Ferenge Addis Blog

Bono and Geldof making things worse in Africa?

Rockers Bono from U2 and Bob Geldof from... (who did he play for again?) are known for their charity work in Africa. From Live AID, to (product) Red, to slamming world leaders at G8, they're always in the headlines.

Well, at least one African charity leader wishes they would just stop it. In a recent article in NME, Jobs Selasie (is this guy Ethiopian?) says they're making things worse, not better. Money quote:

Jobs Selasie, head of charity African Aid Action, claimed that such campaigns increase corruption and dependency on the continent.

Selasie explained that he believed that the western media had an obsession with political correctness which diverted from what he believes are the real causes of poverty in Africa.

Read the entire article here.

OT: What I know about you

• Your domain name
• Your IP address
• The date and time you visited
• How long you stayed
• How many separate pages you viewed
• Your country and city
• Your operating system
• Your language
• Your browser
• The referring website
• Your entry page
• Your exit page

Scary, isn't it?

Politics: The Boogeyman has a name

Everything I know about Ethiopian politics I learn from reading the papers, Meskelsquare blog, and sometimes the BBC web site (when I have enough bandwidth). That and assorted cab and car drivers.

For those of us who grew up in the US during the cold war, it's a familiar scenario. Back then, everything bad that happened was the fault of the Russians. Everything bad that could possibly happen was a "commie plot" that would come to light eventually (e.g., fluoride in the drinking water as a commie test for poisoning us all).

It's like that here in the papers with Ethiopia and Eritrea. No matter what bad thing happens in one of the countries, it's the fault of the other. When the Islamic Courts Union was acting up in Somalis, the Ethiopian government said they were supplied by the Eritreans. When the tourists were kidnapped in Ogaden, guess who was behind it? Even better, in the Eritrean press guess who is the cause of the dire state of the Eritrean economy? You guessed it: the Ethiopians. Of course as someone who doesn't really know what's going on, I can't say which of these is true and which isn't. But they can't all be true, can they?

If nothing else, it makes for spirited debate. Even the writer of a boring blog meant to keep Mom and Dad up to date about what he had for breakfast can be accused of being a) a tool of the Meles regime, and b) a tool of the Eritrians/Tigrian separatists, all on the same day. Look, if these guys were going to pick a tool, they'd pick a sharper one than this...

Concert review: um, some Ethiopian singers

A friend's roommate was too sick to use her free tickets to a show at the millennium hall last night, so we decided to go after dinner. The tickets listed the singers, but since neither of us read Amharic, we had to trust the photos that this show was more Teddy Afro than Mel Torme. Besides, it was a chance for me to see the Millennium Hall, the big place built in record time by Sheik Al-Hamoudi for the Millennium concert by the Black Eyed Peas. I was interested because from the outside it looked like what we call in Michigan a "pole barn."

Much to my surprise, the inside looked like... a pole barn. I was a giant hollow space with a high, high ceiling and a balcony at the back. There was a concrete floor and square bars scattered around for ordering beer or water. There was once little vendor stand selling those glow-in-the-dark things you see at concerts. The most popular items at this concert, though, were the little glow-in-the-dark crosses, a first for any concert I'd been to.

After figuring out the beverage-buying system (buy a coupon, trade the coupon for beer, thus adding one more job to every purchase) I stood around and gaped at the airplane-hangar-esque enormity of the place. There were probably a couple of thousand people in there, and the place looked empty. Eventually the band came on, a jeans, white T-shirt, and dreadlocks assortment. The show consisted of various singers coming out to play with the band. The longer we stayed, the harder the audience cheered for each successive singer, none of whom I was familiar with. It was a strange experience to be amid such fervent fans when the singers were nobody to me. It was also odd to be in that position while watching the singers strutting and smirking, soaking up the adoration when I didn't get it and at times my reaction was "meh."

In the end there were enough fun, bouncy songs to make the experience enjoyable. And watching the crowd was as much fun. We were the only Ferenges I saw all night, and everyone was 100% friendly to us: saying hello, dancing in a circle with us, nodding and smiling in an encouraging way, probably thinking "oh, is *that* why they call that dance the "white man's overbite?"

Ethiopia on Two Wheels

When I was in the Simien Mountains last April I met a young fellow on a big off-road motorbike. Being an avid motorcyclist myself, I began chatting with him. He was on a dream journey: Cape Town to Holland via motorbike, on the summer before his start at University.

I thought about him as I began reading the BBC special series "Long Way Down" about two fellows who traveled from Scotland to Cape Town, also on motorbikes. Reading their Ethiopian entries is a unique look at Ethio-tourism from a two-wheeled perspective. You can read the Ethiopian entries and see pictures, starting here. (Those of you not in Ethiopia will have enough bandwidth to watch the included videos as well.)

Now censoring radio broadcasts?

Check out yesterday's Meskel Square blog post about the GOE, not content to just block the entire blogspot domain, now jamming Voice of America and BBC shortwave broadcasts. The BBC Monitor reports that the stations are jammed with music and static.

What I can't figure out is why. With the Bush administration expressing its undying love for the current regime here, what could VOA have to say that would be found contrary?

Giving Thanks

Here in Ethiopia, tomorrow (November 22) is just another work day. I'll be at the office, doing... whatever it is I do.

For my Ethiopian readers: US Thanksgiving is celebrated on the last Thursday of each November. It is to commemorate the feast of giving thanks first celebrated by the Pilgrims, early settlers in the US, happy about surviving the previous year, and the bountiful harvest. The Pilgrims survived chiefly due to the help of the Native Americans (Indians), which white Americans later repaid with genocide. No good deed...

These days Thanksgiving is celebrated by extended families gathering to overeat. (Featured highly among the great heaps of food are Turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, thin American beer, cheap white wine, and green beans topped with cream of mushroom soup and dried fried onions. No kidding.) Then everyone staggers into the living room in a gluttonous stupor and watches the Detroit Lions lose to some other team in American football on television. This is sometimes accompanied by bitter family recrimination brought on by extended family members being together and finally having the opportunity to "get something off my chest." Lacking these opportunities I'm left with thinking what I'm thankful for, starting with a reason given in a Thanksgiving prayer that I will never forget:

• by an accident of birth, I started life in a place and time with enough to eat, a safe place to sleep, a chance to be educated, and parents who loved, wanted, and cared for me
• I can live in another culture here in Ethiopia, learn first hand, and be accepted
• I have good and loving friends and family
• my parents are in good health
• my (now four) furballs are healthy and happy companions
• I have time to read, meditate, learn, grow
• I have time to exercise and the medical means to stay well
• I live in a culture of religious and spiritual tolerance
• I have lived a life of pure dumb good luck

Dogs, sheep, and other mammals

Getnet and I were chatting while watching the puppy gamboling about the compound, looking for things to pee on/chew. He said "I think in the US it is different about dogs. They are like a family member, yes?" I admitted that yes, in the US pets were treated like furry children. I didn't get specific about multiple-thousand-dollar knee surgeries, cancer treatments, and dog psychotherapists. I figured the less known about our quirkiness with pets, the better. He said "Here it is very different, especially for female dogs. They are of no use. And they have puppies. Here if there is a female dog, people just put it out." I thought about the hundreds of street dogs I see with their ribs showing, and the several dead dogs by the side of the road on my last trip to Awassa. Then I thought about the overloaded donkeys, and shepherds beating sheep I see every day on my drives around town. Then I thought about the homeless people sleeping in the median on Bole Rd that I passed on my way to work yesterday, huddling barefoot under torn blankets in the 45-degree (F) cold. In a country where life is sometimes hard, it cuts across all species, human and otherwise.

The Lucky Puppy

There is currently an additional quadruped in my compound. L found a tiny 6-week-old female puppy dehydrated and wandering on the median of Bole Rd., sure to get flattened at any moment. She scooped up the doggy and brought her here, promising to find a good home for her. Getnet, my #1 guard, made a nice bed for her in one of Toby's old kennels, and we started giving her lots of water and some food. I called the vet, who makes house calls, and Dr. Dawit agreed to go to the house, check her over, de-worm her and give her vaccinations. I went home at lunch time to see her and tell Getnet the plan. I matter-of-factly said that the "dog doctor" was coming to examine the puppy, give her some vaccinations, and later I would give her a bath and some flea medicine. Getnet got that "you ferenges are so funny" smile on his face and said "I think this puppy is very lucky to come to this house."

See more puppy photos here.

Concert Review: Teddy Afro

Last night I attended a concert by Teddy Afro. I think I'd heard the name maybe once before K mentioned going. The concert was being held at the Ghion, so I imagined a nice little crowd in one of the ballrooms or something. Imagine my surprise when we started seeing cars parked on the road on the other side of Meskel Square. We ended up walking a kilometer to the show, which was outside, in front of a cast of several thousand ardent fans. I had purposely dressed light in expectation of being inside a packed, hot indoor venue. Yikes. I wrapped my scarf tighter and we got a drink and waded into the crowd. We saw K's roommie and various associates. The crowd was at least 99% Ethiopian. In the dark we didn't stick out like light bulbs.

The warmup act was a DJ dressed in L.A. gangbanger kit, including the sideways hat. How is it that gangster rap and pro wrestling are our big entertainment exports? Yeesh. After much ado, smoke bombs, laser flashes, and the band playing a loooooong intro, Teddy himself strutted onto the stage wearing... a black business suit complete with folded pocket square. Huh? Teddy is a great entertainer, really playing to the crowd with a big smile and many mentions of Addis Ababa and its various neighborhoods. He played for about 1/2 an hour and then took a break. I thought only bar cover bands did that. A comedian performed for about 15 minutes, who was apparently funny. Teddy reappeared in jeans and a Haile Salassie T-shirt. He continued his ultra-accessible mix of reggae, funk, and Ethopian/Amharic music. It's no wonder he's so popular. Even though I didn't understand a word of it, the beat had us dancing to every song. (My legs are sore this morning, from that or the gym, one.) The sound system was top-notch and even 1/2-way back in the crowd the bass notes had my pants legs rippling.

At Teddy's second break it was waaaaay past my bedtime and we decided to head out. So I don't know how long Teddy played. Anyway, it was good music, a fun and welcoming crowd, and warm enough if you kept dancing.