My New Abode

Sunshine Residence - an ugly Chinese block of flats
  

I´m somewhat peeved. Accommodation is a part of  my non-lucrative two year contract.  I was given an option of an apartment or villa and asked how close did i want to live near the school? I request a villa within walking distance. No problem with the latter, i´m just a 20 minutes walk away or a 10 minute drive (after i have negotiated getting out of the car-park). However it is my predecessor´s apartment. This reduce security issues but i had visions of sitting out on my verandah playing my guitar and having plenty of space for some of my more intrepid friends who have assured me they want to visit.

The location is good; in a recently developed area called Gerji, close to the famous but unplinthed Bob Marley roundabout on the eastern side of the city just 3kms from the airport. I am told that there are many expats in the area and so most locals don´t raise an eyebrow when they come across a farangi - white foreigner. There a whole bunch of mini-marts, coffee shops, fast food restaurants, bars and even a couple of massage parlours along my road. It´s true, i can walk round my ´hood with limited stares and harassment, but after a couple of days i see no evidence whatsoever that there are other farangis about.

The third floor apartment is in a guarded compound in a private block – in other words, Chinese built and an ugly eyesore indeedy. Nonetheless, i´m told it is far superior to the government compounds that are cracked, inappropriately wired and inadequately serviced with water. However, this is Addis, and water and electricity loss is a daily occurrence. No different really from my year and a half in the foothills of the Himalaya.

dining room

It is big (especially after my last abode on Hong Kong Island) and as Frank observes, i will kinda be rattling around. The front room contains the kitchen, dining room with an adjoining lounge.  There is purported to be three bedrooms, but one is a dumping ground and another is a completely bare room without a bed - not very convenient for impending guests. It also boasts limited satellite TV, a bath tub (in the ensuite) and a washing machine (currently uninstalled and sitting in the ensuite too). The choice of curtains can only be described as vomit inducing. There are also two small balconies (one off the Master bedroom and the other outside the dining room/lounge. I feel a garden coming on.

view from my balcony

However there is only plastic cutlery, four coffee mugs and some spices in the kitchen, no bed-linen and the floors are filthy. I call up Mr A. (Head of Human Resources) at the school and request a cleaner immediately, who then spends four hours washing and sweeping the floors before i am prepared to unpack. 

I´ll demand a bed for the guest room and the washing machine installed, and see how i get on in my first three months - a probation period for both myself and the school. If i don´t like it, i´ll demand a villa.

Death of a Prime Minister

With classic timing, i arrive in Addis during the public mourning of the Prime Minister Meles Zanawir. His death was distinctly suspicious and it is well thought that he died several day before a public announcement was made.

Local T.V. has dedicated full day coverage of mourners paying their respects and national radio stations are not broadcasting any other news. Ms J´s eldest works in local radio and he has been ordered to play sombre music with no dialogue whatsoever.

Although not universally loved, Ethiopians are always respectful on the death of a leader. There is a day of mourning on Sunday at Meskel Square, but with the first day back for teachers on Monday, i fear i will miss what will be a very interesting spectacle indeed.

Addis Airport

You can tell a lot from the entry into a country. In Hong Kong and Singapore, it’s highly organized and one clears the border post within 15 minutes. In Burma, i was asked to bribe officials, by the said officials to avoid fixed charges. 

First impressions count!

Addis airport, like Delhi, you can sweat it out for hours to get your passport stamped. Even though i have a valid work visa on a full page of my passport, it still takes almost two hours to get to the immigration booth. I have had no sleep, and i´m very tired and irritable. Some locals are continually twittering behind me loudly and it just adds to my indignation at being held up. No coffee or cigarettes haven´t helped my steaming mood.   

Most flights arrive in between 6 – 7am and queues stretch round various barriers around the vast arrival hall. Many of the border booths are unstaffed. After observation, probably your best bet is to line up by one of the two lines dedicated to “Crew”.

Amazingly all my bags are still rotating on the conveyor belt and my guitar is found sitting all by itself near a pillar. Better still Frank and Abraham are there to greet me, help me with my luggage and drive me to my new abode.

Night Flight to Addis

There is a daily night flight from London Heathrow to Addis Ababa on Ethiopian Airlines and my school purchases a return ticket for a very reasonable 385GBP. On the e-ticket it tells me i can take two bags and i am prepared to bring along my Ovation acoustic in its case as a luxury third bag. No airline seems to allow guitars as hand-luggage anymore.

Pa drops me off early and I make way to the check-in counter. Being three hours early the queue is empty, but a young Ethiopian Airlines employee jumps out at me and demands to weigh my carry-on bag. It contains 2 laptops, The Beast (my Nikon D200), my Kindle, two soccer mags and assorted chocolate bars Ma has insisted i take with me. Not surprisingly it weighs in at some 11.7kgs and i´m informed i´m only allowed to bring on 7kgs. There is a 10GBP charge for each extra kilo he informs me and suggests moving in some of its contents. An ominous start. 

Things get worse at the check-in counter. My smaller bag containing predominantly my educational work files is fine, but my large bag is weighing in at 38kgs and it can´t travel on board. Luckily I have packed a rucksack and have to repack all over again. I´m then charged some three hundred pounds for the privilege. Ouch! I fear i have overspent on my relocation allowance. Fortunately my overweight hand-luggage is waived.

My request for an exit row has been unceremoniously ignored but even my long long legs have enough room. The plane is packed and i´m sitting next to an elderly Ethiopian woman. The plane leaves 40 minutes late due to late-arriving Ethiopian passengers who are in no hurry to take their seats. The flight is a mere seven and a quarter hours.

Finally, the drinks trolley is wheeled out, only to be swiftly withdrawn for turbulence over the Alps. Seatbelt signs remain in place for the following two and a half hours despite any sensation of turbulence for the previous hour. My neighbour wants the toilet but she is refused to get up from her chair. It´s taken four hours but we finally get a meager drink and a tinsy bag of snacks and my neighbour finally gets to relieve her bladder/bowels. 

A reasonable dinner shows up an hour later which i eat, despite warnings to the contrary and breakfast is a slice of fruit-cake which i devour. Lights remain on for the whole flight and i acquire less than 30 minutes sleep for the entire duration.

Assumicide

I’ve been hanging around UK for far too long. I’m waiting to hear anyone from the school too verify my work permit, start date and flight details. I try to be patient. I don’t want to be seen as impatient, nervous and/or anxious. 

It transpires that they are waiting for me to action the above. Eventually my line leader finally makes contact with me, and Operation Mountain Man is given top priority. Within 48 hours i have a letter to take up to the Ethiopian Embassy in London. I fear the worse, having spent a most terrible Embassy experience in Addis when i needed to extend my tourist visa in 2011. No-one spoke English with over half a dozen counters to negotiate all clearly labeled in Amharic.

Fortunately, thinks are more sorted in London and within less than an hour I have filled in the appropriate form, taken my photo on the on-site photo booth and handed over the obligatory £22. I am told it will be ready the next day. And it was!