Megan and Steph…loving that exhaust!
The Human Lift
What have we gotten ourselves into!
(Kristen S., Christen S., and Me)
All Aboard
Are we there yet?
I know that this is a little bit behind the times, but I thought you might enjoy the account of my first experience at the Addis Ababa bus yard. Peace Corps made arrangements for us to meet our counterparts in Addis on Friday November 24 and then have them escort us, and most of our worldly possessions to site on the following day for a 1-week visit. Here is my moment by moment accounting of the events at the bus yard as taken directly from my journal. Trust me when I say there is no exaggeration here!
4:00: Alarm sounds. No…it can't be time to rise yet!
4:05: The lure of 1 last hot shower pulls me out of bed.
4:55: Enter the lobby of the hotel and try to locate my counterpart. I hope he recognizes me first as my eyes aren't working too well at this hour.
5:00: Spot counterpart and immediately apologize for the excessive weight of my luggage. I don't think he understands my morning greeting until he attempts to heft my metal box up off the floor. Counterpart leaves seeking strong reinforcements.
5:10: Leave hotel bound for the Addis bus station.
5:30: Arrive at bus station. Mass chaos ensues as guard won't let the luggage vehicle into the compound. Car, buses, people, and the occasional donkey are moving in all directions. Christen S's counterpart parks us out of harms way, tells us to "stay put", then dashes off to procure bus tickets.
5:45: Still standing in same spot and without luggage. Her counterpart returns without tickets---indicates that they are all gone, but doesn't seem overly concerned.
6:00: I am finally in possession of my luggage (far more than the 80 pounds I brought to country as I now have a PC issued metal box that I've managed to fill). Now discover that all luggage must be transported over a distance as long as 2 football fields. Note to self…luggage wheels don't roll over softball sized gravel. I opt to drag.
6:15: We finally arrive in the bus yard. The air is thick with exhaust and dust. Thousands of Ethiopians watch while the "pretty princesses" drag their ridiculous amount of luggage the final few feet. I want to shout, "we're not here for just a vacation!" Through the carcinogenic fog (I can feel the cancer cells multiplying within my lungs) I spot fellow PC friends Megan and Steph---I haven't seen them since the chaos began at 5am. They look how I feel---overwhelmed, cranky, and ticked that PC didn't think this through a bit better.
6:20: A fellow friend, Kristen S., emerges from the haze with her counterpart, Jeff (PC training director) and Yohannis (our favorite PC driver). They have yet to find her metal box, but at least she has found us.
6:25: All of a sudden an angry mob forms in front of us---people wanting tickets and 1 lone man selling the tickets. PC instructed us to always move in the opposite direction of a mob, but we received no instruction as to what to do when you find yourself in the center of the fray. You can feel the tension in the air. Ticket man flees on a dead run…mob follows close on his heels…I barely clear out of the way. As they pass, I can see Christen S.'s counterpart in the middle of the mob. I sure hope that he is victorious and returns with tickets!
6:40: Success….we have tickets for all 6 of us. What a relief!
7:15: After some fierce bargaining our luggage (including 3 heavy metal boxes) is transported to the top of the bus by a man with phenomenal strength and balance. He manages to balance the luggage on his upper back and neck. I can't look! Despite the constant roar of the bus yard, I hear his cervical spine crying out in pain or maybe that is my spine with sympathy pains.
7:30: We board the bus and find that our counterparts have saved us seats. I quickly discover that I'm not meant to live in Ethiopia—my legs are way too long. This is not going to be fun.
7:31: Man boards bus selling "soft" (toilet paper) and gum. I'm thinking deodorant and a sedative would be more appropriate.
7:35: The crowd is getting restless. It appears as if the ticket man was running a side business and has "overcharged" everyone. The ticket reflects a cost of 35birr, but he charged 50birr. People begin to chant "mels" (change) while angrily waving their ticket in the air. The ticketman begins yelling back and once again tensions rise. In the midst of this wave of chaos, man again boards bus selling "soft" and gum…he is oblivious and merely weaves his way through the uprising that is in process. Ticket man finally realizes that he is greatly outnumbered and acquiesces. Now we begin the painstaking process of refunding 15birr to all 62 passengers. I'm already thinking "are we there yet?" but we've yet to pull out of the station!
7:55: Bus fires up and we begin to pull out of the station. I want to stand and cheer, but I can't get my knees unwedged.
7:56: Bus stops—my celebration has begun too quickly. People have yet to purchase their morning newspaper. Crisis!! Crisis averted as man boards bus selling the morning paper.
7:58: Bus moves as the door shuts. Woops…wait…one last business transaction takes place as birr is passed through the window in exchange for breadsticks. Good grief..are we ever going to get there??? Oh…the breadsticks are for us. Our counterparts have been so good to us. I need to shut-up and eat.
