...:::Brunei Trans Africa:::...

Still Sunday 5-08-07

Ethiopia

Shy Geltsa welcomes you in Ethiopia

     Ethiopia, with an area of over 1 mio.sq km, almost 200 times bigger than our Brunei. With exception of a few years it was never
   colonized. Poor in material terms, Ethiopia has the longest archeological record on our planet. In this ever green mountainous land of
   plenty rain, coffee is grown, the best in the world, they claim. Here walked also   "Lucy" a hominoid woman, 3 mio. years earlier.
   According to legend the first kingdom was founded by King Angabo, his daughter being the queen of Sheba. She went to Israel and
   met King Solomon around 1000 B.C. It is said, he tricky her to sleep with him.
   Returned to Ethiopia, she conceived a boy, named Balnalehkem. He asked for his father and the queen revealed, that he was
   wise Solomon's boy. He wanted to meet the father, took along a ring Solomon gave his Mom and went back to Gaza. But did not like
   it and was soon longing for home. Solomon provided 12 strong men to accompany him, but they, knowing to leave for good,
   stole the arc of covenant, hide it and left a replica behind.. (arc of covenant, where Moses (Musa) kept the stone plates with gods
   commands) It is said since then, the ark of covenants rest in a church in Axum. No one is allowed to see it. But naturally such a claim
   has counterclaims and not many believe that it is actually there.

   In the 4th century, Christianity was brought to Ethiopia and after Prophet Mohammed dead p.b.o.h., 632 A.D. Islam spread to Ethiopia
   too. Kingdoms and rulers rose over the centuries, clinging to power as long as they could, were forcefully removed by newcomers in
   uprisings and rebellions, then came the Italians in 1936 for 5 years until they were thrown out and Ethiopia became independent.
   Haile Selassi was the last of the feudal ruler, but he run into guerilla warfare trouble in 1962, when he tried to annex Eritrea. Churches
   and Nobility had over time amassed the countries wealth, leaving landless peasants to search for their daily food together with
   donkeys in garbage humps, famine rose and so the students; workers strike. In an army revolt Haile Selassi was arrested
   and locked away. He died several month later in his palace. Mengistu, the leader of the Military officers now in charge of the nation,
   throw out the "capitalist Americans working for Wall street" and called "Socialist Russians" in. When Somalis marched into a
   disputed land area to reclaim it, young Cuban sugarcane farmers rushed to help, the Castro Ethiopian intervention
   army, to shoot and kill until the Somalis were out of what is claimed to be Ethiopia. It is worth to mention, Mengistu fight famine with
   population control. Conscription (army service) was compulsory for every male up to the 70 years. And when the battlefront officer
   commanded the "Ataaaaaack!" raising his arm, the soldier, son of 18 year, could run along his father of 36, the grandfather of 54 and
   grand grand father of 70 years age. The late one on self-made crunches to keep up with the pace or he was pushed along in the
   proven military fighting vehicle; That is the donkey carriage.
   Dear reader do not laugh please, we are talking here of serious warfare!

"Russian help" of those days linger along the countryside

      Mengistu had to flee in 1991 leaving overwhelming problems for a new transitional government. Now Ethiopia has parliament and a
   Prime Minister. Today the population is estimated at around 60 million. Addis Ababa has itself about 5 mio. inhabitants. The land has
   abundance of fertile soil. No on need to hunger if one owns and work a field. 2000 - 3000 m high in average, the climate is pleasant, or
   even cold, at16- 28 degree Centigrade, depending where you are.

Coming from the Kenyan border, now driving on the right side of the road it was rather strange but soon we got used to it. We could
cruise fast in the afternoon sun and at dawn we reached a town, Yabello, about 100 km north. It was after 13 hours driving.

Southern Ethiopia Public Busses and an empty, good road

     About 5 km outside town, there was the signboard of a Motel and we checked in. On an expedition, every member has particular
   functions. Norhayati is just, without exaggeration, the best organizer one can wish. Whenever there are minutes available, she will
   clean up and wash the cloth, to keep the Kutu out and the tidiness in. Hotel rooms become "cloth drying chambers'. our fresh laundry
   tingling between trees on the cloth line in the morning breeze. Such cleanness motivated others to look after themselves, and so, one
   morning hung two African male underwear next by, in such a freshness" that we had use a car pliers to take them off We needed our
   string. Putting them on ground, they stood themselves as if made from iron. The owner likely thought, the wind will do the cleaning
   job.....

   JAMBO is organized thanks to her. She has foresight and know what has to be done. It is good to travel with such an companion.
   If you have to sleep in a "hotel" out somewhere, there are usually two worries . No.1 Safety of the vehicle for which we hire a
   watchman. and No. 2, ticks and flees in the beds. But help is always at hand. The insecticide tin for a 10 seconds, make flee jump in
   their widest hop ever to safe their life. Either into the mattress or under the carpet, which is a cozy place as it has not been cleaned
   since the days it was made. One never goes bare feet and has their own comforter blankets to sleep on, without touching anything on
   the bed.

Our overnight stay Solid iron doors to the shower room

   But what is this? The light switch for the room was installed outside.
   If you go to bed, sneak out in your night garment to switch it off.       Flushing the toilet, you had to lift the basin cover too.

The plug ins are damaged or forgotten but we have a nonfunctioning TV

Cloth Dryer A good sleep after an attack with insect killer

Monday 6-8-07

Norhayati did not like to walk, because of a bad sleep. We had to hire a wheel barrow to transport her to the car. 10 birr the young
man charged. A wheel is made from iron. On the picture you see already it leaning sideward.

The boy blows the cheeks. "Heavy load!"

   Next morning we filled the car up, engaged the all wheel drive and went West. Oh, all our enthusiast of the 4 W/D Association of
   Brunei, you would like to be here. Especially Patron Pengiran Salleh Ab Rahman and Sheik Abbas. This is here plain jeep country
   and sometime your strong machine should become a boat too. The countryside views are marvelous, the roads are bad and the
   people on it, plenty. Not only people, but goats, cows donkeys pulling carriage with one donkey power ( if it is a horse it would be one
   horse - power) and turning just in front of you, to cross the road. Good brakes are needed. The road are used by everyone. And what
   you think: " where can you drive faster through such an obstacles? At the width of an open land or in the crowded village, where the
   road traffic passes right on the doorsteps?" "In the village" you say. Correct! You can go faster!

   The village livestock is road trained. If you blow horn a goat stand still until you have passed. They had to learn how to behave with
   all the roaming lorries and bus monsters around. Naturally, those who did not learn were soon emergency slaughter victims. First cut
   into lamb chops then roasted and finally served on a plate for a hungry mans belly. We confess two of those country goats, although
   driving slowly went under the bumper, they just jump into the car too late to break. So when Harun had a lamb veal today he bend
   over the plate asking: "Sorry, but is it you I run down yesterday? If yes please waggle your meat. I would refrain from eating you"
   There is something else: Never stop on such an incident. The villagers will clean you of all you have because the goat will: "at least
   still live 50 years and give 3000 liter milk for 1500 kg Feta, the goat cheese, and you made a loss to the farmer of minimum- let say,
   US$ 2000.-" You have to believe what they insist on. The peacemaker from Russia, the Kalashnikov. is for sure in one of the huts,
   ready to enforce the claims.

   Everyone knows the Wild West. But hardly you hear about the Ethiopian South Wild West, around the OMO valley .Only to be
   reached over mountain passes up to 2800m, on roads now under construction.13 hours we drove into a territory long forgotten, in the
   triangular of Ethiopia, Sudan and Kenya. Why, you may wonder one goes into this remote piece of Africa? Because of the tribes.
   MURSI lip-plate women and others.

We knew that on our route we came close to the BORANA tribe and Harun found by chance an aluminum plate, to make a
protective skirt out of it.

                                   Harun taking safety precaution                                     BORANA naked man
                                                                                                 (Because of Ladies, we cannot show more)

Oh man, be careful with the BORANA! I'm serious! "Why?" you ask.

   The BORANA tribes men are accustomed to cut from a defeated enemy testicles and penis away, as proof of their manhood. Only
   with this trophy the BORANA man is allowed to marry a woman. If you meet an outgrown African here, with a a boy's voice then be
   rest assured he was the looser in such a fight, He may have become an applicant for a Harems position or in the Vienna chorus quire.
   Therefore, my hubby took no chances!

And in such a territory led us JAMBO! Crawling up the mountain, passing small villages, down again crossing rivers where crocs
bath in the sun.

Beautiful Ethiopian Landscape... ...and relaxed crocs on the riverbank

   Half way to Jinka village our destination, lies Konso. It was market day, we stopped and we were immediately surrounded by people
   "You have authority to film?" A guy asked. Others just stood and starred. Waiting what something might happen to satisfy their
   curiosity.

JAMBO in Konso A Salt seller

The journey itself was adventure, not wanted to be missed.

"No money no honey" pardon, we mean "photo" best greetings to Brunei

The people are running from camera unless off course cash is at hand.

The OMO valley check the water depth first

and cross then the river begging is custom ( all kids beg...)

Driving carefully, one does not know how deep JAMBO sinks

Agriculture is done in the same way as 1000 years ago, No modernization took place up here in the mountains.

Two cows, a whip, a plow and one furrow at the time. That is how the land is farmed.

After hours we passed trough the territory where they pack their dead up in the trees. We are not sure which tribe. it is. Maybe the
HAMER.

On the way to Jinka, coffins in the trees

   It was night when we reached Jinka. We checked into a campground, had a little Mee soup and went to sleep in Hotel de la JAMBO.
   The sanitary installations were very bad; yet tourists were forced to use them. As they had no other choice. They are driven down
   from Addis Ababa, a 700 km away, but got due to overbooking, no hotel room. They did sleep in tents next by. If the culture and
   civilization is measured - as some claim- on the cleanness of the sanitary installations, then dear reader, we had been in the stone
   age.

Tuesday 7-8-07

   It was a promising day ahead. The breakfast was fine and hot coffee cheered the spirits up.


                   A nice morning we are eager to look "overthehorizon.net"                 The way to the MURSI

     We hired a guy, paid our fees and went into the National park. This one is unique. Why? Because the Natives living around are
     hunting the animals. Guns are plenty. Animals?-none! Paying 260 birr, that is almost B$ 50.- we were lucky to see the following:
     A few "dick-dick", the shy mouse deer so small they can easy hide, two group of guinea fowl, one bush rat and
    20 Spanish tourist at the MURSI village."
    No one comes for such an empty park. Only the MURSI they want to see."
    A kilometer before the village we met some girls and shot those pictures.

Is she a beauty! A BUME and a Brunei girl

     Mursi girls place clay plates into the lower lip. When about 15 years old, the girls have the lip pierced and it is over time gradually
    widen. The Mursi woman owns a hut, made from branches and grass in the form of a beehive, Men don't. They sleep alternate with
    one of their several wives. They are cattle breeders and proud owners of a herd. The OMO valley is fertile ground, grass grows in
    abundance and cattle have fodder right here. No need to intrude into another tribes territory, which would erupt into deadly fights.

A KARO tribes "Mama" The left bosom needs a slight cosmetic surgery

    The white paint was originally used to intimidate their enemies when at war. Now, we think they paint the body for a photo as at our
    visit was peace around. And if you meet a man with scars on the arm, perhaps several, well he is from the BUME tribe. Be very
    friendly, smile always. Every scar mark is a dead enemy.
    Driving further we had soon to stop. A rope was spanned over the dirt track.

   "Why this rope?" Our guide said we need security and this cost Birr 60.- about B$ 12.-. we declined to argue as the security man had
    the Kalashnikov at hand. So we let him climb up the roof rack and drove on. 300 m further already was the parking lot, with some
   vehicles and the Spaniards.

We were not out of the car yet, a man approached. "You cannot photo here!" " What?" "You cannot photo here unless you pay
Birr 50.- then you are free to walk with your camera." Behind him was the Kalashnikov , so we paid.

The Enforcer of unjustified money demands Norhayati wonders how she eat soup

Plenty tourists, plenty money, me fly to Brunei...

The Spaniards in the back ground... .... and the locals

The HAMER tribes people are well build and use animal skin to cover part of the body, more as decoration than out of shame

She did not like the tip MURSI girl with a lip plate made from wood

     The girl above left picture was smart. She show up first without paint in the face and got 2 birr; gone she was. A different girl
   approached me with white chalk in the face. That picture I did not have yet, so I photo her and gave 5 birr, gone she was. And latter I
   photo again a girl, white in the face but now curler in the hair. When I click the camera I realize only it was the same girl coming 3
   times for money. I was like in a theater. I did no want to pay again. She called immediately the Kalashnikov peacemaker. "Grrrr"
   another 5 birr disappeared in her hand.

a KARO beauty; notice the shaved hair

   There were tragic moments in-between. I almost lost my hubby, as you can see. His face was red for two reasons: first gasping
   for air and second, his cheek was on the booby of that girl; that made my "Innocenti" to flush! She was not happy with the
   money and squeezed another 10.-birr out of him.

                                                                                                                Women the weaker sex?

   The boy is one of many, surrounding the car before. I had bonbons, so I try to share them equally . Two for each. Immediately
   there was a fight to get the most. He got two but stretched his hand again. "You got already two" But he held only one and hide the
   other in his mouth. I squeezed the cheeks then only I had my proof. Then he smile for the picture.
   Dear reader do not envy us. That was hard work there. No picture you see was easy. You pay too little, they shout and scream.
   A girl started to hit Harun in anger when he refused to give her money as she insisted he photo her, which was not the case.

   The Kalashnikov man was close by, as always. And when there was another quarrel for unjustified demands, he came and knocked
   with his finger impatiently on the barrel, looking seriously. " What to do?" One cannot argue, therefore out of the pocket with the cash!
   No, not coins, no one want that. Banknote from 10 birr up (B$2.-) This village likes money too much! They make a day at least a
   hundred dollars. Moreover we had to be extremely careful with our items, double locking the car as in KARO language the word "thief"
   does not exist. The young are encouraged to pilfer and get only a smack from Mama when they are caught. Not for stealing, but being
   stupid enough to get caught.

Within an hour we left that place and returned for another night to Jinka camping.

Wednesday 8-8-07

   Before 7:00 am we were on route over the mountains again and on our long way towards home. A group of village women from the
   tribe of BUME stopped us.

                                                                        See how the girls beautify themselves with strings of pearls

   The BUME women as you see here, have their hair either shaved completely or on the forehead only. BUME
   are cattle breeders with little field work or other agriculture activities. And what about the men? Well, they were hard to find. Maybe
   because they are not often photographed, or were commanded to stay home in the hut.

   In the picture these are HAMER girls. they decorate themselves with pearls and shells, wearing their hair in strings, just
   beautiful.
   It was again a long day until ARBA MINCH town. The road is not only used by motoring traffic ,but also by cattle, goats and people,
   mostly children. They never had such a leveled and smooth place. We reached ARBA MINCH by evening and checked into the hotel
   to write this long overdue story. The climate was pleasant as the town lies 1600 m high.

The new uncompleted road to town ARBA MINCH

Thursday 9-8-07

Good morning in a hotel bed. It was unusual, but well deserved.

   We decided to stay two nights as we use the day to write and fix some minor problems on JAMBO. The spring bushings had to be
   replaced again. we did it in a workshop. Unfortunately the owner cheats. He sold us one for Birr 35.-. Harun bought later a set for 15birr,
   and went back to the garage. "These are not the same" he said.

3 man for 2 hours what Harun did in Arusha alone in half the time

View from our room Norhayati is busy again

   To reach the tribes and get out safely again, it cost two goat their life, as they jumped in front of the car, and for hundreds of begging
   children chasing the passing JUMBO, the hope of a few birr. Would we have given what they want we would be broke by now, Kids
   developed different begging technique - some performing, while you approach them. in front of the tourist car, acrobatic hops on one
   leg, or imitate a break-dance for 10 second then stop , stretch the hand and shout "YU YU,birr"

   They have shown what they can do, now you must pay! Although you never asked for their performance in the first place.
   Others hop around like epileptics. Every shrink (psychiatrists) would send them to the crazy house. A naked two year old boy
   picked a stone to throw it to the car. We had to stop. Harun open the door, his courage dropped with the stone and the boy run
   back to mamas bosom, slipped and landed in the mud. Now the concert was on and crying he disappeared between the huts to find
   comfort and security.

Kids in contortion for "Birr" including the cattle herder in the background

Friday 10-8-07

   We left ARBA MINCH in fresh strength, after fixing JAMBO. Very early we went a gravel road along the shoreline of Lake Abayaa
   road which should after about 230km, join the North South main connection.   45 km later, all traffic stop. Lots of lorries and busses.
   The road is flooded on two sections, heavy rains in the Peregosa mountain, in the West. "How long it will take until we could go?"
   "Maybe 5 hours, maybe 5 days" .

The impassable situation The first of two flooding

     Since our map did show another dirt road up into the highlands, we decided to try it. The policeman confirmed, "yes the road is
   open and we could bypass the troubles here". We just have to climb until 2600 m. In good mood we crawl the gravel road up, reaching
   one hour later flat terrain and the first village of the mountain tribe, the Dorze. They are hard working people and good cotton waver as
   you can see.

cotton waving with a hand spindle on the roadside

Products of the village The Dorze women

She carries cow dung to the local market. It is used as fertilizer He works the field by hand tool

Terrace fields in the Highlands In the fog was our by bass road, but we had to turn around

   To cut the story short, we had been mislead, by the police and several other people we asked. The road is there yes, but the bridge
   has been washed away one year ago. It was the fodder carrying women in the fog picture which indicated lastly there is no way
   further. The road had no tires mark either. We turned around and drove back to Konso and out to the main road to start all over again,
   going North. After darkness we check into a cheap hotel, a night US$ 6.- .Our survival system was applied: Insect spray, and do
   not touch anything. Falling into bed for a deserved sleep after 14 hours driving on African bush road, it was cold and raining.

Saturday 11-8- 07

Early we were up and out. The night watch earned another dollar washing our car while we went into the coffee room, where a boy
just came in, on his head the hotel ration of fresh bred. Awaiting coffee we were in good spirit.

   When he sat down to rest, Harun took a few banknotes from the wallet stuffed them in one of his fist, crossed the arms behind the
   back and ask the boy:" Where is he money?" He tipped rightly and got therefore a few banknotes, about B$ 1.- . He was so happy,
   one could see   it on his body language. He smiled to himself, turning the notes in his dirty fingers over and over. Another soft drink for
   him followed, before we left.

I thought: "well done"

The boy and the night watch man

     It was morning and we drove towards Addis Ababa, passing village after village. Slowly the people crawled out of the huts
   and houses. Here a girl trying to bring some order into the "wool" of another one, further down, youngsters already selling to passing
   motorists and the ever present "YUYU (you, you) give me money".

decorative house facades

Security is of high concern palisade fence

Some of the houses are colorful decorated as you see on the pictures, but it is always risky to build them close to the road as
accident are common.

A common sight in Africa Towards Addis Ababa

Then we passed traditional build houses and all were, more or less heavy under smoke. First we thought they make charcoal.
But then they were so many, we decided to stop and ask.

"under fire?" Only with this type of comb one can master the wool

No it was not fire, nor charcoal. It was the breakfast preparation, a hot soup with wet firewood. Harun had already the fire extinguisher
taken from the car but there was no need.

a truly traditional house on our route and the evergreen highlands, we are 2000m up

   The remaining 150 km along flat highland and lakes were without events. The country is worked on, fruits are offered on the roadside,
   Addis Ababa was coming close but did greet us with rain. The weather was very cold. "That was not nice of you Addis, after such a
   long journey" we thought,but, we could load the story, as there was internet.

Addis, driving in the rain..... The camel taxi

We close today with the girls face and a pair of feet. Will heirs look like them in 30 years?
What does she think this moment? Is she sad? Angry with life and providence? Does she know what that is?

One day, much later the feet as in the picture will have carried her through life. But what will be her life? Good and happy? Or will
she be worn out at early age? Will all her future be as we read on a wall in South Africa? The angry words:

STRUGGLE CONTINUES

     Distinguished reader, we apologize for the delayed report; but you have to know after Tanzania, internet was impossible to come by.
   Through south Kenya we rushed, and North is Wild West .So is Southern Ethiopia. They switch the light off by two wet finger
   (oil lamp ) if they have the money for one. Otherwise it is a small wood fire only. And an internet connection is as far away as honesty
   in this part of the world

   The car is, wherever we stop, surrounded by people, curious and respectful. Even the well traveled white tourist on holiday in Ethiopia;
   and Norhayati is in her element. She is the best tourism ambassador for Brunei, one can think off.   She just loves it to tell about the
   friendly, evergreen and peaceful home. Thank you for patronizing and keep the fingers crossed please. We think a lot of you all,
   especially those who have so much done or given. We will not let you down.

Sunday 12-8-07

     We left Addis and over the highland of Ethiopia, heading since morning towards the North West and the border of Sudan.
   The road is tarred and. new, Fine driving, yet here are always animals on it, and then the villages. Everyone realizes it is better to
   walk on dry road than in the adjacent mud. Villages, one after the other. There is always somewhere market day,an important event
   to exchange goods or sell products. So, for miles the people move along the road to or from that place. The poorer people carry the
   "merchandise" on the head or on the back, the "better off" ones own use a carriage, a flat wood platform over two old car tiers pulled
   by 1 donkey power. That multiplies the transport load and profit. No wonder that the transport business is flourishing in such a village.
   The donkey eats what is right available and what comes out of him is used as fertilizer. What is a truck in comparism? Polluting the
   air and costing money for fuel.

the poorer Ethiopian The "donkey power" transport company

Line up. kerosene has arrived hustle and bustle in the market.

You, dear reader have meanwhile realized that Ethiopians do not count to the rich nations of Africa. in fact Ethiopian travelers are
suspect to foreign immigration officials, as we red in the Fortune newspaper, where one complained under the header:

"Kenya airways ticket to Nairobi prison!"

When arriving in Nairobi, I and other Ethiopian was called out by Immigration Kenya, accused "That you came only to beg in the
streets" and I was with all others locked away in a room for 3 days and then send back. Such is our image on the continent.

He was very upset.

   But what a traveler passing through ,does not understand is: That the Ethiopians highlands are fertile with black nutritious soil, and
   lots of rain, a climate to grow almost anything. Yet, one see in mornings everywhere groups of young men, bare feet in shabby , dirty
   dress, standing on the roadsides, obviously nothing to do. This country could make the population rich with agriculture. Maybe
   landownership has to undergo scrutiny. If agriculture tractors with implements are used, where today one man work's a piece of land,
   and literarily herds of cattle counted by the hundreds, overgraze the best plantation soil, if fruit trees are planted, maybe oil palm and
   rubber, commercial timber ,corn, maize, if all is planned without sidekicks or friends preferences, then this beautiful country becomes
   a bread basket and would export then to North Africa, where desert prevails.

The highlands are a breadbasket this is part of the rift valley

Villagers try to improve the condition, by selling self-made goods on the roadside. That is a start to better life.

they make mats she sells snaps: "is important for you"

        But in general, everyone struggles along and try to get through life as best as possible.
   Traveling further northwards, somewhere in the afternoon we came to a roadblock, no traffic was moving either way. The bridge was
   under repair, therefore the road was closed, and the traffic diverted to an old crossing, with a rather steep slope up. Ethiopian trucks
   make it normally, but here the first one broke down half way up. another tanker was coming, trying his luck. He reached the first one
   and - broke down too.   Now the road was completely blocked. No problem as there is the direct route through the riverbed. Old trucks
   with noisy engines and a worn out clutch. piled up on both sides. People standing and thinking: "What to do?"

We looked and found a small side pass over gravel and stones, hop, hop, and were through. Heaven knows how long it would have
taken the others. But then again, time means little in Ethiopia.

under repair two tanker broke down blocking the road

The third way you can see the smoke from the lorry trying The Tow trucks misfortune

    Accident are quiet frequent due to bad equipment but also to negligence. This one on the right is special. The recovery truck was
    called to bring the accident lorry back home. But an "evils spirit" just took the steering out of the drivers hands and "bum" he hit one
    of the few trees. Now they called another tow truck. to hook the tow truck and then the accident lorry,

Our journey went on, down from the highland through the rift valley to climb up the other side again. Heavy rains flooded the road.
But we had to move; A boy helped us by walking ahead, therefore we knew where the road was.

another hold up people looking at JAMBO

     It was dark when we checked into a hotel somewhere on the road, the receptionist said smiling, "US$ 50.- you pay or no sleep here."
   It was the only hotel in town. If you are a lover of animals, you would not put your pet there. It was a dirt hole. God knows why these
   people are not clean.

Monday 13-8-07

     By 7 am we were on the move. over these fertile highland. Since the hotel price was extortion, we had to change some money and
   Harun went into a village bank.
   All bank personnel wear black trouser and tie, that is the official bank uniform, indicating how serious they take the "monkey",
   pardon, money business. No Female among them.
   The only woman was the cleaning lady with a rag in hand on the windows.   "Good day" Harun in dirty shorts and T-shirt not looking
   that trustworthy, went humble to the counter, lifting his hut obediently something like a Bangladeshi farmer applying for a micro credit
   to buy two goats. "Yes?"   The bank man in black trouser looked down on Harun.

   " I would like," he cleared his throat: " can I change in your fine bank US$ 100.- Sir ? "
   "Do you have an address? the counterman asked.
   "No, very sorry we are on transit, you can see the car outside"
    The Bank clerk turned to an officer behind another table : "He want to change and has no even an address!" said he, as if this was a
    great security risk and perhaps a crime in Ethiopia.
    This table man took a long and scrutinizing look: "How much you want to change?"
    "US$ 100.-".
   He turned to another guy who had his Table in 90 degree angle so he could control the room. The boss! "Sir, this foreigner without
   address want to change US$ 100.-."
   He was only 6 m away and must have noticed the conversation as Harun was the only customer.
   Slowly as if from deep concentration, he looked up from the papers: "Yes?"
   " So sorry to trouble you, but we need cash for fuel, that is why I like to change the money" said Harun.
   The boss put on his glasses took a long look and finally nodded his approval. The changing procedure could start:
   He directed Harun to the cashier who scrutinized the banknote with authority of a trusted expert, pulling and tearing on it, before he
   went to a room at the back. "Over." Harun thought. now he comes with cash, but instead, he brought a money tester. After pushing
   some buttons, he slot the banknote into the machine which spit it out on the other side.
"That must be a forgery!" Trying a few times, then he called the second cashier. Meanwhile the security guard
   following the transaction from the entrance door adjusted his gun the Kalashnikov, with a face full of determination to shoot anything
   from cockroach to foreigners (which for him was likely the same) if only asked. Both now manipulated seriously but fruitless. Finally
   the instruction booklet was found, the right button pressed and the machine accepted the banknote as genuine.
   This done, back to the first clerk. "Passport!" Harun gave him the document. Malicious he copied the details including visa
   number into a form .The dollar note and passport went to the man at the back. He compared what the first had written, with the
   passport details, corrected some mistake, signed, and handed the bundle to the boss which after another observing look,
   countersigned.
   Harun was already small like a Kampong mouse. Now the bundle went to the cashier, and finally, cash and passport was returned.
   We looked at the watch: 1 hour and 6 minutes to change of US$100.-

"What is war good for? Absolutely nothing...." goes a song.

But we had fuel money so we were happy. Throughout the day we drove. Once a while, remains of battles were seen
next to the road. Why has no one come yet with a blowtorch and cut the steel up to sell it as scrap?

Rock needle and a thundering fall due to heavy rain

   Here a village help themselves! They carry on the head, fertile. good soil from the riverbank to the roadside and lorries come to
   buy and load.
The road up to Gondar was all asphalt and therefore it was fine driving, In Gondar one is victim again of the hustlers and the "YUYU
   give birr!"
   We had checked into a hotel already and drove to the town center just to look around. Reaching the main roundabout suddenly we had
   accompany.
   A youngster was running next to the door of our car, wanting us to stop and listen to his hotel recommendation. These
   guys get commission. We did not like the idea, as the price will have his extra charge. The guy run with us shouting the hotel name
   and gesticulating the direction. We remained in the round about driving in circle he next to us. In the third round already the hotel
   hustler had lost meanwhile his slipper but, imagined already our cash in his hand,completed with us the fourth round barefoot and
   intended to stick for another ten.
   We decided to let him exercise for the Olympic and curved another two round. He in the same pace with us, but now the face getting
   red as he strained himself.. Until the whistle of the   policeman on the roadside indicated, we had to get out.

the "YUYU" See them coming? Royal castle build by emperor Fasilidas around 1640

   After a visit of the 16th century castle, we returned via the same round about.. Guess who was waiting?
   The guy. Again he run with us! Now we play the game of speed. Slowly accelerating,20, 30, 40 km/h. First he lost his
   slippers then we lost him. Looking at our speedometer, it was over 40 km/h. You would not believe how fast he could move the feet!

   Later, parking the car in the hotel, we went for a short stroll into the market.
   Walking in a foreign town, plenty pedestrian around you, one is rather careful. Watch your pockets and camera, be alert as much as
   you can. Not up 5 minutes have passed we were in a crowd, suddenly someone pulled hard from behind on the shirt of Harun. It was a
   beggar woman, shabby dressed which saw her chance for money." These two rich foreigners!" Determined, not to let the
   easy cash slip, she held Harun at his shirt from behind. His hand hit back, before even looking. The woman carried some
   coins in her hand, which were now flying over the road. She was nagging and screaming. "We, the rich visitors of foreign lands harm
the "poorest of the poor Ethiopian" with our "rude and senseless" action" shouted a English speaking pedestrian. "He wants money too"
said Harun. Heir collection of today's alms was meanwhile scattered over the road.
More people stopped, looking at us, the woman was screaming. Some got already wild eyes. We saw no other choice but picked the
coins between passing vehicles and return them to the beggar. That was not enough.
For the bystanders to see, Harun took from his pocket all loose change he had in there, and gave it demonstratively to the beggar
woman. Then we left quickly as a large crowd had gathered to see what was it all about.

curiosity and the "YU YU" whenever you stop

Tuesday 14 -08-07

   We had left Gondar Early morning heading west towards Sudan. A gravel road for less than 200 km. Watch out at these petrol
   stations. The name is misleading. They do not sell quality fuel but "watered diesel" or mixed with kerosene, just to make more money.
                                                                      Roadside Shell                                                   Tribes people on the way to the market

Seen on the way. A simple way to construct the minaret for the "House of Allah"

our breakfast with a view

     Descending from the highland, we decided to stop for breakfast on the roadside, as there was a gorgeous view over the land. And
   most important, no "YUYU" around. It was still cool although the morning sun was shining.
   Setting chairs and table, cooker on, to enjoy our meal, we felt peace. But, not up to to 5 minutes, and shouts were heard. A group
   of "YUYU" youngsters came running down the road towards us. Harun angrily: "Stop and pack off." It had no effect.
   They came closer.   Again: "Pack off!" they ignored him maybe did not understanding. "Pack off!!!!" Very upset we were indeed. They
   now near our open doors. Our stuff exposed! We remember that a boy tried to tear off our small panoramic mirror while driving.
   Suddenly we hear someone shouting, sharp and strong. A military guy of which we only saw the head, He had his post above
   us, in the bushes, not more that 30 m away. Now they listen, stood still, starring at us." When they came again nearer, suddenly
    "pack" "pack" "pack" 3 shots from a semi automatic gun we heard - it is on our video- the soldier had shot into the air and
   shouted at them again. What then happen was like a 100 meter sprint start.   Never ever we have seen anyone running that fast up
   the road and back where they came from, disappearing behind the first bend 200 m away. "Thank you soldier" Harun waved at
   him. We took a nip of the morning coffee enjoying tranquility and the marvelous view. A bit later, a lorry horn warned far up the road.
   The group, small already like flees. had reached the second serpentine one km away, and was still running.

   It was our happiest moment in Ethiopia.   No wonder they are among the top contender in Olympic Marathon. With the exception of
   two girls and two kids with fashion hairstyle washing the laundry on a mountain spring, nothing happen and we reached Metama the
   border town to Sudan, early noon.

Anfisa 14 years old and cute Hesila 10 years, they never go school

Hairstyles of Ethiopia something for the fashion saloons and Europe's confused youth, the punks

     The custom office is about 40 km before the border, a flat barrack building on a slope. We went to stamp our carnet. A wide
    room, three or four broken tables, two old, dusty computers, a new one with flat screen, still wrapped in plastic, one civilian officer,
    one goat.
    The officer was dozing on a intact table with a bundle of documents on it. We gave him the carnet and with the smile of obedience
    we apologized to disturb his hard work, but "could we ask if he could spare time and chop us out of this beautiful country."

"No documentation for our Income?" "Boss it was the bloody goat"

   He went to another room where maybe the stamp was located and returned after a few minutes. Meanwhile the hungry goat was
   with the head sideward's over the table, chewing one document after the other. Coming back he shouted at her. But it needed a few
   slaps before she consented to leave the cool, breezy office, but not before she tear a paper, from which still the headline was
   readable:    CUSTOM DUTIES INCOME AUGUST 07.

Fertile land close to the border of Sudan A farmer with his cheerful kids, he held them in check

   Thanking him, we left for the last 40 km Ethiopia and reached about one hour later. A few mud houses, a small creek, a bridge over it.
   This side Ethiopia, the other Sudan. Plenty people around and the "YUYU" again, driving slowly along, someone in plain
   cloths shouted outside. Thinking, this is another self-appointed guide wanting money, we ignored him and drove on, searching for the
   immigration building ,crossed the bridge, parked and locked the car, not realizing we were actually already a few meters in Sudan.

   Two guys came running from the back, the one from before and another in plain cloth, maybe the special branch guy. "We are
   IMMIGRATION" took our passports and started to lament: "You have broken the law, you are under arrest." and went with us into a
   run down mud building with some shabby paint on the wall a 100 m uphill in the bush. It was their office.
   No flag, no signpost. Harun now, "Officer, we are deeply sorry if we have offended your laws but it was unintentionally; would you have    an uniform, a flag or a tag, we surely stop.
   " Why did you not halt when I asked you"" the first guy asked. Sorry officer but nothing on you indicated, you are on duty.
   "We are just escaping Gondar's "YUYU", where almost everyone thinks a tourist is a milk cow and therefore we thought you are one
   of them as you had no tag on the shirt. "The situation was grim. Sitting in the bush with these officers which obviously were out for
   money. We had given a reason to demand and perhaps we become the payers for a mobile phone, a new shirt or shoes, if they just
   press enough they may scare us just to surrender some cash.
   We were standing .in a shabby room, no window, only the entrance door allow some light in. Two tables. Then Harun pulled one off:

The officer had taken Harun passport and prepared to enter details into the big book:

   Name;:........
   Occupation: "Journalist" said Harun.
   "How spell?" "JOUR-" then "NA-" and "LIST", so he had it and looked at the word.
   " What is this?"
   Harun: " I write"
   "You write?"
   "Yes I write in newspaper and magazines.
   "Write what?"
   "About our travels, for instance, of your beautiful country, about polite and friendly officers."
   Now he looked up to the ceiling, and was thinking with some difficulty: So, you write all what happen on travel like in Ethiopia?
   "Yes"
   And you? he turned to Norhayati: " I write too"
   Now he scratched his head for some time and finally said:" Moment" With the other guy he went out in the open to discuss what to
   do. Coming back after a while they had a sour smile on the face.

   "Please sit down!"   " I was only kidding with the arrest, but you must omit that was an offence and your fault";
   "Off course officer! it was our oversight."
   Five minutes later we had the exit stamp. Both "officials" were standing at the entrance and waved when we left, feeling lucky to
   escape a writers pen and eventual troubles connected with it. (and if only in heir imagination)
   From the upholstery chair I got 3 tick bites on the left arm. Better we would have remained standing.

High passes in Ethiopia another roadblock; they stop next to each other

The "YUYU,s" all future Olympic marathon medalists

      Finally we were out!
   Ethiopia could be the a breadbasket. "As long as we are called Africans, we are lazy" said the
   Rock Camping manager when we discussed the problem." we only need to stick the seed into he soil and care for, then we do not
   hunger..."
   And he has a point. Off course investment, land reform and machinery must come too. The west with few exception only looks, while
   the Chinese build roads hill up hill down with little cost or even on credit. They build their own future. One day soon here will be
   plantations and Chinese machinery and workers, to export to mainland China where over a billion have to be fed every day. The
   Ethiopians will benefit too. The World bank? In Malawi someone told us, they got another credit from them, not to use for
   purchases no, to pay the interest on a old loan. Accumulating the owing and put the screw on,,,, What are we? humans or the devils
   breed? One gets upset.

Over the bridge we drove into Sudan. And you, heroic reader who came all the way with us, click Sudan now; the adventure continues.