By Victoria Moores | Flight Global
My recent visit to Addis Ababa in Ethiopia revealed it to be a place filled with contrast, extremely warm characters and confusing timelines.
First up, the timelines. It’s like travelling back in time. No, literally. In Ethiopia it is 2001. Their calendar is seven to eight years behind ours, depending on whether we’ve had our New Year. This means the Ethiopians celebrated the turn of their millennium on 11 September 2007.
The Ethiopian year also has an extra month, giving them the perk that their tourism brochures can truthfully boast 13 months of sunshine (even though the thirteenth month lasts only five days).
Add the fact that they have a completely different time system, and you have the proverbial cherry on the cake. Please note I’m not talking about the three-hour time difference from GMT here.
At what we would normally regard as 0600, it’s twelve o’clock there. They have 12 daytime hours and 12 night time hours, so 1500 by our clock is nine in the afternoon by theirs, a member of Ethiopian’s PR team informs me, somewhat intrigued by my fascination with the subject.
Unsurprisingly this led to a degree of confusion over the timings of my Airline Business cover interview with Ethiopian Airlines CEO Girma Wake.
Ethiopian’s PR guy said by e-mail: “Your interview is scheduled at 9:00pm tomorrow. It will be done at the board room. I will arrange a car to pick you from Sheraton at 02:15pm.”
After a bit of clarification, it emerged that the interview was actually scheduled for 1500, not 2100. I take solace from the fact that even Ethiopians find the system a bit confusing.
The moral of this? Don’t expect simplicity from a country which has a 300-letter alphabet.
Then there’s the contrast. The Sheraton in Addis (grounds pictured above) could happily slot in unnoticed among Dubai’s many palatial hotels. The surroundings, beyond the boundries of the luxurious, landscaped hotel compound, however, could not.
Goats wander the edge of the road. Beggars mingle among the cars, selling tissues and audio cassettes. Women and children work on construction sites, the upcoming buildings clad in bamboo scaffolding.
There are colours everywhere, from vibrant parasols to the more sombre, but beautiful, red jewelled coffins stacked up outside shops neighbouring a church. Every dusty side track has a collection of residences, in the loosest possible use of the term, their walls formed from corrugated iron, fabric sheets or, as you go farther off track, wattle and daub.
The country’s warmth, quirkiness and unbreakable spirit can be felt at Ethiopian Airlines’ headquarters, where it’s easy to forget the poverty down town. But, as always, the devil is in the detail. In the ladies’ toilets there’s a container filled with free condoms for the airline’s staff. Outside there is an Ethiopian Airlines advertising billboard, which shows an aircraft but carries the slogan: “All of us have a responsibility to fight HIV/AIDS.”
But the people. The people are amazing. Ethiopian’s chief agrees to pose for a photo with Flight’s mascot, Stefan the pilot. Children and adults greet us with enthusiasm, smiling warmly and proudly as we take pictures. Their happiness is infectious and, amid the poverty, it made me question exactly what we westerners have to be so glum about.
Ethiopians are very family orientated. I regale our hosts with a story about my return flight from my last visit, when a Somalian co-passenger told me about his 70 brothers and sisters (I’ll save you the maths, it was one dad and several mums). Ethiopian’s various PR team members express surprise at the tale, but two of them have nine siblings – maybe not quite as extreme as my Somanlian friend but still a very big family by our standards. I’m introduced to one of the PR manager’s brothers, a restaurant manager at the Sheraton. He greets me like family, lots of photos are taken on their cameras and I’m invited in for coffee.
And then there’s the odd quirky surprise. Beware: Addis Ababa’s altitude makes bottles pop open, as I discovered when my roll-on deodorant successfully aimed, and then fired, its ball at my underarm.
During our trip we visited a cultural restaurant, with local singing, dancing and cuisine. Ethiopians don’t traditionally use cutlery, so a waiter – armed with liquid soap, an ornate kettle and a large dish – appeared, pouring soap and warm water over our hands at the table.
Our shared platter (pictured below) includes injera, a pancake-like bread, which I’d experienced during my previous visit. At the time I wasn’t aware it was a bread and its grey, spongy, flannel-like texture made question whether it was, in fact, animal’s intestines. Injera is served rolled, like a napkin. One of my Ethiopian hosts says unknowing tourists often shake out the injera, neatly placing it on their laps in preparation for the meal.
The Ethiopian PR guys say it’s normal for visitors to have their feet washed after the meal. Thankfully, this didn’t happen and I later gather that this is a standard joke to use on westerners. Unfortunately they weren’t joking when they merrily summoned a local dancer, encouraging Tom (our photographer) and I to mimic the professional’s impossibly controlled neck movements in front of a full audience. I think I’ll stick with journalism.
With the goal of exploring a bit more of this fascinating country, we show our hosts an article in Ethiopian’s in-flight magazine about the ruins of Washa Mikael church, which was built from a single piece of rock and is situated on the outskirts of Addis. It’s accessed by a 45-minute walk, but the article says you can get there by car. One of the PR team says, grinning: “When they say ‘car’, they mean ‘CAR’.” A jeep shows up at the hotel. The engine starts, and I have a terrible feeling that our CAR may have an internal carbon monoxide emissions issue. I don’t mention it.
DSCN2869.JPGAs we steadily trundle on, it emerges that the exact location of our destination is, erm, hazy. At one point we were stopping every 50 feet to ask directions.
We ventured off-tarmac, to an unpaved road, and our route dilemma became a little clearer. We asked two random students (pictured right) for more directions. They, of course, hopped in the back to join our unlikely posse. The road then became bumpy. Very bUmPy.
When we finally arrived at the ruins, Tom and I stood by as a long, passionate discussion ensued between the church’s curators, our driver, Ethiopian’s PR guy and the students. The debate’s key prop was a notice board and the discourse seemed to centre on money, opening hours and more money to use cameras. I don’t know the details; I still hadn’t mastered the 300-letter Amaric alphabet by that point.
Negotiations amicably concluded, the church ruins (pictured left) were revealed in their serene beauty.
Once we’d fully taken in the worn, old building, our intrepid crew, which had now grown to eight including a priest and a guide (or nine with Stefan!), trekked briefly through a eucalyptus-perfumed forest to a nearby vantage point.
The view over Addis was stunning and we all gathered on a large rock to take it in.
It’s hard not to smile and relax when you’re in an environment which is this far removed from normal day-to-day life.
When we were finally reunited with our jeep, a young girl, who seemed to be the daughter of the priest, was keen to see the photos I’d taken of her and her brother. I showed her and she gave me a huge, delighted smile before being summoned back to dad. I captured the two of them together in a final photo.
Seriously, if you get the opportunity, do visit Ethiopia. It’s a fantastic country, filled with fantastic people, who have an amazingly positive outlook on life. I have never smiled, laughed, or felt so humble, on a press trip.
By Ethan Holtzman
With over 10 million inhabitants residing in LA, cultural diversities coexist in a dynamic relationship that is unparalleled in most parts of the world. If you happen to drive ten miles in any one direction you can pass through Thai town, Little Ethiopia, Koreatown the list goes on and on. It’s as if we have the entire globe crammed into this vibrant sprawl. This is what I like best about my city. I effortlessly encounter life that is colored with varied cuisine and the chance to indulge in music created from all across the globe. So it was all part and parcel when Mochilla and ArtDontSleep hosted Timeless, a weekly series of epic multi-culti proportions.
On Sunday, February 1st they brought together an impressive line up in this four part series paying homage to the composers whose oeuvre in the past has inspired the beatmakers of the future. And the opening night was no exception as it featured the legendary creator of ethio-jazz, Mulatu Astatke. The man graced Los Angelenos with a live performance at Cal State LA’s Luckman auditorium. As the first African student to enroll at the prestigious Berklee College of music, Astatke had been creating music with his signature sound, fusing the east backbone with a unique style of jazz and Latin rhythms. A legacy that spanned over forty years and continues today.
The night opened up with Cut Chemist, Quantic and Egon, three DJs from the LA scene who had been inspired and awed by Astatke’s musical prowess. Cut Chemist rocked the auditorium spinning rare Ethiopian 45’s among other obscure cultural gems. I witnessed some of the best musical abstractions: tweaking and scratching, creating loops, speeding up, slowing down, and warping them through a thrilling effects rig. To top off this performance, a video camera was propped up, overlooking Cut’s tables so the audience could visually experience the musical mayhem. The screen was split, with one half focused on Cut’s upper torso and turntables, and the lower portion on his feet working the effects pedals. It was impressive to see his lightening skills, watching adroit fingers scratching and dialing in all the knobs on the fly. At one point during a segue in his set he caught his breath and yelled out, “hang on for a sec, it’s like tuning an instrument for each song.” It was quite possibly one of the best live DJ sessions I’ve witnessed.
When Mulatu Astatke took to the stage he got a standing ovation that reverberated throughout the auditorium. The whistles and applause were so loud it momentarily deafened my ears. I noticed to my left groups of Ethiopian-Americans came out to represent their national pride and rally support for their country’s hero. I surveyed the sold out crowd; and it seemed like every artist, musician and DJ I knew from the LA scene was at this very special show.
Dressed in stately white Astatke, accented with a colorful Ethiopian scarf round his neck; he greeted the hushed audience with a beaming grin. He played the vibes, Congas and Timbalis. Backing him up was a twelve-piece orchestra, which was an egalitarian mix of young and old players local to the Los Angeles music scene. Now in his late 60’s Astatke has clearly established his sound but relies more on his orchestra to fill in for the live show. A subdued performance in comparison to his younger days. He came in on the vibraphone for a solo, punctuating the orchestral swell with his sweet floating melodies. Then he’d chill out on the Congas and allowed the talented players to trade off and floss a bit. The mellifluous strains of Miguel Atwood-Ferguson’s viola and the saxophones of Azar Lawrence played nicely off the African percussion provided by Alan Lightner and Munyungo Jackson. Local musicians Dan Ubick updated the ethiopian jazz numbers with his distorted electric guitar, while Todd Simon provided passionate horn lines to the music.
There was an undeniable raw funkiness that the original Ethiopian military band brought to the recordings, that no session player from Los Angeles could ever truly replicate. With that said, however, the orchestra had a sumptuous L.A. atmosphere that was a welcoming derivative to the Ethiopiques’ recordings (on the label, Buda Musique) I’ve been listening to for so many years.
Bahrain’s Alemu Bekele, originally from Ethiopia, wins the junior men’s race at the 10th Asian Cross Country Championships
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Bahrain’s Alemu Bekele Gebre has been tipped as the next Kenenisa Bekele. Alemu is said to have a similar running style as multi-titled world record holder Kenenisa, apart from sharing the name Bekele and originating from the same Ethiopian hometown of Bekoji.
He yesterday won the junior men’s race at the 10th Asian Cross Country Championships, which was his first participation in a major competition at the international level.
Alemu, aged only 18, is being guided by veteran Bahrain national coach Tolosa Kotu, who is a highly respected distance running tactician. Among Kotu’s past athletes was another multi-titled runner, Ethiopia’s Haile Gebrselassie.
“He is talented and a very good athlete,” Kotu told the GDN. “He has been training with me for one year, and he is one of my best. He can be the next Kenenisa Bekele.”
Bekele is a three-time Olympic champion and three-time world champion, and presently holds world records in the men’s 5,000m and 10,000m.
Alemu will be competing primarily in 1,500m in the early part of his international career, said Kotu, with a move to the 3,000m to follow. Before the 2009 track season, however, Alemu will represent Bahrain at the 37th World Cross Country Championships in Amman next month.
“He looks like Bekele and he runs the same way,” said Bahrain Athletics Association technical manager Lounes Madene.
Added Kotu: “Right now, he still has to show what he can do against other top distance runners in world events, but sure his talent is there. If he is the next Bekele, we can only wait and see.”
– BAHRAIN (The Gulf Daily News)
EDITOR’S NOTE: The Ethiopian and Somalis who drowned and died were trying to escape the hell on earth created in Ethiopia and the Horn of Africa by the U.S.-financed Tigrean People Liberation Front (Woyanne). According to the U.N., so far 32,000 Ethiopians made it safely to Yemen, but thousands have perished trying to cross the deadly Gulf of Aden.
YEMEN (Yemen Post) – In the second accident in a week, at least 45 African migrants, mostly Somalis and Ethiopians, died as their boat capsized off the Gulf of Aden. The Yemeni Interior Ministry said the boat which was carrying about 46 displaced people overturned 95 kilometers southeast of the Mukala seaport. The ministry Media Center reported that an Ethiopian and three human smugglers made it to land.
The Yemeni authorities became aware about the accident through one of the survivors, a Somali sailor aged 35. Later Authorities in coordination with the Yemeni Fishermen Association seized the boat owners and investigated them. The arrestees confessed their boat capsized off the Mukala port while they were trying to make a shortcut to smuggle 46 displaced African people into Yemen.
They said all who were onboard drowned except an Ethiopian who could swim until he reached Yemeni coast. On February 24, six Somali refugees died and 11 others were missing when human smugglers forced them to jump overboard in deep water.
The boat was one of seven boats that carried African displaced people to Yemen of which six had already arrived in Yemeni coasts. While the seven refused to sail closer to shore with its crew forcing its passengers to swim in deep waters.
In January, the UNHRC reported that 168 boats carried 9449 African refugees to Yemen of whom 47 Somali refugees died on way. In January, two ferries carrying more than 300 Somali and Ethiopian migrants capsized off the Bab El-Mandab strait. Hundreds were rescued and dozens were missing presumed dead. Somali refugees continue to arrive in Yemen almost in daily numbers, with the number of those, according to last figures, who have already arrived in Yemen exceeding 800.000 people.
By Sarah Boslaugh | Play Back
The award-winning film Live and Become (Va, vis et deviens) by Romanian-French director Radu Mihaileanu uses the story of an Ethiopian Christian boy airlifted to Israel in 1985 as part of Operation Moses to examine questions of national and racial identity in modern Israel.
Young Schlomo (the name he adopts in Israel; we never learn his Ethiopian name) passes as the son of a Jewish woman whose own son died immediately before the airlift. Told by both his mothers that he must never reveal his true identity (Israeli officials immediately deport refugees they believe are not Jews), Schlomo has more than the usual amount of culture shock to deal with. The strain of his deception also weighs heavily on him, and he retreats into a shell punctuated by outbursts of violence.
Things start to look up when Schlomo is adopted by a secular French-Israeli couple (Yael Abecassis and Roschdy Zem), and gradually he begins to adjust to life in his new country. He bonds with his adoptive grandfather (Rami Danon) and enlists the Ethiopian rabbi Qes Amhra (Yitzhak Edgar) to write letters in Amharic to his mother in Ethiopia.
It’s not all milk and honey in the land of Israel, however. Despite Israel’s initial enthusiasm at welcoming the Falashas, many individual Israelis are prejudiced against non-Europeans. Parents at Schlomo’s school think he’s going to infect their children with strange African diseases and Shlomo is summoned to undergo symbolic re-circumcision (as were all Falashas) to establish his Jewishness. It’s not surprising that he prays to wake up white and speaking Yiddish so he’ll be a real Jew.
Things get worse when Schlomo becomes a teenager. He falls in love with a pretty classmate (Roni Hadar) and enters a Scripture competition in order to impress her father, who sees him only as a Black African not good enough for his daughter. The contradictions of Schlomo’s existence pile up, eventually bringing him into conflict with his adoptive family.
Live and Become tells the story of Schlomo at three stages of life: child, adolescent and young adult. The actors playing Schlomo (Moshe Agazai, Mosche Abebe and Sirak M. Sabahat) are excellent but have too much ground to cover; this story has enough material for a three-part television miniseries. The strongest section is Schlomo’s childhood; his struggles to adapt to life in Israel are entirely absorbing, in part because the filmmaker allows them to unfold at a leisurely pace. But the second and third sections are rushed and disorienting, as if the filmmaker needed to tick off a series of events before bringing the film to a rather forced conclusion.
The DVD of Live and Become is available for pre-order from Menemsha Films; it will be released on April 7, 2009. The visual and audio transfer are excellent, but it’s a barebones package; the only extra on the disc is the film’s trailer.
