Same Same, But Different
Same as North America, Ethiopia has four seasons, but they are different in different ways. Krumt (June-August) is the cold, monsoon season of colossal rains, epic mud and chilly drops in temperature. S’aday (September-November) is the green spring, where things dry up, flowers bloom and the coffee harvest begins. Baga (Dec.-Feb.) is hot, dusty, and windy; everything turns a brownish color, but not in a pretty way. Balg (March-May) marks the returns of the rains, which brings back the green, and is said to be Ethiopia’s “true summer.”
During the wet season it thunderstormed at least once per day, literally bringing buckets of water to my doorstep (I collect my water from a catchment-basin system). Now that it’s S’aday, it’s rained maybe two or three times in the past three weeks where significant water fell from the sky. Thus, my previously willy-nilly water usage (using about 6 gallons per day) has been drastically reduced. Now my showers last 15 seconds. I eat out more (to avoid dirtying dishes). I wear the same outfit everyday (like Ethiopians do) and only do laundry twice a month. Since I have a bucket-flush squat toilet (requiring a liter of water every time I want to “flush”) I may even start using the college’s communal pit toilets more often.
People think a shortage of oil will change the Western World’s habits. I call bollocks on that … the coming water crisis will have much greater effect on our habits. I challenge you to tabulate how much water you use in a single day and compare it to my 2.5 gallons per day average. (According to a past issue of National Geographic, Americans use 100 gallons on average, per person, per day.) Gulp.
In Bonga, packaged food imported from Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Somaliland, Indonesia, India and Yemen are increasingly found in some of the shops, but for the most part everyone eats staples and seasonal food here. Here is the breakdown of the food seasons I know so far:
June-July-August: Avocados, tomatoes, pineapples, mangoes, corn
September-October-November: Guavas, papaya, green pumpkins, fresh coffee
There seems to be an infinite supply of red onions, garlic, green chili peppers, potatoes, and carrots here. Lemons, limes, and sour oranges are mostly available, though they might be imported from the Rift Valley area. Cabbage seems omnipresent, but with the lack of rain it may, too, disappear. Bananas have been abundant and cheap thus far, which means I’ll be making a ton of banana bread all year long. Jackfruit grows here and there, but I’ve never seen it for sale anywhere.
I’ve tried some strange fruit on buses here (long story), one of which was called “gishtah” (in Amharic) and was a green fruit with indentations, easily pierced skin revealing white, juicy flesh with almond-size black seeds inside. Its texture was like an overripe pear. Juicy, sweet and meaty: I really liked it. Unfortunately it was only available for a week in mid-September.
Airplanes simply do not pass over Bonga. The effect this has on one’s psyche has yet to be determined. I presume a jet flying overhead will freak me out in two years time. (Satellites, too, seem rare.)
The Milky Way stands out so much at night that it looks like a permanent cloud. It is the most prominent cosmic body seen at night, second only to two planets I have yet to identify but which I think are Jupiter and Saturn.
None of the constellations make any sense. My cosmic world is, literally, turned upside down. I am too close to the equator to see the Big Dipper or North Star and my knowledge of the equatorial constellations is zilch.
As opposed to West African nations, monkeys and baboons are mostly ignored and never eaten here. They are openly tolerated. Herds of olive baboons prowl the road construction sites between Jimma and Bonga looking for scraps tossed from passing buses. Shy, majestic black-and-white colobus monkeys perch in the treetops, eating leaves at dawn and dusk. Brown-and-white grivet monkeys are seen in the lower canopy and also scavenging around homes for scraps. The elusive, solitary De Brazza’s monkey is mostly found in deep jungle, and barks like an asthmatic dog when it sees humans.
Simple illustration of time/schedule valuation difference, as told to me the other day by a Math Teacher at my college:
Me: “When will classes start next week?”
Math Teacher: “Tuesday (he smiles) by your calendar. But maybe Wednesday or Thursday by Ethiopian time.” (He smiles widely again, as if this is funny). [It must be noted that college classes are already starting two weeks behind schedule as it stands.]
TV-watching Ethiopians probably watch more international news on TV, via the omnipresent BBC and Al-Jazeera satellite channels and few other options, than TV-watching Americans do. I’m not saying they comprehend these TV programs, as most Ethiopians have the TV on just for background noise.
Instant oatmeal mixed with powdered milk, dash of cinnamon, and a spoonful of honey and peanut butter will be my go-to breakfast (electricity permitting) most mornings. Oatmeal would be my tenth choice for breakfast options in the States, I hate it so much. But given that choices 1-9 are not easily obtainable (or require too much prepwork that it negates a “quick, nutritious breakfast”) I’ve grown a deep appreciation for instant oatmeal.
I’ve also cultivated a deep appreciation for black tea, dash of milk powder, diced ginger, and dash of cinnamon. It puts the sort of low-grade coffee one finds in Ethiopia to shame.
Over 80 languages are spoken in Ethiopia. Yes, even Ethiopians admit this can be frustrating at times.
New curtains!
