Saturday and then have about 3 more days in Addis and then it's off to Kenya!
xoxo erin.
Friday, April 10, 2009
The Joys of Bathtime in Ethiopia
So. Internet is so slow in Ethiopia, I have sent this blog post to the always lovely Naomi to post for me. Pictures would be nice, but that's LAUGHABLE...
Unlike picking your nose or playing solitaire, a cold water bucket shower is something that I think would be much more fun with a partner. With someone you lust after, it maybe could be a really sexy thing. When done alone in the darkness of your blacked out hotel room on the shores of Lake Tana, it's just sort of cold and messy. I contemplated more than once why I insisted on growing my hair so long, why the bucket is so freaking small, how many trips it will take from the drain to the faucet to sufficiently clean my body, etc etc.
However, it did get me clean. And I WAS on the shores of Lake Tana PLUS I totally saw a wild hippo that afternoon!
More to come... very slowly...
xoxo Erin
Unlike picking your nose or playing solitaire, a cold water bucket shower is something that I think would be much more fun with a partner. With someone you lust after, it maybe could be a really sexy thing. When done alone in the darkness of your blacked out hotel room on the shores of Lake Tana, it's just sort of cold and messy. I contemplated more than once why I insisted on growing my hair so long, why the bucket is so freaking small, how many trips it will take from the drain to the faucet to sufficiently clean my body, etc etc.
However, it did get me clean. And I WAS on the shores of Lake Tana PLUS I totally saw a wild hippo that afternoon!
More to come... very slowly...
xoxo Erin
Friday, April 3, 2009
egyptian recycling
So. Our Ten Thousand Villages - EGYPT stop was to visit a really nice woman named Linda from the MCC (Mennonite Central Committee... before we continue, please don't hold it against me if I get some details like names and things wrong... I'm only human and I didn't write anything down, and Lisa's not sitting beside me to confirm if I'm correct... that said...) who took us into a community of garbage collectors in the outskirts of Cairo.
In Cairo a certain percentage of waste is collected by independent garbage collectors, for something like 5 Egyptian pounds a month. The guy comes every week and takes the haul back to his house (in this community, in other communities the garbage is taken waaay outside the city and sorted there) where he and his family sort through it salvage about 95% of it, while discarding the rest. The salvaged material is sorted into... plastic bottles... cans... fibers... organic matter ... cardboard... plastic... paper etc. He then sells those items to a specialized collector in that same community who recycles it for further use.
Ten Thousand Villages purchases really neat rugs and bags that are made in a compound in the community out of recycled cloth. It's cut into strips and woven to make really pretty bags (they'd make great beach bags). Additionally they make paper out of salvaged materials. You can buy their stuff at http://www.tenthousandvillages.com/ (and you SHOULD).
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I was actually expecting much worse living conditions than what we found in the community. It is definitely it's own little world, tucked away from the rest of Cairo society. Most of the people living there are Christians (which is, obviously, not the norm ANYWHERE else in Cairo), and the community itself is very insular. They have their own hospital, schools, church etc. And I guess it would be unwise to underemphasize the squalor that these people have to put up with (no pictures though, Linda gave us a tour but asked that we not take pictures as it makes the people living there rightfully angry at being photographed dirty and living such a dirty lifestyle).
There was trash EVERYWHERE. People generally would sort trash in the first story of their house, and live above it on the next level. They generally also keep cows, pigs etc on the first floor to eat the organic matter they can find. Swarms, and swarms of flies everywhere. Lots of kids covered in blackish dust and muck. The stench was pretty much what you'd expect. Linda told us that in another community like the one we saw, they discovered that a group of kids were getting these weird chronic illnesses in large numbers... the found out that the community had been making toys out of recycled hospital waste... The whole thing is a public health crisis.
That said, I was really impressed at the level of organization in the community itself. The garbage collectors, while social outcasts, actually make a more steady, reliable living than a lot of the lower class in Cairo. They are looked down upon (they're considered a step above beggars), but they are actually fairly economically stable. From what we saw, everyone was pretty well fed, safe and relatively happy. It was much better than what I was expecting.
Also... think about recycling 95% of what we throw away! It's inconcievable. It really makes you think twice about what you put in the trash here...
That's it from Egypt.. we're headed to Ethiopia tomorrow to stay at the famed $4 a night Wutma Hotel! 24 hour hot water! I have a feeling posting there will be a bit more difficult (pictures may be impossible from here on out), but we'll see!
Hope all is well back home!
In Cairo a certain percentage of waste is collected by independent garbage collectors, for something like 5 Egyptian pounds a month. The guy comes every week and takes the haul back to his house (in this community, in other communities the garbage is taken waaay outside the city and sorted there) where he and his family sort through it salvage about 95% of it, while discarding the rest. The salvaged material is sorted into... plastic bottles... cans... fibers... organic matter ... cardboard... plastic... paper etc. He then sells those items to a specialized collector in that same community who recycles it for further use.
Ten Thousand Villages purchases really neat rugs and bags that are made in a compound in the community out of recycled cloth. It's cut into strips and woven to make really pretty bags (they'd make great beach bags). Additionally they make paper out of salvaged materials. You can buy their stuff at http://www.tenthousandvillages.com/ (and you SHOULD).
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I was actually expecting much worse living conditions than what we found in the community. It is definitely it's own little world, tucked away from the rest of Cairo society. Most of the people living there are Christians (which is, obviously, not the norm ANYWHERE else in Cairo), and the community itself is very insular. They have their own hospital, schools, church etc. And I guess it would be unwise to underemphasize the squalor that these people have to put up with (no pictures though, Linda gave us a tour but asked that we not take pictures as it makes the people living there rightfully angry at being photographed dirty and living such a dirty lifestyle).
There was trash EVERYWHERE. People generally would sort trash in the first story of their house, and live above it on the next level. They generally also keep cows, pigs etc on the first floor to eat the organic matter they can find. Swarms, and swarms of flies everywhere. Lots of kids covered in blackish dust and muck. The stench was pretty much what you'd expect. Linda told us that in another community like the one we saw, they discovered that a group of kids were getting these weird chronic illnesses in large numbers... the found out that the community had been making toys out of recycled hospital waste... The whole thing is a public health crisis.
That said, I was really impressed at the level of organization in the community itself. The garbage collectors, while social outcasts, actually make a more steady, reliable living than a lot of the lower class in Cairo. They are looked down upon (they're considered a step above beggars), but they are actually fairly economically stable. From what we saw, everyone was pretty well fed, safe and relatively happy. It was much better than what I was expecting.
Also... think about recycling 95% of what we throw away! It's inconcievable. It really makes you think twice about what you put in the trash here...
That's it from Egypt.. we're headed to Ethiopia tomorrow to stay at the famed $4 a night Wutma Hotel! 24 hour hot water! I have a feeling posting there will be a bit more difficult (pictures may be impossible from here on out), but we'll see!
Hope all is well back home!
Here's an aerial of the community we saw. If you zoom in (however you do that) you can get a bit of a sense of the neighborhood. Pigs in the back yard, trash everywhere, goats on the roof... etc. Sorry it's the only one! Go buy some recycled fabric bags!
Israel & Egypt in Pictures
Oma and her friend at Kfar Blum Kibbutz, Israel
Ladies at Sindyanna making an order of Ten Thousand Villages olive oil soap... get yours at tenthousandvillages.com!
The Yokel family survives the trek up Mosada.
More pictures here because these computers are too slow to upload!
http://picasaweb.google.com/lisa.stratton/LisaSIsraelEgyptPicturesBaksheesh & Bureaucracy
Erin and I have now been in Egypt for about two weeks and are leaving tomorrow. We are traveling in a group of eight here – my dad and his wife Joanne, Erin and her parents Kathy and Uri, and Joanne’s friends Bob and Jim.
Arriving in Egypt from Israel was a surreal experience. The juxtaposition of the two societies is stark – Israel is a culture that thrives on order, while Egypt is a culture that thrives on informal chaos and a fairly laid back (some would call it inefficient) approach to life. The extreme lack of order and organization in Egyptian society, and particularly in Cairo, is especially stressful for us Westerners who are overwhelmed by the constant smog, noise, traffic, crowds and ever-present vendors trying to hawk their wares at every corner.
Our first breakfast in Egypt was at a small café in Zamalak, the middle-class neighborhood where our hotel is located (and where I used to live when I studied abroad here). Kathy, Uri, Dad, Joanne, Erin and I each ordered a coffee drink and a croissant. Our waiter took dutiful notes – two small cappuccinos with whip, two large cappuccinos without whip, one café Americano with cream and one small latte. Thirty minutes later, after we witnessed 6 bumbling waiters hemming and hawing over the espresso machine we were presented with 6 absolutely identical coffee drinks. The Egyptian word, “Ma’alesh,” which loosely translates to “no worries” came to mind.
It’s amazing to think that in America a Starbucks barista probably could have single-handedly produced 6 times that many coffee drinks with an equal number of custom variations within the same time frame. But then again, in all of that efficiency that we are so accustomed to, we often miss out on the opportunity to really live in the moment and stop to enjoy leisurely meals with good friends, family and good conversation.
My flight from Cairo to Aswan was another priceless Egyptian experience. The rest of the group was traveling on a separate flight a day after me, so I arrived at the Cairo airport by myself at around 8 p.m. for a 10:20 p.m. flight and planned to get a hotel room for myself in Aswan to meet the group the following day for our 4 night cruise down the Nile from Aswan to Luxor.
After standing in line for about 30 minutes to get to the check-in counter, I finally made it to the counter only to be told that my flight was “suspended” due to sand storms in Aswan. When I asked what “suspended” meant, (was my flight cancelled? Delayed… if so, till when?) the response from the EgyptAir representative was “no comment.” At that point I knew it was going to be a long night. So, I went with the throngs of other people to stake out a spot on the hard metal benches and wait…and wait…. My flight’s departure time came and went without so much as an announcement or notice on any of the screens. Eventually, at about 2 a.m. I decided I was probably in for the long haul and decided to try to sleep. Of course, as soon as I fell asleep I was awoken by a mad rush over to the check-in gates.
I assumed that we had clearance to depart so I joined the throng of people jostling up to the counters to check our luggage. The one thing about Egyptian airports is that there are conspicuously few lines. It’s more like a giant scrum with people shoving and pushing – everyman (or woman) for himself (or herself). Since there are few official announcements most of the best information comes word-of-mouth from other travelers who have gleaned bits and pieces of information from varying sources with sometimes dubious credentials. Eventually I checked my bags and was herded into a lounge area for a gate. Of course with all of the rush I assumed that we would be departing any minute. Even though it was the middle of the night, I still figured this was good timing and that I’d have plenty of time to take a quick cat nap at a hotel before checking into our cruise boat.
4 hours later, at about 6:30 a.m. we still hadn’t made any progress and eventually there was another mass migration (everyone following one another like sheep with no real authoritative information to go by) – this time we were ushered out of the building into another terminal entirely and into a new check-in area.
By this point we had been in and out of security at least 6 times. Our new gate had a metal detector at its entrance, but we quickly discovered that the security guards at the entrance could care less whether it beeped or not – so eventually all of us tourists who are used to the usual airport strip down (shoes & belts off, laptops out, liquids contained and out, no jackets, etc…) took our cues from the locals and began to walk freely through the metal detectors bags and all – back and forth to the bathrooms and a meager selection at the café. (Sidenote: This complete lack of security has been a constant theme throughout the trip – there are guards, metal detectors and bags at almost every hotel and historic monument, but the guards always wave us through – a continuous BEEP BEEP BEEP as cameras, bags and people flow through unchecked. I can’t help but wonder if there aren’t better ways to spend the money that is clearly wasted on buying equipment and employing guards.)
At 10:30 a.m. the next morning, just as desperation was starting to set in amongst our weary group we finally got clearance to fly…14 hours after arriving at the airport. I made it to Aswan just in time to catch our cruise ship. Again, the whole experience seemed to be epitomized by the sentiment, “Ma’alesh” – I’m re-learning how to go with the flow and enjoy these opportunities to meet people and bond through a shared experience.
It takes an equal level of patience to deal with the constant barrage of vendors asking for “baksheesh” (tips) for a variety of services (ranging from pointing you in the wrong direction to providing two sheets of toilet paper at the bathrooms) and cheap knick-knacks for sale. Everyone we pass on the streets asks us the same questions – “Hello, Bonjour, Hola… Where are you from?” and when we respond “America” we are greeted with enthusiastic replies of “Ahh…. Barak Obama!” It’s a welcome change from the response of “Ahh… Bush:(” I was greeted with 4 years ago!
All of these frustrations aside, Egypt also has a lot of wonderful aspects as well. I love being able to use my muddled Arabic to talk to people and bargain in the markets. We’ve had some really lovely experiences talking to cab drivers, felucca captains and tour guides. We’ve eaten delicious meals at hip restaurants in Cairo, had a picnic lunch on the banks of the Nile, stumbled into delightful hole-in-the-wall fiteer and koshri shops in Cairo and Luxor. The ancient tombs and temples are breathtaking and we were even able to take a hike along the ridge over the awe-inspiring Queen Hatchepsut’s temple (she was a kick-ass feminist before her time!).
Next stop… Ethiopia!
Arriving in Egypt from Israel was a surreal experience. The juxtaposition of the two societies is stark – Israel is a culture that thrives on order, while Egypt is a culture that thrives on informal chaos and a fairly laid back (some would call it inefficient) approach to life. The extreme lack of order and organization in Egyptian society, and particularly in Cairo, is especially stressful for us Westerners who are overwhelmed by the constant smog, noise, traffic, crowds and ever-present vendors trying to hawk their wares at every corner.
Our first breakfast in Egypt was at a small café in Zamalak, the middle-class neighborhood where our hotel is located (and where I used to live when I studied abroad here). Kathy, Uri, Dad, Joanne, Erin and I each ordered a coffee drink and a croissant. Our waiter took dutiful notes – two small cappuccinos with whip, two large cappuccinos without whip, one café Americano with cream and one small latte. Thirty minutes later, after we witnessed 6 bumbling waiters hemming and hawing over the espresso machine we were presented with 6 absolutely identical coffee drinks. The Egyptian word, “Ma’alesh,” which loosely translates to “no worries” came to mind.
It’s amazing to think that in America a Starbucks barista probably could have single-handedly produced 6 times that many coffee drinks with an equal number of custom variations within the same time frame. But then again, in all of that efficiency that we are so accustomed to, we often miss out on the opportunity to really live in the moment and stop to enjoy leisurely meals with good friends, family and good conversation.
My flight from Cairo to Aswan was another priceless Egyptian experience. The rest of the group was traveling on a separate flight a day after me, so I arrived at the Cairo airport by myself at around 8 p.m. for a 10:20 p.m. flight and planned to get a hotel room for myself in Aswan to meet the group the following day for our 4 night cruise down the Nile from Aswan to Luxor.
After standing in line for about 30 minutes to get to the check-in counter, I finally made it to the counter only to be told that my flight was “suspended” due to sand storms in Aswan. When I asked what “suspended” meant, (was my flight cancelled? Delayed… if so, till when?) the response from the EgyptAir representative was “no comment.” At that point I knew it was going to be a long night. So, I went with the throngs of other people to stake out a spot on the hard metal benches and wait…and wait…. My flight’s departure time came and went without so much as an announcement or notice on any of the screens. Eventually, at about 2 a.m. I decided I was probably in for the long haul and decided to try to sleep. Of course, as soon as I fell asleep I was awoken by a mad rush over to the check-in gates.
I assumed that we had clearance to depart so I joined the throng of people jostling up to the counters to check our luggage. The one thing about Egyptian airports is that there are conspicuously few lines. It’s more like a giant scrum with people shoving and pushing – everyman (or woman) for himself (or herself). Since there are few official announcements most of the best information comes word-of-mouth from other travelers who have gleaned bits and pieces of information from varying sources with sometimes dubious credentials. Eventually I checked my bags and was herded into a lounge area for a gate. Of course with all of the rush I assumed that we would be departing any minute. Even though it was the middle of the night, I still figured this was good timing and that I’d have plenty of time to take a quick cat nap at a hotel before checking into our cruise boat.
4 hours later, at about 6:30 a.m. we still hadn’t made any progress and eventually there was another mass migration (everyone following one another like sheep with no real authoritative information to go by) – this time we were ushered out of the building into another terminal entirely and into a new check-in area.
By this point we had been in and out of security at least 6 times. Our new gate had a metal detector at its entrance, but we quickly discovered that the security guards at the entrance could care less whether it beeped or not – so eventually all of us tourists who are used to the usual airport strip down (shoes & belts off, laptops out, liquids contained and out, no jackets, etc…) took our cues from the locals and began to walk freely through the metal detectors bags and all – back and forth to the bathrooms and a meager selection at the café. (Sidenote: This complete lack of security has been a constant theme throughout the trip – there are guards, metal detectors and bags at almost every hotel and historic monument, but the guards always wave us through – a continuous BEEP BEEP BEEP as cameras, bags and people flow through unchecked. I can’t help but wonder if there aren’t better ways to spend the money that is clearly wasted on buying equipment and employing guards.)
At 10:30 a.m. the next morning, just as desperation was starting to set in amongst our weary group we finally got clearance to fly…14 hours after arriving at the airport. I made it to Aswan just in time to catch our cruise ship. Again, the whole experience seemed to be epitomized by the sentiment, “Ma’alesh” – I’m re-learning how to go with the flow and enjoy these opportunities to meet people and bond through a shared experience.
It takes an equal level of patience to deal with the constant barrage of vendors asking for “baksheesh” (tips) for a variety of services (ranging from pointing you in the wrong direction to providing two sheets of toilet paper at the bathrooms) and cheap knick-knacks for sale. Everyone we pass on the streets asks us the same questions – “Hello, Bonjour, Hola… Where are you from?” and when we respond “America” we are greeted with enthusiastic replies of “Ahh…. Barak Obama!” It’s a welcome change from the response of “Ahh… Bush:(” I was greeted with 4 years ago!
All of these frustrations aside, Egypt also has a lot of wonderful aspects as well. I love being able to use my muddled Arabic to talk to people and bargain in the markets. We’ve had some really lovely experiences talking to cab drivers, felucca captains and tour guides. We’ve eaten delicious meals at hip restaurants in Cairo, had a picnic lunch on the banks of the Nile, stumbled into delightful hole-in-the-wall fiteer and koshri shops in Cairo and Luxor. The ancient tombs and temples are breathtaking and we were even able to take a hike along the ridge over the awe-inspiring Queen Hatchepsut’s temple (she was a kick-ass feminist before her time!).
Next stop… Ethiopia!
(Hatchepsut's Temple)
Thursday, April 2, 2009
driving in egypt
I think it would be inaccurate to say that drivers in Egypt are maliciously aggressive. I am a very aggressive driver. I drive too fast, I tailgate, I cut people off, on occasion I roll the window down and do some shouting. I'm the first to admit that when behind the wheel, I'm a raging bitchmachine.
Drivers in Egypt exude a kind of benevolent aggression. There's yelling, and fist shaking on occassion, but no one really seems to take it to heart. No one gets real red in the face.
HOWEVER, their manner of driving is one of the most insanely terrifying spectacles I've yet to encounter in my lifetime. And it's not just one asshole who's driving like a maniac, it's a COUNTRY of assholes driving like maniacs. In fact, I think I should put "driving" in quotes to really convey how loosely this style of "driving" resembles what we call driving in the US.
There is no concept of lanes, anywhere. It's just a swarming mass of cars constantly weaseling in front of each other, sometimes 3 across sometimes 5 across... it's nuts. NUTS. In addition, when a small space opens up in front of the "car pack" (kind of like a wolf pack, only way more scary), EVERY car floors it to fill the hole, and stops just short of total destruction.
If you think that's bad, try CROSSING the street. There are really no crosswalks (ok maybe a few, but those are located in places where you don't even really need them), and there are defintely none bisecting the biggest, most crowded roads. It's like a live action game of Frogger with no extra lives. You basically just have to take a deep breath and step into swiftly moving traffic, hoping that you won't get flattened by the public buses that are packed like sardines, or the men (and babies, BABIES) on motorbikes with no helmets (ever, even on the BABIES).
It's therefore very suprising to me that I have not been involved in any accidents, I haven't even seen anyone else get into an accident. This leads me to believe that Islam must be the one true path to God, because someone must be protecting Egyptians from killing each other regularly with their automobiles.
Inshahallah.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
