Ferenge Addis Blog

Happy Holiday here, too: Downfall of the Derg Day

Happy Memorial Day to my US readers. It's a holiday here, too.

For the non-US readers, today is Memorial Day stateside. It's a day to remember the fallen soldiers who defended us in our various wars, from the revolutionary war to the present.

For non-Ethiopian readers, today celebrates the downfall of the Derg regime. The Derg was the military government that ousted Haile Selasie in 1974. It quickly formed strong ties with the Soviet Union, wanting military aid for its conflicts with Somalia and others. By the accounts of my co-workers and others I talk to here, and by written histories that I've read, the Derg was a highly repressive regime, resorting to terror and circumvention of due process to quash it's political opponents. One co-worker was very vivid in his descriptions of dead bodies in the gutters as he made his way to high school. The Derg became more and more repressive and was finally ousted through military means by the current ruling party as the Soviet Union crumbled along with its military support of the Derg. That happened in 1991 on this date. Hence we celebrate the day by... not working. (At least most of us. I have a day-long meeting. Harumph.)

Spending on Health

I attended a conference yesterday and during the presentations I picked up some interesting statistics. Because I love this fun-with-numbers stuff, I thought I'd pass them along:

Per-capita spending on health per year:
• World Health Organization (WHO) recommendation: $34
• Sub-Saharan Africa average: $13
• Ethiopia spending: $7
• Ethiopia spending, amount from Government of Ethiopia: $2
• (U.K.: $192)
• (USA: $5,267)

Hospital beds per 1000 people:
• WHO Recommendations: 0.33
• Ethiopia: 0.1
• (USA: 3.6)
• (Switzerland: 18.3)

Discuss.

Biking with the Ethiopians

On Sunday mornings when the Germans aren't riding, I head out on my own. If I get out early, traffic is fairly light, with most people in church or heading there. After a hectic work week I don't mind the solitude. I can make it up the "shallow" side of Entoto with the gears on my road bike (30x25 for you gearheads), and being a roadie at heart, I frequently do that. Last Sunday when I was getting ready to make my right turn on Churchill Rd. and head up through the Piazza section of downtown, I spied four riders ahead. I could tell by their technique that they weren't the transportation riders that I usually see. I pushed a little bit and when they got slowed down by a light for a few seconds I managed to catch. As I pulled alongside I could tell I was right: they had on real bike shorts, two had jerseys, and one even had bike shoes and a helmet of sorts. They were riding mountain bikes with slick tires. They were riding a little bit faster than I might have by myself, but I was happy to have the company of other riders so made the effort.

They spoke about as much English as I do Amharic (20 words) so the conversation was limited. Still, it was pretty much like it would have been if I'd met a group of four riders out on White Cross Rd. in Orange County (NC). I pointed at one of the bikes: "nice bike." He smiled and replied: "Ethiopian." He pointed at my bike and asked a question in Amharic. I guessed and replied "USA: Boston." He seemed satisfied with that. Another asked "you go?" I replied "Entoto, enteh (you)?" He nodded and smiled. A third pointed at my bike and asked "how much this bike?" In an uncharacteristic display of thoughtfulness I considered whether it was a kind or wise thing to talk about having a bike that is worth many times the average annual wage, and fibbed "same" pointing at his bike.

Proving that fitness far outweighs equipment, they had to wait for me a couple of times as we headed out of town up the Gojjam Rd towards Entoto. Despite my protestations and attempts to wave them on, they waited and made it seem like no big deal. Finally, as the air got cooler and the Eucalyptus smell filled the air, they pulled away, leaving me to my wheezing rhythmic labor of turning over that tiny gear again and again, inching towards the top. There, where the girls sell water from jury-rigged tables made from discarded planks, the four riders were laughing and filling water bottles. I pulled up, red-faced and sweaty and one clapped me on the back while smiling and saying something that sounded congratulatory.

They asked "you go?" and I pointed back down towards Piazza. They laughed and pointed up the Gojjam Rd further still. "Have a good ride."

About Exercising on Purpose

On my second trip to Ghana, flights from Tamale, where I was working in the north, to Accra, where I got my flight to London, were eventually cancelled when the plane that shuttled between the two cities twice a day crashed. So we made the 12 hour drive. Along the way we stopped for petrol at a Shell station and got some drinks and snacks. I was lamenting the lack of Coke Light (Diet Coke). Our driver said "Mr. Marc, the problem in Ghana is not to have too many calories, but too few."

Living in a developing country (whatever that is) also points out that exercising for health is a rich-country phenomenon. In a place where getting enough to eat is a problem for some portion of the population, exercising to maintain your health or keep your weight down is a rich-guy pastime. In many parts of Ethiopia women do a daily workout that consists of carrying jerry-cans of water several kilometers. No extra exercise is needed. In the mornings when I walk the dog I see very few people walking or jogging unless they're late for a bus. The few joggers are almost all foreigners. The walkers, both locals and Ferenge, all wear expensive warm-up gear and $100 sneakers.

So what's an in-withdrawal cyclist to do? Sunday mornings at 7:00 is about the only time it's safe to be out on a bicycle, and then only in a group, so riding in the morning is out. I could join the runners in Bole if my knee would put up with it, but it won't. So, we've resorted to the gym, the one at the Hilton. It has the advantage of being replete with in-repair equipment, being well-staffed with knowledgeable and friendly employees, and having a nice mix of Ethiopians, resident Ferenges, and hotel guests. Besides, we can use the pool and Jane loves the pool. Still, it's not something we talk about much: it marks us as part of the effete Bole crowd.

Visit to a Health Post

The village Health Post is the lowest-level health facility in Ethiopia. The building is typically a three-room cinder block affair on a concrete slab. Each room has a metal door and a window with a metal shutter and no glass. There may or may not be running water. There probably isn't electricity. There is a pit latrine out back, if that. The Health Post is staffed by two-three Health Extension Workers, the lowest-level health professional in the public service in Ethiopia. Each Health Extension Worker (HEW)receives one year of training beyond 10th grade. Each HEW is responsible for several households, and spends most of her time (they're all women) doing home visits.

HEWs provide health education and preventive care. Preventive care includes immunizations of some kinds as well as family planning of some kinds (pills and condoms). Mostly HEWs educate people on things like sanitation, and refer them to the Health Centers if they need curative services.

I recently visited two Health Posts. Each sat at the end of a long, bumpy, two-track road and required some walking after the road ended. At one of the health posts there was quite a crowd. A nurse was visiting and doing HIV testing for pregnant mothers. The mothers were anxious to know their HIV status, so they could take measures to prevent spreading it to their babies, if they were, in fact, infected. There were 62 pregnant women there, and 17 of their husbands, too. In the area we visited, the population is almost entirely strict Orthodox Christian. This is reflected in some of the counseling sessions that take place. When asked about his visit, one of the farmers said "well, of course we could not have contracted HIV from sexual activity, but we work with many sharp implements on the farm and in the kitchen. We may have contracted something by accident in this way."

"Sorry, its finished"

Here's another regular happening in Ethiopia that puts a fine point on how spoiled we are in the US with all our stuff.

Think of something you get at the grocery store every week. It's always in your cupboard or 'fridge. Actually think of something. Got it?

Now imagine you go to the store and they say "it's finished" which means "we're out." Not out of your favorite brand, or the size you want: they just don't have any of it at all. And none of the other stores do either. It's just gone from the city for a while, maybe for a few days, maybe for a few weeks. This never happens, right?

The first few times this happened here I got all indignant in my spoiled-American way. I'm sure the clerks were laughing at my histrionics. Now I'm used to it. Luckily Jane is flexible and doesn't care a bit about there being no Cheerios.

My 15 minutes

Everyone open up a browser and go to the google search page. Type "ferenge" in the search box and press [Enter]. Go ahead. I'll wait.

This is my 15 minutes of internet fame.

Relics

While driving from Bahir Dar to Bure, we passed relics of the Derg war. (The war that ousted the Communist Mengistu regime in 1991 and put Meles in power.) One sees these in every region of the country. My colleagues say they are left there as a reminder of what the current regime has done for the people of Ethiopia. I think as a young boy these would have been the coolest things ever to play on. (Do kids still play army or is it non-PC in the developed world now?)

Happy Patriot's Day

Today's National holiday here in Ethiopia is Patriots' Day. It is to commemorate the patriot fighters who helped liberate Ethiopia from Italian occupation in 1941.

Today is Vesak

And while we're on the subject of holidays, today is Vesak, the most important holiday of the Buddhist calendar.

If you're interested, get more info about Vesak here or here.