Before I came over to Ethiopia I had not really given a lot of thought to the setting I would find myself in.  Probably a good thing since it all changed at the last minute anyway.  When I first met the Dean of the college in Addis as part of the orientation he told me that it was green down in Adola, but that still hadn’t really prepared me for what I experienced on both the drive down and in the surroundings of Adola.  It is indeed very green and the scenery stretches as far as the eye can see.

The biggest surprise was probably how many trees there are, not least on the campus itself- it’s almost like living in the middle of a forest.  It didn’t take long living here to realise why it was so green- there is clearly some connection with the amount of rain.  Remove from your mind images of life in a drought-struck village, and imagine instead my working on the building of an ark.  The weather has certainly made an effort to make me feel at home, although I don’t really think it was necessary to receive the entire UK’s annual rainfall in two days.

As this entry continues I fear I shall destroy some other images of my life here in Adola.  Living on the campus of the college has certain advantages.  Had you considered that I was living in some rustic mud hut, with thatched roof, then I am afraid I shall have to disappoint.  The construction is concrete and even has several rooms, but panic not- any mental visions of my trying to survive without running water are well founded.

However, this may not be forever.  The facilities are already in place, all that is required is to connect the college to some water source.  This will take only two months.  Sadly it is not clear which two months this will be and the vice-dean confirmed, not too long ago, that it was unlikely to be this year.  Fortunately a donkey does a great job of bringing jerry cans to the college filled with water and I have made firm friends with the young lad whose job it is to guide the donkey.

Now I am unsure how drinkable this water is, suffice to say it is boiled at least once and filtered (although I have my doubts about the filter since discovering particles floating in the lower half of the filtering system).  Often I will boil it again, just to be sure… so far there have been no ill effects – and don’t worry I shan’t go into detail if that changes.

My home is lightly furnished, but comfortable.  I did some rearranging to get the furniture how I liked it, but this has been altered a few times because of my Serategna.

In Ethiopia it is not unusual to have a worker, this is usually a lady, who completes various household tasks, such as cleaning, laundry and cooking.  This is something that some volunteers are keener on than others, mainly from the perspective that it is a chance to put some money into the local economy and help give employment.  In a country where unemployment is extremely high I see this as a good thing.  It also has the added advantage that the serategna can purchase the necessary food items to provide the meals.  Of course this means missing out on the joy of wandering the markets and the shops as well as missing out on the opportunity to pay the special foreigner price…

Naturally it is for all the good reasons that I have made this hiring and nothing to do with my skills in the kitchen or lack of a washing machine…

So far we seem to be getting on well.  She speaks very little English, but has managed to get the stuff done that is needed and I have taught her how to make porridge.  The only thing is she did keep moving my furniture around, clearly I am the boss and know how I want things and am sure I can make this clear with time, but for now I’ll, err, just leave it as it is…

Monday, my first full day in Adola and my first day at work, did not involve much work or even much time at work.  I was given an induction as required by VSO.  That is to say I was taken on a tour of the college campus, the highlight being a rat running through the drains.  Then on into the town, partly to buy food, I didn’t have any, and partly to set about a few of the tasks needed when setting up a new place.

First stop was the post office and here I was fortunate to make a new friend; the postmaster of Adola, who most helpful in the setting up of a P.O. Box. Ethiopia does not deliver to the door, but relies instead on banks of lockable cubbyholes.  Large parcels are stored behind the counter, small parcels too for that matter.  Not much would fit in one of these little boxes.

The post office has already become, along with the wonderful Abera Hotel (see last post), one of my most visited spots in Adola.  I have not yet dared to peek into the box for fear of opening it and finding it empty, but have managed to make use of the Post office’s services to send a few letters, much to the surprise of the Vice-Dean- “Why don’t you just send an email?”

For those of you who appreciate the merits of more traditional methods of communication here is my address:

P.O.Box 43
Adola/Kibre Mengist Post Office
Oromia
Ethiopia

The postmaster, however, always seems pleased to have me visit and is already ready with a warm welcome and a friendly smile as well as an attempt to teach me a few Amharic phrases.  Each time I entrust my post to him and he somehow manages to attach the plethora of stamps required to send the letter.

Send something!  When I finally check I want the box to be positively overflowing, after all this service is costing me over £2/ year.

The second stop was the shops and I loaded up my bag with items I had failed to purchase in Addis Ababa.  All this was done with the help and negotiating skills of the Vice-Dean.  I am not convinced that he helped me to make a big saving, but he certainly did a better job than I could have done.

The final stop, not including coffee breaks, was at the Commercial Bank of Ethiopia.  As instructed by VSO I ventured in to open a bank account.  This was after having to leave my bag stuffed with all kinds of goodies with the armed guard at the door.  At least it was well protected.

We had been told during our orientation that all we needed was our VSO card and two passport photos.  Now, I don’t know if it was something to do with the status of my companion, the Vice-Dean (the college seems to have a lot of clout around town), or the fact that I had a copy of my passport with me, but the process seemed much smoother than the experiences of other volunteers.  VSO take heed, the VSO card was of no interest whatsoever to the bank, but the passport copy did seem sufficient.  However, when I attempted to ask about money being paid into the account, the worker at the bank seemed to misunderstand and thought I was talking about money from the UK.  This didn’t seem to be possible.

I have given the details to the VSO finance team and when the first allowance is due to be deposited I shall see if it actually arrives.  If you hear of a foreigner begging in the streets of Adola….send help.

At least I know the method: “You! You! Money!”

Eager anticipation glints in my eyes, there is almost an air of excitement.  Before me lies my destiny, my future:  Adola College of Teacher Education.  The place that is to be my home for the next two years.  Gates bar the way, but they are opened as I approach and I am welcomed across the threshold by the gentlemen whose job it is to guard the entrance to the college.  The barbed wire atop the fence creates a slight sense of incarceration, but I bat this back as I walk the path to my new home.  The Dean and Vice-Dean are here to welcome me, although they seem a little surprised – “We didn’t expect you until tomorrow”.

Nevertheless, the welcome is warm and even extends to the Dean offering me one of his jerry cans of water as I have none at home, nor do I know how to get it.  I put this high on my list of things to find out – water is important.

Lack of water is not my only problem, I also have no food.  This is initially solved by an invitation from the Dean and Vice-Dean to dinner at the finest hotel in town- the Abera Hotel.  It might even by so classy an establishment to have been listed with a star, but I doubt it.  Still, it is the best Adola has to offer and I am clearly to be treated.

The main road through town.

The first impressions of a town stick with you and if I am to be brutally honest (unlike me I know) Adola has little to offer to please the eye, nor to entertain the mind.  It is in essence a road with buildings either side.  It is true that some dirt tracks head off from the main sealed, but mud bedecked road, but there seems to be little to appeal to the casual visitor.  However, I would focus on what it does have.  There is a bank, a post office, a number of small shops, selling a passable range of usable products a few churches and mosques and a bus station.  Oh and the Abera Hotel… I have come to believe that this is the town’s best attraction, but there are more buildings and there could be some serious competition for this place soon (by which I mean the next 10-15 years).

A side street

What Adola lacks in charm and entertainment it makes up for in donkeys and people.  The former of which there are a plentiful supply, the latter are friendly and helpful and certainly a combination of interesting characters.

My first stroll into town was accompanied by frequent curious glances and shouts of children calling out “You! You! You!” to gain my attention.  On one or two occasions this was followed by a very half-hearted “money!” As if they already knew the futility of it and it certainly lacked the persistence and hassle that I have previously experienced in Addis or Hawassa.

Now, nearly three weeks after arriving here I have noticed a decided drop in the attention I am receiving here.  I have walked into the town enough to be an increasingly familiar sight.  I reckon in a few months that they won’t even be able to distinguish me from a local… once I get a handle on the local language that is.