I should state before I produce more blog entries that it is not my intention to be negative or to be judgemental about my experiences. These entries are merely my observations while on the journey. They are intended to be informative, with a touch of humour.
However, keep in mind that I have a Goal and Mission. As individuals regardless of who and where we are, we strive to maintain the wellbeing of our family and community within our social and cultural matrices. This is difficult to accomplish under conditions of disease and poverty. I am judgemental about our inept approach to reducing the impact of malaria. I would also like to see more funding for projects getting down to the grassroot's level.
This blog will deal with our return to and time in Addis prior to continuing on to Juba, Southern Sudan - starting with our farewells in Gambella on the morning of March 27.
Gira, our driver from the previous day, arrived around 9:00 a.m. to collect me and my luggage at the Park Hotel. We were about to depart; Gira had just put the pickup into reverse when an older Rover SUV stopped directly behind us, stalled and refused to start. Does this sound familiar? After some harsh words from Gira, three Orientals got out and had a discussion with their driver, another mechanic. Following several attempts at pushing the vehicle and popping the clutch, they were on their way and so were we.
We met up with Simon Hughes and Kevin at the Baro Hotel. They were packed and checked out. Simon Turial joined us for breakfast. I had concluded that we had enough film footage of larval habitats in and around Gambella, so Gira left us to fuel the vehicle and to confirm our departure time for Addis.
Simon Turial and I negotiated his pay from the time he met us in Addis on March 21. He explained that the house he was renting belonged to someone who now had need of it. I learned that he had purchased a small plot of land where he could build a new home and grow food for his family. I heard the details of the cost of a foundation, the poles and filler for the walls and the thatch for the roof. We agreed on a price that was equivalent to the cost of one good cattle beast in Ethiopia or dinner for four with wine at a medium priced restaurant in Canada.
Simon by the way was not exhibiting any cold symptoms while I was still dealing with a persistent cough. He did not share his local remedy with me and because I did not ask, I may have missed a golden opportunity for a deal with a North American pharmaceutical company and financial security for life.
The plane was on time and we left the hotel for the airport. I was pleasantly surprised when Simon told me that the new terminal building was now in use. I had been preparing myself for a tortuous wait in the old departure lounge – a room roughly 12 by 30 feet in a shack. There were no windows, a fan blew the hot air amongst the 40 would be passengers packed in like sardines, shoulder to shoulder and legs intertwined. During my last stay in the old departure lounge, my bladder got the better of me. It was a struggle to leave the room and the struggle continued as I passed back through two security check points. I arrived at another dilapidated building to which I had been directed. An old sign read, “ oilet.” I had no “oil to let” but I reasoned, “Close enough.”
After bidding our final farewells to Simon and Gira, we entered the new terminal and addressed our first security check. The contrast of the old facility to the new was indeed amazing … spacious , sparsely furnished, high ceilings and lots of widows from the floor to the ceiling. Yes that actually intensified the heat. In a far corner of the pre-boarding area one lone fan laboured without consequence. A 1950’s vintage refrigerator with a cache of Ethiopian produced Coca Cola and Sprite, was placed strategically in front of two rows of seats. Needless to say there was a steady flow of individuals to the refrigerator drawn like bees to a honey pot.
Eventually we proceeded through two more security points and waited in an equally spacious boarding area. I sat in front of the only other fan in the building. “You snooze, you lose!”
We arrived in Addis at 3:00 p.m. and our taxi driver as well as facilitator, Dejene Demeke, was waiting for us as previously arranged. We were driven to the brand new Renaissance Apartment Hotel. The hotel offered wireless internet, a swimming pool and free breakfast to boot. I bartered with Miss Hirut Ibrahim, the Front Office Manager and we agreed on $74 U.S per person for an apartment on the third floor with a common living room, a kitchenette and with three bedrooms each with a three piece bathroom with a fancy shower. She apologized that we would have to walk up three flights and informed me that the elevator to the upper floors would be installed as soon as the parts came from Europe.
Kevin and Simon headed up to the room helped by a porter with the luggage. Meanwhile I left with Dejene to see about changing my flight arrangements to go onto Nigeria after Southern Sudan. A rather insistent fellow, Uduma Okeh, had wanted to meet in Lagos to discuss malaria control and I was considering extending this tour a few days to see what he had in mind. Dejene drove us to a Lufthansa office; it was closed. I had lost track of the days and forgot it was Sunday.
Back at the hotel, Kevin and Simon had selected their bedrooms, leaving me with the largest perhaps in consideration of my age and size. Kevin informed me that the wireless internet was not working in the apartment.
I surveyed our new digs, overall the apartment looked great– nicely furnished with probably a 42 inch flat screened television in the living room. On closer inspection, the wood trim around the doors and base boards were either missing, or required refinishing. The kitchenette was modest but appeared to be adequate despite an inoperable hotplate. I moved into my boudoir, spacious - with a king bed, a vanity with a cracked mirror and a chest of drawers with a flat screened T.V. on top.
We had been travelling for over a week and I suggested that the lads consider “washing” their socks and underwear. There were wracks provided for drying clothes and with any luck they would be dry enough by morning when we would leave for our flight to Southern Sudan. The flight was scheduled for 10:45 a.m. which meant leaving the hotel around 8:15.
I headed down to the lobby with my computer to see if I could connect with the wireless internet and to inquire about getting our shirts laundered. The internet connection in the lobby was excellent and while catching up on my e-mails and sipping on an Ethiopian coffee, a fellow past by with soiled laundry. I asked him if it was possible to get some shirts cleaned before we left in the morning. He said yes and I inquired when they would be ready. “One hour and 45 minutes (7:45 a.m.), “he assured me and directed room service to pick up the clothes from our room. Everything was coming together!!
I rushed upstairs and we all scurried to get our shirts ready for room service which arrived shortly after me.
It had been a long day and we all were appreciative of the thought of a shower. I took my socks and underwear in with me. Now this shower was a magnificent piece of technology. It had a control panel for various lighting modes and music, multiple faucets and shower heads – a large one overhead and a line of them on the wall, and seat as well. The only thing I could get to work was the overhead shower head. At least the water was hot and I proceeded to wash myself and my clothes, stomping on them on the floor of the shower.
I dressed with my one remaining clean set of clothes, hung the wet clothes to dry and met with Kevin and Simon down in the restaurant. We ate Ethiopian with several St. George’s beer and discussed our impressions of the hotel.
There were a few interesting observations. Kevin had a wall in his bedroom that abutted against an outside wall; well not really a wall but a window which it split in two. To have the window open, Kevin would call through the wall to Simon in his bedroom to open it. Either the interior wall was an afterthought or it was an architectural feauxpas. Kevin and Simon both had problems with hot water in their showers (there wasn’t any) and one of their toilets didn’t flush but it did have a hose and nozzle. Perhaps it was an Ethiopian version of a bidet. The door to the apartment was not attached to the frame at the upper hinge and couldn’t be closed. It remained open and we locked our bedroom doors when we retired.
I suspect that the construction team that built the Renaissance was not trained in reading architectural drawings or plumbing. It was like being on a stage with a hotel setting. For the most part, it looked relatively good, high end - but a lot of things didn’t quite work. I’m not sure I would trust the elevator, if and when it was installed.
Dejene showed up unannounced while we were eating but declined to join us. I asked him why he wasn’t home on this Sunday evening with his family. “Dr. Barry, I have some very important clients and I must to be available to them at all times!” Hmmm?
Kevin had bought a cell phone earlier in the week because it was less expensive to use for local calls than our satellite phone which we used to call home. He mentioned that we were almost out of minutes. Without hesitation, Dejene left and was back with a card for 100 minutes in less time that it took to drink another beer. We paid and thanked him and he left assuring us he would be back at 8:00 a.m.
Kevin and Simon went back to the apartment to relax. I decided to survey the gardens and the pool in the twilight and to call my wife on the satellite phone. The only thing in the pool was stagnant rain water. A guard with an AK47 was sitting in the shadows. I acknowledged him with a nod, turned my back and dialled. Complete darkness had settled in and the only light in my immediate vicinity was from the face of the sat phone.
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