By dreambig

Or so it is spoken of by many. So the road from Nairobi to Ethiopia, is supposed to be tough, really tough. I met a guy, the morning I was leaving, who came from North to South, and he simply said, “it’s a test.” So many travelers come in from the journey, beat and worn, with dust on their faces and embedded in their clothes. I will say that in all honesty, I was nervous before setting out. Perhaps that is why I took so long in Kenya. Regardless, however, I did set out last Sunday from Nairobi, entering upon what has been my greatest adventure thus far.

So this is how it works. From Nairobi to the border with Ethiopia (at a town called Moyale) is 901 km. The first 400 or so of that is all good road, tarmack with few potholes. There is constant transport on this stretch of road which starts in Nairobi, and ends in a small trucker town called Isiolo, which by all accounts was supposed to be a very scary place. It was, in some ways, but people like to exaggerate. But I’ll get to that. So I left Nairobi on Sunday, around 11a.m. to Isiolo. I arrived into Isiolo at about 3 or 4 in the afternoon. The ride was easy, and once I got there the people were a bit grabby, but it was nothing too bad. This leads to part two.

Part two goes like this. Once in Isiolo it is 508km to the border. The problem, however, is that there is no tarmac, really no road, for all of those 508km. There is nothing, leaving lorries (big cargo trucks) as the only real option for travel. Most lorries arrive into Isiolo from Nairobi between midnight and 4a.m. so obviously when I arrived, I was too early. I met a couple “brokers” (guys who find trucks for people for a small fee), and one agreed that he could get me a ride in the afternoon, around 6. Having nowhere to go, I hung out in some back alley cafe, read and wrote a little, and waited. After about an hour I got antsy and decided to walk around the town a bit (this will become important later, so just bear with me), and I did. The town is poor, most definitely, and there are a ton of street kids puffing glue and grown men chewing mirra (it is a local legal drug), which turns their mouths green and their eyes bright red. Still, I encountered no problems, even as I walked in the back alleys. While walking I met this woman named Mariam, a local shop owner. I sat with her and her sister for a while, stumbling through a conversation. About a half hour later, two young men came by, we were introduced, and I was invited up to their apartment–I went. They were great guys, both of which spoke good English. We hung out, talked about music and politics, and whatever else, and then I left to meet my transport.

Ready to leave I showed up at the stage, and of course, there was no vehicle. I was told something happened but that I should come back around 2a.m. I was pissed, but without options, I started thinking and decided to go back to Ibrahim’s apartment, to ask if I could stay ’till early morning. He obliged happily, thank God, and I was treated to dinner by Mariam. Ibrahim and I watched movies until late night, and then passed out for a couple hours. At 2a.m., I walked back over to the stage, and guess what, there was no vehicle. I waited and waited, drunkards and drugees all around, all of which were friendly though, I must say, and finally the transport arrived, but guess what? It wouldn’t take me, haha. I waited for lorries that were supposedly on their way, but which never came. At 6a.m. I gave up, and went back to Ibrahim’s. I slept most of the day, and waited for phone calls which never came about trucks. Finally at around 7pm I went back out to the stage.

I’ll shorten this up, but it suffices to say that at midnight, I finally got a lorry with a couple of guys I had met heading to Marsabit town, half way to the border. It was an amazing experience. There were about 20 – 25 of us, packed into the cargo bin, surrounded by mounds of sugar and other cargo. I won’t say it was comfortable, but it wasn’t bad. It did rain, but a small tarp covered us partly, so it was alright. It was so beautiful, watching the stars above and the nothingness around. I can’t describe it.

We went on like that for the next 10 hours, passing through small wild west looking towns and national parks, until finally we reached Marsabit. At first I was going to try and catch another lorry immediately to the border, but I was too tired, and there was no transport, so I took a room close by and slept. I’m glad I did. Marsabit is beautiful. It is high in the mountains, which is an amazing contrast to the vast desert and plains that surround the range on all sides. Because it is so isolated the people have maintained their cultures very well, and people dressed in tradtional tribal wear, piercings and all, can be seen all over town. It is really quite impressive. Besides the cultural aspect, I was also told of a Catholic Shrine up on this hill in the mountains, so I went. It is gorgeous, and no doubt one of the holiest places I have ever been. You can feel God everywhere.

Due to liking the place I decided to stay in Marsabit an extra day, making Thursday the day of my next expected travel. Thursday morning I went out to the stage to wait for trucks that were supposed to come by 7am. Surprise, surprise, they didn’t come. I waited and waited, and nothing. I started to get antsy again, especially because my money was running very short, and i was fearing having to pay another night. At about noon, I was starting to give up, but God, who is so good, sent me a great gift. Right after I finished eating my lunch, a small truck came up. I asked if they were going to Moyale, and they said no, but pointed to a small pick up about 400 yards away that was leaving right then. No one has ever seen me run so fast. I got to the truck, and began asking questions. They were going, but the guy managing the truck was not having it. He asked for my passport, made faces at me, and basically said no. Thank God, I had been waiting with this gentleman all morning, a local, who took to my aid. He began asking the man for me, pleading my case, until finally I got the ok. It was the greatest ride ever. What I hadn’t realized was the following. The truck was a government truck, which meant that we were riding for free. Secondly, the ride, which was supposed to take 20 hours or so to the border in a lorry, took six, and a comfortable six at that.

The ride itself was impressive. We dropped out of the mountains into the desert, and for the next 6 hours, that is all we saw–endless desert. Absolute nothingness. There were a few tribes here and there, and tons of camel, but during that whole time, I saw only two towns, both of which could not have consisted of more than 300 people. It felt like Mad Max’s world. (and actually it is in many ways. Throughout the region there has been much fighting. Soldiers can be seen all over. As recently as 3 or 4 months ago there was fighting between tribes, mostly over water and grazing rights. but all was well, and many of the problems that existed do not now, or at least at the present moment.)

I arrived into Moyale at around 7pm (sorry this is so long, but this part is cool), and since the border was closed by that time, I had to stay the night in Kenya. I got a hotel with the man that helped me get the truck (his name was Simon), and woke up as early as I could to cross the border, which was really pointless since, and I didn’t know this before hand, the Ethiopian side didn’t open until 8am. I waited, ha, and actually I forgot, but once I got into immigration, the guy working had no idea, and I mean no idea what he was doing, so I had to process myself, haha. I took over the computer, and began typing everything in, and this at his begging. For some reason the system wasn’t working so someone else processed me, and hour later, manually, but the funny thing, is the original guy kept begging me to come in and explain the system to him. I left.

Ethiopia struck me at once, but there are so many things that I love about this country that it will have to be another blog itself.

So now the next part of the trip. I wanted to get to Addis (the capital) to sort out money and figure out what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go. The problem is the distance is like 900km, and transport is scarce. I waited four hours at a roadblock, until finally, at around 2pm, I got a truck carrying camels to take me. We road out of the flatlands and into the mountains. Unfortunately, the truck sucked, and broke down within the first 2 hours. After about a half hour, they fixed it, and we carried on, from town to town, mountain to mountain.

It is important to note that I speak no Amharic (the national language), and the guys I was riding with spoke no English (or Spanish, surprisingly, haha), so communication was difficult. After a while, I did ascertain, however, that they were actually going closer to Addis than I had initially asked them to take me, so I asked if I could ride with them as close to Addis as possible, and they said ok. We rode, and rode, and rode, and rode, and rode. We rode through the night, and the early morning. They asked me if they could borrow $20 for fuel, and I gave it to them, under the condition that they gave me collateral, and promised to pay it back that day. They said ok, and we were all happy. We kept driving north, so I was happy. What I didn’t realize, however, was that they could not pay me back until they made the sale of their camels, and another thing I didn’t know was that that sale, was to take place about 200km east of the capital. I never noticed them taking a right off our main road, and so it came to pass that at 7am or so, I found myself in a town, far off my original course, though unknowing, involved in a camel trade, haha.

I have never been in such a situation. The trade took about 2 hours, because bargaining, and unloading the animals took so long, plus one of the camels died upon arrival (it was sad and gross), and we had to, self included, take it out to the fields where it was to be devoured by vultures (there were carcasses all around). What an experience!!! Finally after the sale, I got my money, we had breakfast, and I was told where we were. I got pissed. They knew I wanted to go to Addis, and they took me so far out of my way. I got really upset, and then I came to a decision. On the map, I was far from the Capital, but I was relatively close to a city I wanted to visit called Harar(about 200km). So, totally off the cuff, I decided to just go to Harar first. I left the guys, and thank God again, got a free ride from a rich local Muslim family, who fed me and let me sleep.

Alas, after another small mini bus ride, I arrived into Harar on Saturday afternoon, six days after leaving Nairobi, and that is where I find myself now. I will say that it has all worked out. It turns out that the city is celebrating it’s thousandth anniversary over the course of these four days, and so it is packed with people and cool cultural things. I have made local friends, and am having a great time.

I am well, I have much more to write, but I have no more time. Take care. Sorry this was so long, but I hope you got some enjoyment from it.