(By Frugal Bachelor) – When I was in Ethiopia, the power went off every few days, all day long, from 8:30 AM – 8:30 PM. Not only in the little towns, but even in the national capital. This caused a lot of inconvenience. For example, when I had to confirm a flight (only in Ethiopia – yes you actually have to), I went to the airline office, but the power was off and the one single airline in the entire country (which has a population much higher than California and Texas combined) could tell me nothing about what flight I might be on and whether or not it would still be taking off as scheduled, so I had to come back the next day, and had to spend a day or so completely unaware of when I would be leaving a particular city (the horror! the horror!). Internet communication was of course impossible (an interesting thing I noticed was that most internet cafes were actually open on the days without electricity, leading me to believe that in Ethiopia there was not really very much to do). General businesses were open and generally candlelit if they didn’t have big windows; places like restaurants were always open, but drinks were warm because the refrigeration was down.
The hardest part was the last few hours from 6:00 PM until 8:30 PM after the sun had set. I spent that time inside my room, but with zero light, it was very difficult. The only thing I could do was lie in my bed.
I’ve made the decision that I want to see what it would be like to live in America without power. So, today, at 8:30 AM, I’m going to the circuit box and switching the power off to my apartment. It will stay off until 8:30 PM. I want to live like an Ethiopian. Since it is summer and the sun doesn’t set until 9:00 PM, it won’t be as tough as it was in Ethiopia – I will have to repeat the experiment in the winter. I have a few errands to run today, but I will be home most of the day.
Not sure completely what I expect to learn from this experiment. Maybe I can disconnect electricity from my apartment totally and save a few dollars per month? One thing I want to see is if my lifestyle has become so supersized that I cannot function without power. If nothing else my power bill for this month should be about 1/30’th lower. I will post my key learnings after the power comes back on at 8:30 PM!
(AP) ADDIS ABABA, Ethiopia – Ethiopia’s runners have won at least one gold medal at almost every Olympics since 1960. The country’s other athletes have been shut out.
Now a member of the Ethiopian team for the Beijing Games intends to fight his way onto the podium, against overwhelming odds.
Molla Getachew is Ethiopia’s only Olympic boxer, an anomaly in a country known for its superstar distance runners. His opponents are the last in a long line of problems standing between him and a gold, including a lack of equipment, no professionals to train against and a disapproving mother.
But when the Beijing Games open in August, he will represent Ethiopia in the 112-lb. flyweight division, a weight class dominated by well-equipped fighters from Mexico, Thailand and Japan.
“I feel sad because I’m the only boxer representing my country at the Olympics,” said the 22-year-old, who spends four hours a day training at an airless, grimy gym in the Ethiopian capital.
Boxing is popular elsewhere in Africa – neighboring Kenya is full of boxing clubs and boasts several champions – but Ethiopia’s poverty makes the sport’s equipment inaccessible to many.
Professional fights are nonexistent, so boxers have to leave the country to make a living from the sport. In a country of 77 million people, there are only 300 amateur boxers at the country’s four boxing clubs, yet even that small number strains the available resources.
“The boxers are good,” said Fasil Keita, who heads the Ethiopian Boxing Federation. “The problem is money. The federation doesn’t have money.”
Molla’s intense morning workout is an exercise in resourcefulness. He bobs and weaves between five lumpy heavy bags that hang from the ceiling, peppering them with punches. His trainer, Salamon Zinna, takes him through speed and footwork exercises, as there are no bags designed for speed or coordination, no medicine ball, and only one jump rope between Molla and his partner.
There is no boxing clock to ring the bell between 3-minute rounds, so Salamon keeps time with an old wristwatch. The dilapidated ring, the only regulation ring in the country, is so warped and uneven that fancy footwork would be foolhardy. Instead, Molla and his partner spar on the hard gym floor.
Molla does not even own a pair of gloves, or ankle-supporting boxing shoes. He fights in sneakers and borrows training gloves from the gym’s meager supply closet.
Even Molla’s track record is modest. With just six fights under his belt he is 4-2, with no knockouts. He’s woefully unprepared to meet better-funded, better-trained fighters.
But what he lacks in equipment and experience, he makes up for with sheer determination.
The right-handed fighter throws textbook-perfect punches with lightning speed, never seeming to tire as he jabs at his opponent, ducking before throwing a jaw-crushing uppercut. During breaks, he paces, not stopping to drink water.
“He’s good, strong,” Fasil said. “But he lacks experience. He went with me to Egypt, to Algeria. He lost in the first round. But he keeps fighting on. He has courage. He has fire.”
Molla said he was inspired by his neighbors to pick up boxing six years ago. Molla’s mother, he said, was always wary of the sport, even after he beat five other boxers to qualify for the Olympic team.
“My mom doesn’t know anything about boxing,” he said. “She thinks it’s violent and doesn’t want me to continue with this career. She doesn’t know anything about the Olympics. She only accepts it because she knows it’s a source of income.”
He earns about $70 a month from the boxing federation, which he gives to his mother for the care of his four younger siblings. In the unlikely event he wins a gold medal at the Olympics he hopes to pass on any rewards to his mother.
Aside from a medal, the normally quiet fighter has just one other wish.
“My father used to give me a lot of moral support, but he passed away,” he said. “I wish he could see the level I am at now.”