Trip Pictures

I uploaded the pictures from my trip for you to view. Click on the picture, or click here. If you would like to order prints or other photo gifts, I also have them up on Shutterfly.

My run in with the Ethiopian Ministry of Magic, and Marshall Law

There are two governments in Ethiopia that I experienced. The first I affectionately call "the Ministry of Magic." If you think the US government is filled with inefficient bureaucratic red tape, then you obviously haven't been to Ethiopia. Having said that, I should note that never have I dealt with people in government who work with so much friendliness and patience either, despite the excruciating inefficiency.

No sooner than we got off the plane did we land ourselves at the very end of a long line of people waiting to get visas into the country. What could be taking so long? We found out an and a half hour later. Two teams of two people each slogging through handwritten visas for a whole Boeing 767 planeful of people. Put a carbon sheet under this one, another under that one, fill out a form here, there, put a stamp there, and a sticker up here... wash, rinse, repeat... NEXT!

Just when I thought I was through, the real fun began. Customs. They confiscated my camera. Apparently HD cameras are not allowed into their country without prior authorization, even though most cameras sold nowadays in the States, both consumer and professional, are HD. Another American who was having something confiscated told me I'd be lucky to see the camera again. Oh great! Thanks for the consolation.

Before the trip began, Karla told me about registering with the Ethiopia Embassy since I would be taping there. I disregarded this, figuring since I wasn't taking professional equipment, it wouldn't be a problem, just my consumer Canon HF S100 camera. However, I think what tripped them up was that I had various attachments added onto it: lenses and an audio input device. Regardless, it was unfamiliar to them, and thus suspect.

All was not lost, thankfully. I had a backup plan. Stowed away in another bag was my second camera, so I could use that until I received my main camera back. All I needed to do was to get permission from the Ethiopian Ministry of Information, located downtown. Sounds easy enough, right?

Wrong! What ensued was a wild goose chase littered with bureaucratic red tape like I've NEVER seen in America, Canada, Europe, or even Korea before. We went to where they said the Ministry of Information was located, quickly renamed the Ministry of Magic, at the Ethiopian National Television Building. Nope, not there. If it weren't for a kind man and his son that we ran into who just happened to work there who showed us where to find it, our adventure would have been stymied right from the get go. When we got there, he even knew exactly who we needed to talk to. This was a good sign. We'd be out of here in no time now!

Not so fast. I look in the office, and I expected to find a computer at his desk, when what I found was a man hiding behind a desk with paperwork stacked on top. He told me, "type the answers to the questions listed on this form." Standard stuff: why are you here, what are you filming, where are you going, for how long, production company name, what's the budget of your production. Only, where are we gonna find a computer to type this stuff up on?

We left the Ministry of Magic in search of an internet cafe. None of this would have been possible without my trusty interpreter, Karla'a daughter Hanna, who was on board for the first part of our trip. She speaks perfect Amharic, on account of she was born in Ethiopia, and lived there a good part of her life before being adopted by Karla. After finding a computer a block away, we waited the requisite 10 minutes for their computer to boot up (thankfully this part of town had electricity today), quickly typed out the answers, making sure to only put $1000 as my budget for the film (cost of the camera), and waited another 15 minutes for them to take the file to another location to print it; no on site printer that worked apparently.

I took the form back to the Ministry of Magic. He crossed things out, reworded other things, told me to correct it and come back. This time, however, he led me down the hall to where a computer was located, and told me I could use it this time. Why couldn't I have used it the first time, too?

I took back the corrected form, and then he gave me another form to fill out by hand. It had the exact same questions to fill out that I filled out on the computer already, both times. I figured those were just practice for the real thing. I was in the big leagues now!

All through this, and man remained friendly, and explained to me he was only going to charge me the minimum fee, since I was independent and low budget. The fee was about 1500 birr, which amounts to about $140 US. I didn't enjoy paying it, but it could have been worse. He left, and returned 15 minutes later with my permission form stamped by his boss. I thought I was done, but then he told me I need to return with a photograph of me to include in "my file." Ugh!

Now to find a photographer. Luckily, there was one conveniently located two blocks away. They took me up to this professional studio to snap my photo. I looked like crap, but who cares. 25 minutes to process the photo, and I returned back to the Ministry of Magic to hand over my photo.

Armed with my permission slip, now it was finally time to go back to the airport to claim my camera. It went like this: pay them 3 birr to be able to enter the airport; enter, remove my shoes, belt, and any other "threatening" materiel, go through airport security. Enter customs. We had to show our passports; my interpreter didn't have hers, so I was on my own on this one. I went to the desk, showed them my form, thinking I was seconds away from the end of this ordeal. Nope. Go talk to somebody over there (that's all I understood). After finding him, he looked at the form, signed it. I went back to the desk. Go upstairs and make a copy. It took 15 mins to find the place and copy the sheet. Back to the desk. They slogged through pages and pages of handwritten data entries looking for my camera information, taking their time in the process. Eventually, they took my form (FINALLY!) and brought out my camera! Now I was getting somewhere! Oops... along with my camera the gave me ANOTHER form to take to someone over there. I took it over there. "Go upstairs and copy it, and leave your camera here until you get back." REALLY?! I stomped back upstairs, copied, paid, returned. FINALLY they gave me back my camera with all my forms, and I was free.

At each step of the way, I had to pay a little here, and a little there. I guess this is how they keep people employed in Ethiopia: give them a menial task, and wait until the next idiot comes along so you can charge them. When all was said and done, we had spent half of one day getting the permission forms, and then another couple hours the next day at the customs office at the airport.

This is only one example of many experiences with the Ethiopian government (Ministry of Magic) during my sojourn in their beautiful country...

Until we got into the countryside. Then it was a different ball game entirely. The Ethiopian countryside is almost like stepping back into the 1800's wild west where Marshall law ruled. There, the people who hold the guns hold the power. They won't shoot the guns unless they have to, as bullets are too expensive, but regardless, they give the bearer pull. As we neared Enessa, our guide was the Inspector General Morgus of the police force from Mertule Maryam. With his influence, doors were opened to us that would have been closed without. He was our passport through any and all obstacle out there. He took us to Esubalew's village, made sure everything went OK there, and he even invited us over to his house for the most delicious dorowat (chicken stew) that Ethiopia has to offer.

Before leaving Enessa, Esubalew wanted to set up a bank account for his mother because he wanted to give her money to purchase a house later. We needed photographs for her ID card, however, by the time we got to the photographer in Mertule Maryam, they had closed their doors for the night. Enter Inspector Morgus. He accompanied them back to the photographer, got them to take the photo, and we picked up the developed photo in the morning. Now that's what I'm talking about! The difference between how government worked in the country and the city could not be more extreme!

If only we had had Chief Inspector Morgus with us when dealing with customs...

Lesson learned

My last night in Ethiopia, in the capital city of Addis Ababa, I stayed at a fairly expensive hotel, but I was guaranteed electricity, warm water, and the internet, all things that were far from guaranteed everywhere else I had been. It was nice to just relax for a bit.

After a nice long hot shower, I decided to try and find something interesting to do. I walked out of the hotel to find someplace to have dinner. Not far from the hotel, a guy started chatting with me. He told me he worked at the hotel in the laundry department, and that he was on his way to a party. It was a holiday that day aparently, and college had just let out, so some friends were getting together. I decided to be adventurous. We got in a cab and drove to a house not far from there.

Inside, there was already lots of people there. They were all women. Beautiful women. All of them. I thought it a little strange that there were no other men there beside my friend, and me, a foreigner. They offered me a drink. The women were very friendly, saying things like "I like you," and "you're cute." My new friend told me I could have any of them that I wanted. Hmm... so this was a prostitution house I finally realized.

No matter. I said, "I have a girlfriend, and I don't cheat."

He replied, "what happens in Ethiopia stays in Ethiopia."

"Sorry. I'm not interested," I replied.

One of the girls asked if I would buy them drinks. Before I even had a chance to say "no," they brought out some expensive wine and bourbon, and the girls were downing it like there was no tomorrow. They asked me again, and I more forcefully declined this time.

At some point, another Ethiopia guy come in with another foreigner in tow. Looks like I'm not the only gullible one. Once they realized I wasn't interested in their services, they brought out a bill to me. What kind of "house party" charges their guests? None that I've ever been to. I don't think were in Kansas anymore, Toto. I had to fumble for my eyes after they popped out of my head when I saw the total. Over 2600 birr, which amounts to about $245! And that just for drinks? How much would their other services cost? I quickly told them I could not pay that much, and refused to pay. They went to get
their "manager." Ok. Now I was getting scared.

He took me out to the front of the house to discuss payment. I explained "I only have about 200 birr," which is about $20, and even showed it to him. He suggested that my friend pay half. I repeated, "I can't pay even that."

He pointed to my passport wallet underneath my shit saying, "but you have money in there!"

To which I lied, "no, I do not. This is all I have," holding out the 200 birr again. He called one of the girls out to explain that I had agreed to buy them drinks, which accusation I flatly denied. Clearly, this was going nowhere but down at an increasing speed. I began to fear more and more for my safety. Thoughts of them tackling me, tying me up, beating me within an inch of my life raced through my head.

I decided to make a run for it. If they intended to harm me, I wanted the upper hand in attempting to flee first. I felt bad for that other foreigner, but I was not about to go back to warn him this was about personal survival at this point. I walked out of the gate, and my right flip-flop fell off. Just what I needed! I had given my shoes away earlier that week, and needless to say, flip-flops don't make good get away shoes! They were trying to pursue me, so I went back for the
wayward flip-flop. I put it on, and continued walking. My "friend" tried to get me to come back, and I shoved him away and continued walking. I didn't look back, and he didn't pursue me more.

I was still scared to death, but I pushed forward, found a taxi to take me to my hotel, and reported this scam to the hotel concierge. As soon as I told her, her head fell. This was obviously not the first time she'd heard this story. I told her I was scared, and she reasured me that I would be safe.

What's funny about all of this? I read about just such scams in the travel book I read before coming to Ethiopia. Why didn't I pick up on it? My desire to do something interesting obscured my perspective. I shouldn't have even gotten into a cab with someone I just met. Sometimes the only way to learn is through personal experience, no matter how much textual theory you may take in beforehand.

I just feel incredibly grateful that I made it through this experience without damage to either my pocketbook, or more importantly, my life.

They're coming to America

Happy 4th of July!

I have several blogs to post in the upcoming weeks, but for now, I leave you with an experience that I had on the plane coming home from Ethiopia, and is particularly relevant to today's holiday.

I met a man sitting across the isle from me. He was going to be entering the US for the first time ever. It's very difficult to become a US citizen for people around the world. We only accept a few thousand people from Ethiopia every year, and it's determined by a lottery system; totally random. This particular gentleman put his papers in some 20 years ago to come here, and on this particular flight, this military air corpsman was going to enter the US as a citizen. I felt a little choked up thinking about Neil Diamond's famous song "America," which unfailingly plays every year during Independence Day celebrations across the nation, but it's words are no less true than they were when they were written years ago in 1980...

America -- Neil Diamond

Far
We've been traveling far
Without a home
But not without a star

Free
Only want to be free
We huddle close
Hang on to a dream

On the boats and on the planes
They're coming to America
Never looking back again
They're coming to America

Home, don't it seem so far away
Oh, we're traveling light today
In the eye of the storm
In the eye of the storm

Home, to a new and a shiny place
Make our bed, and we'll say our grace
Freedom's light burning warm
Freedom's light burning warm

Everywhere around the world
They're coming to America
Every time that flag's unfurled
They're coming to America

Got a dream to take them there
They're coming to America
Got a dream they've come to share
They're coming to America

They're coming to America
They're coming to America
They're coming to America
They're coming to America
Today, today, today, today, today

My country 'tis of thee
(Today)
Sweet land of liberty
(today)
Of thee I sing
(today)
Of thee I sing
(today)

(today)

(today)

(today)

Today we embark

Esubalew, Karla, her two Ethiopian daughters and I leave today for Ethiopia. We'll arrive in Addis Abeba Tuesday at 8:30 in the morning, no doubt exhausted already by the flight. We each carry the maximum allowed luggage, 115 lbs of luggage per person, filled to the hilt with humanitarian aid supplies. We'll be buying more things when we get there, like walking canes for the blind, etc. I got my camera and batteries ready, a tent to pitch, sleeping bag, mat and everything else I'll need for a rugged backwoods experience. Ethiopia, BRING YOUR WORST!

The existence of the internet permitting, I'll keep you updated as we go along this incredible journey.

Thanks for tuning in!

'Slumdog' youth gets home - Los Angeles Times

'Slumdog' youth gets home - Los Angeles Times

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I found this article in today's LA Times, and found it to be interesting and of interest to you, as the departure date for our "slumdog millionaire" to reunite with his mother approaches.

Two weeks away!

Well, Esubalew (Ethan), Karla (Esubalew's friend and organizer of this trip) and I are less than two weeks away from Ethiopia, and we couldn't be more excited. I have some news regarding our itinerary to share. So far, it's like this:


View Ethiopia Trip - Blind Promises in a larger map

We leave for Ethiopia on June 14. After a LONG plane trip, we arrive June 16th in Addis Abeba. We'll stay here in the largest and capitol city. While here, we plan on visiting the couple that runs the school for the blind that played tug-o-war with Esubalew 13 or 14 years ago to rescue him from the clutches of his slave masters. The first of many reunions that we will experience on this trip, we'll meet the wonderful couple who had enough insight into Esubalew's situation to realize he was being taken advantage of, and created the first of many opportunities that blessed his life.

From Addis Abeba, we'll fly to the ancient capitol of Ethiopia, Gondar, the fifth largest city located in the northern part of the country. The purpose of our stop here is to drop off supplies at Karla's non-profit organization, World of Good Ethiopia, which seeks “to improve the health, education and quality of life of impoverished individuals around the world – most specifically, but not limited to children and seniors, as well as individuals with disabilities.” They establish sponsorships for poor children who would have no oportunity otherwise for healthy meals and an education. While we are here, we will meet some of the children whom Karla works to aid, one of which is a blind boy who doesn't yet know that Karla has found someone to sponsor him, but will find out!

After Gondar, we continue our journey, piling all the things we'll need for the road that lies ahead in a (hopefully reliable and stout off-road) vehicle. We will go from the heavily populated city of Gondar (~200,000 people) to increasingly more rural cities. We drive south along the coast of Ethiopia's largest lake, Lake Tana, down to the coastal city of Bahir Dar (pop. ~180,000). Further south we come to Mota (pop. ~25,000), the largest city near where Esubalew grew up. Mota is the intended location of the school for the blind that we hope to establish, in part trough proceeds from this documentary. After Mota, we embark for the small town of Mertule Maryam, supposedly comparable to an "town with one stop sign," and the last town before we head to Esubalew's mother's village that has navicable roads.

Leaving the comfort of our vehicle, we'll be heading out on foot towards Inesa, the small village near the beautiful Blue Nile River where Esubalew grew up, where he played games with his younger sister, Etagegnehu, and where he saw his mother, Yitashu, for the last time, 16 years ago. This part of our journey promises to be one of the most memorable events of our lives: the reunification of mother and son, in the midst friends and family who live in this grass hut village.

At this point, Karla plans to leave Esubalew and I at his mother's village. She will return to Gondar to attend business she has with World of Good, and we will stay in Inesa for a few days, with an interpreter, we hope. Esubalew no longer speaks Amharic, the native language of his home, so we will be quite lost without one.

After what we hope is an enjoyable time in Inesa, we will depart for Debra Markos, where we will visit another school for the blind, where 97 vision impaired students live and study. The Denver-based non-profit organization Door of Hope Eto Ministry for the Blind works to fund this school, supplying them with food, clothing, and educational materials for the students there. This is the same organization that Esubalew is working with to build a school for the blind in the town of Mota, the largest city nearest to Inesa where he grew up. We hope to deliver some needed supplies to the school, as well as visit with the faculty and students there.

Esubalew and I will conclude our journey together by traveling back north to Bahir Dar and then Gondar to meet back up with Karla. Perhaps we will do some sightseeing in these two historic cities. I would love to see the Simian National Park where some endemic species of animals exist. I will return alone to Addis Abeba with a day all to myself to explore, and then I come back home. Esubalew will stay in Ethiopia for a few more weeks to visit with his mother some more and enjoy the culture of his people.