Wed 3rd Feb, New Kenya Lodge, Nairobi, Kenya Spent the day first with breakfast with the two german girls, then i went off for a spot of internet. Wandered around the city, much to say, but since i will be back in Nairobi at least once, I will leave it to a later entry (that and because this is so delayed).
In the end, I decided that i would make my way to Uganda after all, and bought a ticket on Kampala Coach for 1800 KSH. The coach departs tomorrow at 6am, and i would regret taking these early buses later on, just because they arrive in the late evening or when it is dark. Trust me, it is not easy to get around in a brand new city and orientate yourself when you have completely no idea where you are.
Took out some cash (both Mastercard and VISA exists here). After which, i decided to just take it easy today and caught a movie, Old Dogs, starring Travolta and Robin Williams. Price is 350 KSH, pretty much the same as in Singapore. Wasn’t a brilliant movie, i was planning to catch Sherlock Holmes, but couldn’t find a screen showing it.
The rest of the time was generally spent at the New Kenya Lodge, talking to the other travelers. This is probably the highest concentration of them so far in one place since Dahab in Egypt. The place would have been perfect if only there was wireless connection. =)
Tue 2nd Feb, New Kenya Lodge, Nairobi, Kenya Woken up by the same joker who brought us to the hotel, he just hangs around and gets under our skin. He tells us the checkout time is 9am and we need to clear. I can’t be bothered with him, but we needed to sort out transportation and so left the place.
The Polish guys left on the matutu for Nanyuki (200 KSH), the gateway town to Mount Kenya where they were headed. I went on a matutu, a seven seater van, (650 KSH) to Nairobi. Waited for the Aussies at the matutu station but they didn’t turn up so i left.
The journey was mostly on good road and way more comfortable than the last 4 days. I even managed to snooze a couple of times. We reached Nairobi around 3pm, roughly a 4-5 hour trip. Nairobi looks like a very modern city, more developed central district than the other central areas in other cities i based myself in. The matutu dropped me in the matutu area. I was a bit apprehensive about being in Nairobi, since it had the honour of being one of the most dangerous cities in the world to live in. I found the New Kenyan Lodge, a cosy little place with shared dorms at 500 KSH. There is a comfortable living room area where i can sit and watch tv and meet with others. The place is also popular with the Jap traveler crowd, so it must appear in those Japanese or Korean travel guides that i see the carry. So the hotel area i am in is relatively safe, as long as i watch my valuables and avoid going out at night.
Took a shower. It feels good to be clean. And i went out to the streets to get some food. There is a bit of a fast food culture here, with fish and chips, as well as chicken, being sold and ate at the counters, standing up even. Living costs can get rather expensive here though, since a decent fast food meal set me back around 440 KSH, for a quarter chicken and fries, plus fruit juice.
Came back before dark, with all the stories here, it pays to be careful. The hotel is a cosy place, where i meet other travelers to get info etc.
Mon 1st Feb, Nur Plaza, Isiolo, Kenya Woke up at 6.30am when they moved to unload the cargo. The locals remaining on the truck through the night got off with us and went off to find breakfast. I had mine too. Milk tea (in a mug like in Somaliland and not in those tiny chai cups elsewhere!) and mandazi, a slightly sweet bread thingy.
Here’s the plan for each of our groups. I was to go to Isiolo, and i ‘reserved’ my spot by leaving my backpack on the truck. The truck then went off elsewhere to unload. The three aussies wanted to go to Isiolo as well, but their bags were with them at the hotel where they spent the night. Bartek and Marcin wanted Lake Turkana, heading west from Marsabit. And Hilal was trying to get to Logologo, an hour south along the Marsabit-Isiolo road.
However, as usual, Africa time meant the truck didn’t reappear to set off. Hilal arranged to hitch a pickup since her’s was a short distance down the road, but even that didn’t materialise till a couple hours later than the appointed pickup time. Said bye to her. By lunchtime, we had all congregated outside one eating place, waiting for transport out. The Polish guys’ inquiries of transport to Lake Turkana met with laughter and “you can try” and “maybe in the evening”. A helpful fellow tells the Aussies a cattle truck is coming from the north into town and they should wait at the main road for the truck. Me, even though we are going the same way, i am unable to join them, since my bag was on the first truck, which was nowhere to be found…After more than an hour though, the Aussies were back at the eating place, tired of waiting for their non-existent truck. No one could give a straight answer to whether there would be a truck out. “Maybe there will be. Or maybe there won’t be” was the best i could get out of everyone. The fellow locals on board yesterday’s truck were also sitting in the eating place, so i figured as long as they were calm, it would be fine to just follow their lead.
Someone then mentioned the truck may not leave today, which led to the locals on board’s leader to go on a frantic hunt for the truck, to no avail. Finally at 3, the truck reappeared, we all, in spite of our plans, figured this is the best and only option out of town and all trooped to the truck now parked on the main road.
They told us the truck wasn’t leaving today. Instead, there was another truck, empty, going south. We will go on that truck (400 KSH each). Well, it started empty, by the time we set off at 4pm, it was a human cargo truck, and we were the human cattle. Passengers from all over town popped up and were seated in the container area, as well as on the metal railings on the roof.
We set off, and compared to the relatively comfortable ride yesterday on sacks of onions, this one was a minor nightmare. First the load was much less, so the driver sped through the rough bumpy road, resulting in all of us flying all over the inside of the truck. Secondly, there were no more sacks to absorb the bumpy shocks, so we got the full brunt during the journey. And thirdly, the dust, oh my! Since we were near the base of the truck, the dust was getting into the truck like nobody’s business. My nostrils were complaining, everyone was covered in dust. And it only became better when i slipped head first into my sleeping bag. That got rid of the dust, but it was too uncomfortable to do anything but hold on to the railings for dear life.
Reached Isiolo, thoroughly exhausted at 12.30am. We were beset by accomodation touts who offered to show us hotels. Too tired to argue, they led the way to an overpriced Nur Plaza Hotel (600 KSH for a double room). We bunked 3 to a room, me with the Poles.
Went down to their hotel in the morning. No news from the police station about their lost stuff. Everyone in town knew them, and some fella or other were claiming they caught the thief etc. But these were just suspects and they had no prove where the laptop went. They left their number with the police there just in case there was further development.
Introduced to Hilal, a spunky Israeli girl. She came into Moyale the evening before and got a visa extension to stay a week in Kenya. She had come from the south, got her extension at the border, and would be going south with us, but to meet with her friend in one of the towns below.
There was no bus going from Moyale to Marsabit apparently. All there was were trucks, gigantic cargo trucks with the interior caged by metal railings. These trucks transport anything from cattle, goats, to sacks of goods. The first trucks quoted 1000 KSH, but Hilal, who by then had been traveling in East Africa for 3.5 months had contacts from the previous truck and got all of us a good deal at 400 KSH each. We waited for the truck to come by. It was loading somewhere, so we waited at the steps. Along too came the Aussie trio of Stu, Steve and Mick, from Ethiopian Moyale, joining us on our truck. Minutes became hours and the 9.30 truck arrived only at lunch. Meanwhile, there were shady characters just sitting down on the steps with us, not saying anything. Some other local chased them away, telling us to be wary. Hmmm.
And so we left Moyale only at 2.30pm, sitting on sacks on onions, boxes of processed food, sacks of charcoal and other stuff piled into the truck at least 1.5 meters high. 7 of us travelers, plus about another 10 locals. It was impossible to get comfortable, the road was not paved, so despite travelling in a heavy duty truck, it was one bumpy ride. Progress was very slow, since the truck was pretty much loaded to the max. We traveled into the evening, then night. Arranging the sacks to make ourselves comfortable, we tried to get some sleep. It got cold as well, so the sleeping bag i took out was very much welcomed.
Reached Marsabit around 2 am. The rest moved to a nearby Kiasut hotel (150 KSH) but i stayed atop the truck, content under my sleeping bag. Hilal too, since i was using my sleeping bag as a blanket to cover both of us. Only problem was that we probably smelled of onions after that.
This is me catching up on a backlog of entries, finally reaching Nairobi on 2nd Feb. With no power supply, or proper sleeping places over the past 4 days, there was no way to do proper updates.
The bus set off from Dila to Moyale, another 9 hour bus ride. This time, i planted myself at the back of the bus. Largely uneventful trip, tiring, but at least it was on good tarmac road. This is the last bit of good road. Everyone, from travelers to locals, tells me the road from Moyale down is shit.
Moyale-Kenyan half
Moyale town is split into two halves, the Ethiopian half and the Kenyan half. A main road connects the two. The Ethiopian half is more developed with banks, better roads and roadside shops and markets typical of most Ethiopian towns. The Kenyan side has a very dusty undeveloped feel to it, though all the amenities that a traveler might need can also be found on the streets.
It was 4pm when i made my way down to the Ethiopian customs to do my border formalities. Quick and painless. The problem was i had around 950 Birr to change to Kenyan Shillings. A guy claiming to be from the official tourist office (he flashed his official card for the briefing second), and offered a 5.2 rate. The exchange rate is really bad here (5.9 should be normal, according to a deaf/mute Jap woman in dreadlocks i met on the street. Yeah, talk about out of place) and the bank, which offers better rates, was closed by then. The fellow claimed he offers the best rate and the other black market guys on the street may exchange counterfeit currency. It was obviously a load of BS and i tried to ask around the immediate area. But they were all colluding (this hotel doesn’t change, and that other money changer offers only 5.0 etc etc) and i got damn worked up by the guy following me, going on and on about his being the best rate. In the end, i told him to piss off, walked back up the main drag, stopping any guy with a wad of cash and asking his rate. I got up to 5.48 till i ran out of time. The borders close at 6pm, and it was better to get across to the Kenyan side. Going the next morning would mean i may miss the morning truck out of Moyale, and i wasn’t going to take that risk.
Crossed over to the Kenyan side. A German man of about 45 and his van was arguing at the border to let him through. He looked a bit volatile, possibly drunk and not worth asking for a hitch on the van. The Kenyan customs official and his buddy armed guard were very friendly, and let me through even though they were closing shop when i arrived.
I wasn’t sure how the tout culture here was in Kenya, but the first person who came up to me pointing to a hotel, i avoided. Instead i went down to the Tawakal, much further off the main road. Initial price was 400, i offered 250 KSH and got it. Basic lodging in a dorm, with bucket showers and all locals (i had a room with two Kenyans). Got out for some dinner, and chanced upon two Polish guys, Bartek and Marcin. When they introduced themselves as Polish, i immediately knew they were from the Egypt-Sudan ferry one week before mine, Chris mentioned these two before. The same groups traveling south all meet each other =). Nice people, they were in Moyale since yesterday, because someone had broke into their locked room and stolen their laptop and camera. The owner of their hotel was very upset, since his hotel’s reputation in town as a secure place was tarnished. He apparently paid money for scouts to find out information on the theft in both the Kenyan and Ethiopian sides of the town.
Had dinner with them, actually they watched me eat (70 KSH). The meal was rice soaked in some sort of soup, beans, bits of meat and some vege. It was very tasty and filling. Or i just miss eating rice. We arranged to meet tomorrow morning for the bus down south to Marsabit.
Qat is famous for 2 things. One is that it is powerful in Scrabble (yo SOWPOD people!) and the other is that it is infamous in the Horn of Africa. So here is a short essay on Qat, since i have too much time while seated on long distance buses.
Qat, or chat, or tchat (pronounced chart), also known by its scientific name of catha edulis is a plant cultivated in the highland regions of eastern Africa and the Arabian peninsula. Grown at altitudes of 1500m to 2800m, the 2m shrubs are grown mainly in Ethiopia, Yemen and Kenya (where it is known as Miraa). From Ethiopia, it is exported daily by truck to neighbouring Somaliland and Djibouti. It is banned in Eritrea.
The consumption of Qat brings about feelings of euphoria in the individual. It is a mild natural stimulant that creates a”high”. The qat itself is bitter tasting, and needs to be chewed on constantly for the effect to take place. Continuously eating the chat leaves will leave the individual oblivious to his surroundings.
It is a pastime that many indulge in, especially in the afternoons. In Ethiopia, qat is sold by the bundle for as cheap as 25 cents USD. Often carries by street vendors, shopkeepers and the like, it can be easily obtained. In Somaliland, colourful green qat booths litter the side of the road, hawking the various grades of chat. In Djibouti, whole shops and other small businesses shut for the afternoon, for the customary qat chewing activity. It is normal to find shopkeepers sprawled on their sides on the ground outside their shops, quietly “grazing” on the qat.
As can be predicted, qat chewing would have serious socio-economic consequences. In Yemen, qat consumption takes up 10% of personal income, and 25% of usable working hours in the afternoon is devoted to chewing. Even in affluent Djibouti, qat is said to be the reason for numerous divorces. Prices of chat here are higher, about 10 times what it is sold for in Ethiopia, where it imports its supply. The main impact of qat consumption is therefore productivity loss, with other side effects such as engaging in anti-social behaviour while under the effects of the plant.
Environmentally, qat cultivation is replacing other crops such as millet and sorghum because it is a more lucrative crop for farmers to grow. A recent study has suggested that qat is 10 to 20 times more profitable to cultivate that competing crops. It also consumes less water than other crops to grow, and so in some places, like water scarce Yemen, it makes more sense for farmers to grow qat. This however, is detrimental to the land, for, as qat cultivation increases, the water table drops and precious water to be used elsewhere is instead used to cultivate qat.
The simple solution to reduce qat consumption in the region is through education. But to wean societies that have grown up on qat consumption for hundreds of years will not be easy. It will take 10 or 20 years for education to have any effect. In the meantime, schools should raise awareness of the impact of qat consumption. Governments, short of banning the plant altogether, should draw up regulations to cut down on the percentage of arable land for qat farming over the next 20 years. Importing nations, such as Djibouti and Somaliland should raise the price of qat sold. This would have the effect of reducing demand, and subsequently the supply would also drop. On the exporting countries’ part, they could raise the export tax to make it less worthwhile a crop to produce, though this, if not managed well, would increase smuggling activities across the border.
Finally, in hushed tones, if one looks at this from another perspective, qat does have the potential for export to countries outside of the Horn. The detrimental fallout, should this happen however, is too huge to even think about.
Reference Shadow of the Sun, Ryszard Kapuscinski. What has tchat got to do with Yemen?,Capital, January 24,2010, Alazar K. Lonely Planet, Eritrea & Ethiopia, June 2006.
In the morning, took a cab (30 birr, split with a Japanese guy who was also going to the bus station). The Addis-Moyale bus was 138 birr, over 2 days, with a stopover at Dila. The journey passed through the Rift Valley lakes, along the river Awasa. There were birds galore along the way. The weather got hotter and hotter as we went southwards.
At each town we stopped to drop people, a horde of sellers will crowd the bus windows. You could literally go window shopping, the amount of things that were on offer. The non-exhaustive list included bananas, sugarcane, kolo, qat, chewing gum, tissue packets, biscuits, lottery tickets, pineapples, potraits of Jesus. The list goes on. Lunch was in Ziway, a 14 birr delight of fried freshwater fish from the Awasa.
We reached Dila at around 330pm. I got my bag from the bus roof. The fellow as usual wanted his birr. Maybe i’m becoming less of a pushover. You want 5 birr? I’ll give you 2. You don’t want 2 birr, fine, i grab my money back and walk off. Faced with the prospect of not getting anything, they take the 2 birr. Works like a charm. It’s crazy how faranjis get quoted the stupidest prices. I still remember the Jijiga to Harar bus, when the fella demanded 10 birr. We protested, and the locals on the bus actually egged us on with approval.
I stayed at the Etalemahu Pension, a 30 birr place very near to the bus station. The other locals from the bus were on the adjacent rooms. My room is pleasant, except for the mosquitoes. I lighted up one coil to disturb the mosquitoes, then proceeded to kill about 20 of them, in a 2 by 2m room. Not exaggerating. I’m sure there are more in the room. I will buy a can of spray later, as it will get worse when i head into Kenya im sure.
Dila is a little bit dangerous in my opinion. Somehow it seems to be a well developed town, with one nice restaurant that might cater for the Addis crowd. But the local populace who comes up to you asking for money can be very persistent. Two blocked my path and had to be reprimanded by another local before i could slip away.
Also, I got a souvenir on my penultimate day in Ethiopia: a bloody nose. I was returning from dinner, walking along the main road, when a young woman with unkempt hair crossed the road and headed towards me. I thought nothing of it and walked on. Then she facepalmed me on my face, hard. And walked off. Leaving me with a bloody nose. I was too shocked to chase after her. There were a lot of witnesses too, and they told me she was crazy. It woke me up though. Reminded me that i am traveling alone again and need to get my guard up.
Another amazing thing that happened was that the wrapping paper for my insecticide aerosol spray (35 birr) is half a page of the 25th July 2009 edition of The Straits Times Recruit section. I am completely flabbergasted. Why would a piece of Singapore newspaper end up here in a remote non-tourist town in Ethiopia? Let alone one dated on my birthday??? It could be a sign, mind you. Which in this case, as printed in the newspaper, it’s a sign that i should be an SCDF officer, a Commercial Affairs officer in the Police force, an ICA officer, an ITE lecturer or a MICA officer.
This has been a very unusual night. And on an ordinary pitstop en route from Addis Ababa to Moyale. Tomorrow i carry on on the same bus southwards.
Thu 28th Jan, Taitu Hotel, Addis Ababa The flower mentioned here is Addis Ababa, or “new flower” in Amharic. Just like back in Khartoum, returning to Addis is like meeting an old friend. A comforting familiar location, the same hotel, somewhere you know you can clean up. And best of all, a killer location in the lounge to watch Egypt-Algeria in the semis later. Arrived in Addis at 5am, somewhere in the middle of the Merkato market apparently (it is dark). The other passengers leave, but driver tells me to sleep a couple of hours in the van, because i will probably get mugged if i travel through the market in the night. I woke up and made my way to the hotel. This time round, I am a pro at getting around, since i am familiar with the city. I take the minibus from the Merkato to the Piazza (1 birr) easily, since i now know the bus with the bus conductor shouting the destination “Arat Kilo” is the bus that bypasses the Piazza. Next i checked in at the hotel, paid 108 birr (14 birr more than last time) and got a nicer room upstairs with a better mattress. The plan today was to get my onward tickets south to Moyale, the border to Kenya, to stock up on everyday stuff, and to get some proper sleep later in the afternoon. Ok, after a shower (i was full of grime and dirt), I went out to the railway station down south along Churchill Ave. It was still a cool morning, so the walk helped to warm up my muscles. The Selam bus station, which sells tickets for the more comfortable and pricier Selam bus, is located near to the train station (turn left and follow the road and there’s the Selam sign). Unfortunately the only destinations they cover are Gonder and Bahir Dar to the north, and Harar, Dire Dawa and Jimma to the east. I would have to take the normal bus to Moyale. Two days of travel on those buses again. Sigh. No matter. Now i need to make my way to the Merkato again. Took a minibus back from the train station to the Piazza (1 birr) then the Piazza to Merkato (1.70 birr). From the Merkato, had to walk to the end of the market where the main bus station was. Bad news, the guys there said the tickets are sold the next morning at 530am at the counter. Come back then. The company with buses to Moyale is “3A Tsegaye Kassahun”, with its own booth (No.6) near the bus station entrance. That’s that for bus hunting then.. Next is replenishment, both groceries and myself, for i didn’t have dinner yesterday. The best place i know for this is the Bole Road area with its upmarket supermarkets. So i pick up another minibus from Merkato to Bole Road (3.50 birr). I don’t know whether i’ve just gotten used to the city, or i’m becoming more confident. I seem to be able to get these minibuses way easier than back then. I drop off at the New York Supermarket and bought instant noodles, toothpaste, teabags, more eggs and the dailies before having a decent tuna sandwich in the cafe next door, topped with black forest cake and mango juice. The price of lunch is a grand 50 birr. Took yet another minibus from Bole Rd back to the Piazza where the hotel is (2.50 birr). That’s enough of walking around then. It’s 2pm, i will stay in the room, type this out and take a nap. Later this evening, i’ll go down to the net cafe (no this one doesn’t have wifi unlike Hargeisa’s posh Oriental Hotel in Somaliland).
Wed 27th Jan, In a van en route to Addis Woke up before the sunrise so that i can catch a sunrise photo at Harar Gate. The walled city of Harar was created to keep out the Oromo invaders. And till now it has stood. I walked around the main gate area, all the shops were still close so you could say it was more of a recce. I then found myself at the Shoa gate where i ate fuul dunked in chilli powder and a shai (5 birr!) Went back to the hotel, left for a look at the old town. There are apparently 82 mosques just inside 1 square km of old town. It is a small area, but the density of little alleyways make it a quaint little town to spend a day. Then of course you have the people. The women are dressed in red, purple, yellow and orange, whereas the older men had their orange beards. We weaved in and out of the alleys and roads, ocassionally finding ourselves on the outside of the wall. Besides the wall itself, there were also the markets outside the walls, in what is termed the new town. Even these markets had their alleys and little nooks and crannies. There was the main markets, the smuggler’s market and the recycling market. We didn’t buy anything of course, but it was just the experience of walking around these lively markets that is so exhilarating. I got my minibus ticket (130 birr) to Addis in the afternoon.. The bus is a night bus, and by leaving at 7pm today, i would reach Addis with plenty of time to recharge, but i would miss the famed hyena men feeding session just outside the town walls. =/ The minivan ride was nuts.. Drunk Addis guy on Harari wine and stuffed with qat made so much noise throughout. There were three police checkpoints too. They were more interested in the locals and anything they might have smuggled into Addis though. I was generall left alone, other than a few frisks. Pardon the quality of this entry, which really doesn’t do Harar justice. I might reupdate this entry later on. I’m rushing through and posting so that i can go back and watch Egypt vs Algeria which comes up later tonight! Hope the photos will suffice for now.
Tue 26th Jan, Some local dump, Harar Today we make the long journey from Hargeisa, Somaliland to Harar, Ethiopia. After the complimentary breakfast, we take the minibus from just behind the hotel to the Wajaale Station (1500 shillings) where transport to Wajaale could be found. What i thought would be buses turned out to the Toyota Mark II cars instead, and these charged 5.5 USD per pax to the border town of Wajaale. As usual, we waited for the vehicle to get full before going. The road was sealed, until we turned off onto the dirt track towards Wajaale halfway. Here the terrain got interesting. We must have gone through this terrain at night when coming into Somaliland by 4WD. In the horizon, duststorm after duststorm loomed. We passed by a few up close. Around 2.5 hours later, we arrived at Wajaale. The main road here is still a sandy track. After doing the border necessities at both sides (the immigrations building is unmarked), we took a public bus to the next town Jijiga (20 birr, 2.5 hrs). The standard annoying Ethiopian asking for 10 birr for lifting your bag on top of the bus is back. =) The road got better as we went west. And the scenery got greener as well.. I suspect it was rolling qat fields we passed through. I counted, along the way, there were 7 police or military checkpoints. The more thorough ones strip searched the passengers, one made me go on the bus roof to open my padlocked bag. The locals had to show their IDs. All these because of the proximity to the border. From Jijiga, we took yet another bus, this time to Harar (23 birr, 2 hours), which meant we arrived in Harar only at around 8pm. Along the way we passed through the Valley of Marvels, so named because of the boulders standing on top of each other at impossible angles. I’m sure there is a story to this valley, but at that moment in the bus no one could tell us. We reached Harar and found all the hotels to be full, due to some big meeting going on in the Oromia region. We were forced to stay in one of the local places, with no power point, water for shower etc (30 birr). But the beds were comfortable, so I had a good night’s sleep. p/s im back in Ethiopia, so i’m posting from emails again since we cannot access the blog web page.
