Sunday, June 30, 2013

Atmospheric Details

There's a lot of aspects of day-to-day life that I haven't spent much time on in previous posts. Below are some topics that seem to come up in any guide or introduction to Addis and/or Ethiopia. (While this draws mainly on my own personal knowledge/observations, I'm not yet at the point where I can confidently tell you what the guides tend to get wrong.) 
  • Weather: Despite being just north of the equator, Ethiopia does not have the "tropical" climate that one reflexively envisions. The altitude of Addis, and perhaps some macrogeographic features that I'm not familiar with of the country as a whole, mean high's more-or-less in the 70's year-round. And the "less" is actually around this time of year: despite being in the Northern hemisphere, we're heading into Ethiopian "winter"--the rainy season. In recent weeks, brief torrential downpours have become more common, occurring nearly everyday, often in the mid-afternoon. I've been told July is the worst, so things will get worse before they get better. Nonetheless, it's been sunny almost every morning, so I am not yet experiencing the Vitamin D deprivation of, say, a Boston winter.
  • Calendar: Ethiopia has its own calendar which, if I understand correctly, is more or less equivalent to the Julian calendar rather than the more recently adopted (e.g. circa 16th century) Gregorian calendar. By this calendar the year is something like 2006 -- which can make figuring out which calendar is being used confusing when one sees a date in, for instance, government documents. The calendar also has 13 months which has been used as a basis for the tourist slogan "13 months of sun" -- conveniently ignoring the above-mentioned rainy season.
  • Food: The staple of Ethiopian food is injera, a spongy pancake made from tef, which is a grain grown basically only in Ethiopia. (When agriculture people talk about tef, there is a tendency to mention that it's now grown in the Netherlands--and I've once heard even Ohio--and that it may have growth potential in the west by virtue of being gluten-free). Injera is gray and slightly sour, and the other components of a meal are served on top of it, with the injera used to pick and sop them up without the help of additional utensils. Injera is seen as a piece of the Ethiopian soul--jokes are made about its supposed addictive qualities, and Ethiopians will often assume that as a foreigner you might miss your own customary bread and want to eat it at each meal. Common dishes to go on top of injera include shiro, an orange paste made of powdered chickpeas; tibs, basically chunks of cooked beef; and bayonetu, an assortment of vegetable dishes. Ethiopian Christianity calls for "fasting" -- meaning no meat/eggs/dairy on something like 40% of the days of the year, including an extended lent as well as most Wednesdays and Fridays. On these days bayonetu is easy to find, and on others not so much (as with non-vegetarians in India, when meat is both allowed and something that one can afford, the assumption seems to be that one would desire little else).
  • Language: Amharic is written in its own destinctive script and is a Semitic language -- which apparently makes it easier to learn for people unlike me who have studied either Arabic or Hebrew. My employer sponsors lessons -- one a week individually, or more if you combine with others. So far I've managed to have two, and can do little beyond greet people.
  • Transport: The typical ferengi (foreigner) transport option here are the ancient blue and white cars which serve "contract" taxis. No fuel subsidies in Ethiopia (part of what keeps taxi rates in other parts of the developing world low) mean that the price you might pay over a given distance is half--and not some fraction of--what you'd pay in the US, though an Ethiopian will also tend to pay less. That said, a much more common transport option for locals--and also refered to as "taxis"--are the (also ancient, also blue and white) minibuses following fixed routes between central points in the city. Along these routes, minibuses will slow at the sight of potential passenger, swing open the sliding door, and the ticket-taker will barrage you with the name of that line's destination -- "Bole bole bole bole". A minibus costs under 2 birr (10 cents) for a distance that might be 50 birr in a contract taxi. Beyond the minibuses, public transport options are limited: red and yellow full-size public buses follow a few routes within the city center -- they conspicuously lack in emissions control mechanisms and I've been told led their first lives in 1970's Holland; a light-rail line is apparently under constructed as well, contracted out to a Chinese firm. But most locals walk. Often, given the frequent lack of sidewalks, this means walking in the road. Some transport options I'd expect to see are actually uncommon: Three wheelers (auto rickshaws/tuk-tuks, called Bajaj here for their Indian manufacturer) are banned from most of Addis, and one rarely sees bicycles of motorcycles either -- Ethiopians I've asked say they wouldn't feel safe on them, but I wonder if there's a more structural explanation as well.
  • Women: Ethiopia and those who describe it often makes a claim to have "the most beautiful women in the world." This is obviously a matter of personal preference, but I wouldn't say its baseless. Ethiopians in general, while their appearance is clearly African, perhaps show some Middle Eastern traits as well (which would certainly be in accord with the cultural sphere). These two statements are probably as far as I want to go either on the topic of attractiveness or in making generalizations about appearance at the national level. In terms of clothing, women in Addis appear to follow a relatively conservative dress code, with flowing white scarfs and a generally more traditional impression, while men are more westernized in appearance.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Adama, Football, and the Institutional Environment

Between a busy couple weeks and a desire to catch up on Mad Men, I'm running out of time in the window I had set aside tonight to bring my blog up to date. (By the way, if you want to stay up to date on this blog but with minimal effort, there's now a box at bottom to subscribe to future updates by e-mail).

Last Sunday, it was the outbound leg of another work trip that cut into my blogging time. The destination was Adama, a city 100k southeast of Addis that--startlingly in a country of 90 million people--is the country's third largest city with a population of only 250,000. A population that's 80% rural will tend to do that. (I should also note that all of these numbers are approximate at best.)

A few other interesting facts about Adama:
  • It was renamed Nazret (Nazareth) by the then-Emperor in the mid-20th century. He was apparently on a biblical-naming kick to emphasize his line's claim of descent from Solomon (the Christian aspect of Ethiopian history is fascinating). The name Adama was only re-instituted in 2000 and you hear Ethiopians call it both.
  • For a few years in the last decade, the city was made the capital of Oromia, Ethiopia's most populous state. The capital has since been moved back to Addis. Needless to say, it sounds like there's some politics behind this--in particular the account I've heard is that the move was meant to duly reward and punish areas supportive and less so of the national powers that be.
  • Due to this political episode, the road into town passes several fancy new complexes that from the air at least could pass remarkably well for a UFO staging area. For the sake of completeness, I believe the image below shows a monument to the ruling party (full circle in the top middle-right--the center of the circle contains a pair of joining hands), the regional government center (semicircle below--I'm told these facilities are still used sometimes), the regional court of justice (I think this may be the large parking lot with the smallish cluster of buildings just below the bottom traffic circle), and a fourth complex (no recollection of a sign for this one).

View Larger Map



There's not too much to recount from the three days I spent in Adama -- much of it was passed in Amharic-language meetings. Two recollections deserve mention, however, and both come from the Sunday afternoon we first arrived in town. One involves football (soccer) and the other a conversation with a colleague.

We arrived around 4:30 PM and just as the first half of an Ethiopia-South Africa world cup qualifying draw was ending. An Ethiopia win would clinch the qualifying group and send the team through to the final round--a home and home series against a yet-to-be-determined opponent. A loss would put South Africa in the group lead, in prime position to deny Ethiopia advancement with only one game left.

Running may be the de facto national sport of Ethiopia, but with the stakes this high (Ethiopia had never advanced to a World Cup or even been this close), the nation was riveted. We'd been listening by radio in the car as South Africa got off to a dominating start and a 1-0 lead. But as we contracted our rooms for the night ($20/night for a pleasant, clean room with good light and satellite TV), Ethiopia equalized on the black-and-white TV in the lobby, scoring on a well-placed shot off a solid cross.

I spent the next hour in the bar, behind an intent mass of Ethiopians, watching Ethiopia take the lead on a devastating own goal for South Africa, and then hold on through the final minutes. The group in the bar erupted, though it was no match for the frenetic joy in the scenes from the stadium in Addis where the match was played. (Some friends tried and failed to get tickets--they went on sale at noon on match day, went for as low as 50 cents, and the only reliable way to procure them was to wait on line for several hours).

Walking around later, it was clear the whole city shared in expressing the celebratory spirit, to the extent that one of my colleagues commented that he wasn't sure people were aware that this had clinched only advancement to the next qualifying round, and not the World Cup birth itself. Much of the enthusiasm consisted of crowds of young men blocking the street to slow passing vehicles--allowing them to climb aboard and ride along the tops and sides. I didn't bring a camera to Adama, but the below scene of similar merry-making comes from a friend in Addis:
(Credit for this photo goes to Hayoung)


Unfortunately--with apologies to anyone who already knew this and has nonetheless been waiting this long for me to reveal it--it emerged the next day that Ethiopia had, in their prior match, played an ineligible player. They were forced to forfeit 3 of their points and their lead over South Africa is no longer unassailable. Still, a win in the next game--which comes in September and in which Ethiopia will face a weaker opponent--will propel Ethiopia through and provide reason for another such celebration.

My guide for this walk around the city was an Ethiopian coworker, a senior agronomist, who seemed somewhat bemused by the level of excitement. The second notable takeaway from the day were was his backstory as it came out of over the course of our walk. While I won't presume to tell it in full here, some interesting fragments include:
  • When he received higher education in the 1970's, there were only two universities in all of Ethiopia. There are now over 30.
  • Under the prior regime, he had the opportunity to study in Eastern Europe under the iron curtain. With the emergence of the current regime, the geographic alignment shifted and he studied in America and Europe.
  • He sees sustained peace, more than anything else, as the driver of recent growth in the country.
I'm not doing this conversation justice--and perhaps can't without giving a more in-depth recounting than I'd like.

To me, the common thread among my takeaways is the extent to which the fundamental institutional environment of this country has seen staggering change (geopolitical realignment, stability, etc.) within the timeframe of a lifetime rather than a historical epoc. Though there do appear to be continuities as well, the scale of the change marks it in contrast to recent US history. (I'd also note that, as a young person, I still have a sense of permanence around the set of things and circumstances I've been acclimated too, which may lead me to underestimate the degree of intra-lifetime--vs. historical-scale--change that is "normal" in today's world.)

To back off on the jargon, the current conventional wisdom on Africa holds that, while there's a long way to go, things are moving fast here in a way that few would've imagined a decade ago and many still don't realize. If I wanted to be a good blogger and tie everything in this overlong post neatly together, I could claim that Adama, Ethiopian football, and my conversation takeaways all--in one way or another--provide another grain of evidence for this view.

Sunday, June 09, 2013

What have I been reading?

Before leaving for Ethiopia, I picked up several books on the country. So far I've read:
  • A History of Ethiopia (Updated Edition) This was a fairly academic history. After struggling through several chapters trying to get a visual map of the different tribes and dynasties involved, the modern history was much more relatable, if not cheerier.
  • The Emperor A journalist's lyrical account reconstructing the last days of the Imperial reign inside the palace in Addis Ababa. Most memorable part was looking up the journalist afterwards and seeing he'd been revealed to be a spy/collaborator with the Polish secret police.
Last weekend, I had lunch at Lime Tree, a very expat focused cafe (menu includes humus/mezza, Indian thalis, lots of sandwiches and pizza, plus they do Wok Wednesday and Tex-Mex Tuesdays/Thursdays). Afterwards, I stopped by the attached "BookWorld" and picked up some local English-language periodicals.

Having read through most of these on the trips to and from Awassa, I feel I've learned something about both 1) the local news environment and 2) current debates around the direction of Africa's economy and politics (there was a lot of Pan-Africanism talk, which links to the recent 50-year anniversary of the African Union, celebrated in Addis).

For now, though, you get the superficial descriptions I jotted down before making my way through these fine publications:
  • The Reporter Motto: Free Press Free Speech Free Spirit, Logo: "Rescue Press freedom from the hangman's noose" with aforementioned hangman, noose, victim, and stool being kicked away. Nothing in here actually felt too controversial
  • Ethiopian Weekly Press Digest Each section is split into "In government media" and "In private media"
  • ZOMA: Addis Ababa's Monthly Magazine This glossy seems to aim for the Lifestyle Magazine segment. Cover stories include "The African Union and the Changing Faces of Security Threats in Africa" and "Hip-Hop for Social Change"
  • Ethiopian Business Review Cover story : From Doom to Bloom, top bar: "The Man with 900 Million Dollar," touting an exclusive interview with the representative of the African Development Bank
For what it's worth, I've also been reading travel guides, briefing documents for work, lots of nytimes.com to feel connected, and--intermittently--Tony Judt's Thinking the Twentieth Century.

A Journey

I made my first trip out of Addis this past Monday. It was a work trip, and my most recent work trip before this was to Topeka, Kansas, so this was a little different.

I went along with a local ATA analyst to attend a "lessons learned" workshop the next day in Awassa, a regional capital 300 km south of Addis, in the Great Rift Valley, that's known for its picturesque lake and its large university. I got lucky and we largely took the "scenic route" from Addis -- a two-car wide strip of Asphalt through recently-planted fields (many of them growing maize!) and shrubby hills that can be faster than the congested "main road," which we picked up toward the end and which goes through village after village. In our time on both roads we occasionally had to slow for herds of cows and goats.

Awassa is apparently a weekend destination for Addis's middle class. We found a new, rectangular hotel near the lake, outfitted with Chinese-made modcons (the TV remote, for instance, had no English or Amharic in evidence). A brief evening walk along the lake shore -- past shacks offering pool tables and fish fries which were largely deserted on a Monday -- led to the picture below.

The next day's workshop was entirely in Amharic (which is the main official language of Ethiopia, although English is apparently a standard part of the curriculum and is the language of big business). Beyond getting to introduce myself -- Ene Max Kornblith ebalalau. Ke ATA nau yehmeh tahut ("I am Max Kornblith. I come from ATA.") -- I was fairly useless. Most of the other attendees were managers of farmers cooperative unions, and the project being discussed--which is a major one for my team--is something you can read more about here via the Huffington Post.

The trip back was uneventful -- i.e. I slept most of the 4-hour drive. Overall, I'd say it was a successful trip.

Below: Lake Awassa at sunset
Bottom: Central Hotel Awassa, location of the lessons learned workshop



Monday, June 03, 2013

In the news

So if I'd gone for my walk up North one day later, it could've been a quite different experience.

Didn't hear about this anywhere today but BBC on the hotel TV today (I'm still in something of a bubble), but the flyering I saw going on yesterday makes more sense now.

Sunday, June 02, 2013

Q&A

Thanks to Sonum for the questions

1.Living: So how is your place?
I'm still in a hotel. Looking to move out in a week to fill-in in the shared house of a colleague who'll be back in the US through end of June. I've looked at a couple options after that point -- both involve taking a room in an existing set-up of development professionals. One was a quite pleasant house, the other an apartment somewhat more convenient to work. (The commute vs. quality of housing trade-off has followed me to Addis.) Both are in a price-range inaccessible to all but the most well-off Ethiopians, and comparable to what you could pay in less popular US cities.

2. Work: How are the people? Is the office space nice?
Everybody's nice so far. Obviously I still don't quite feel like I know what I'm doing. Both the locals and the foreign hires generally seem welcoming and qualified.

The office itself is perhaps surprisingly "normal." Same laptop docks, monitors, etc. as at my old job and potentially better furniture. We're on the eighth floor, have lots of light, free tea and coffee and people who clear the cups from your desk (which means no more Coke Zero can pyramids--although this is triply true here since soda comes in glass bottles and basically all the Coke is Classic).


3. Addis: What do you think of the city?

Some numbers

Estimated GDP per capita (all figures approximate and expressed in current US dollars at Purchasing Power Parity):

Ethiopia (2012): $1,200

Addis Ababa (~2010): $1,100

India (2012): $3,900
Delhi (~2010): $11,000

US in 1800: $1,600

US in 1900: $6,600
US in 2012: $50,000

Caveats: GDP is not a perfect measure of economic prosperity. Among other shortcomings, as a mean (straight average) it doesn't try to capture the "typical person's" economic situation and can be skewed upwards by inequality that benefits relatively few people. Additionally, the Delhi GDP figure sounds quite over-stated to me, possibly due to not acknowledging the lesser value of the rupee in Delhi vs. the country as a whole. (For those of you wondering, the Ethiopian currency is the birr, by the way, and currently sits at about 18.5 to the dollar).

Sourcing: Addis GDP is drawn from city reports and personal conversion. Source for all other figures is Wikipedia. Historical US data also used help of usinflationcalculator.com to take 2000 dollars to 2012. 

Some photos



Above: View to the Northwest from 10th floor window of the Hotel de Leopol International, Addis

Below: Standard Room at the de Leopol (Promotional photo. Not pictured: intermittently functioning shower, 70's-era white tiger-themed lounge bar.*)



*Also not pictured: reason for seemingly naming your hotel after one of the worst colonial madmen in African history