Addis Ababa
The air is thick with pollution and the spicy sweet smell of eucalyptus wood smoke. You’re as likely to see a sophisticated professional walking down the street with a briefcase as you are a peasant wrapped in a dirty gabi running a small herd of oxen. Or goats.
Blue and white mini-bus taxi cabs jammed with people behind steamy windows careen down the streets next to miniature cars 50 years old and still running.
Our SUV stops and children or disabled people or just poor people rush to the window saying, “Birr, money, money, birr…” People everywhere walking, carrying impossibly large loads on their backs or their heads, pushing wheelbarrows full of tomatoes, or firewood, or old shoes. Dirty feet in broken rubber sandals, mud sidewalks. Tiny walk-up corrugated metal stores selling spices in plastic bags. Or meat. (That’s a horsehair fly swatter the meat seller has in his hand there.)
Scenes that didn’t make sense. An ancient sewing machine with a man sewing dozens of burlap sacks together – right in the city.
The view of the neighborhood across the street from our 4 star international hotel window.
Source: Susan at homecake