Mosque Archives - Page 3 of 4

Africa Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

El Jem

On my second day in Sousse I decided to visit El Jem, a small city about an hour away, which is notable for its fairly well-preserved amphitheater dating to ~230. I know I just said i was over Roman ruins, but this isn’t ruins per se, it’s a structure, not rubble.

I had a bit of time before the train so I walked around some more and followed a small tour group of Germans into the courtyard of the great mosque.

I took the train, which was cheap and pleasant. The scenery wasn’t much to look at – dry land, cacti, boxy villages, and rows upon rows of olive trees. In El Jem, it was easy to figure out where to go: walk towards the giant amphitheater.

It really was quite impressive. It held about 30,000 spectators in its day, all there to see battle between men and beasts. It was fun to scramble around on the various levels and explore the tunnels underground where the combatants waited for their (presumably final) moments.

It is very much like the Colosseum in Rome, but just a bit smaller, with FAR fewer tourists, and 100% more camels.

While there i ran into a girl I had met in Tunis, from Shanghai and traveling solo. We hung out together for a while, walking the site and having coffee.

Then it was time to return to Sousse. And that is when the misadventure began. The train was not running again until after 6pm, and even then was not going to Sousse, but to a nearby town. The main bus station was missing, as was any information about it. So we decided to take the louage – a shared minivan, lie a marshrutka – very common for locals. The girl I was with had taken it to El Jem and had not had any problems, so we walked to the station. One louage was just leaving for Sousse (full). There was no way to know when another would arrive, but there were at least 39 people waiting. The way they work is the van leaves when full, but each van only holds 8 people, so it looked like we might be there a while. I tried to convince a taxi to drive us (and was prepared to pay handsomely for it) but no one would agree. Back to the louage station and even more people were waiting to go to Sousse. We quickly realized that there was no order to the boarding of the louage. When one arrived for Sousse, people rushed at it, cramming and pushing on. It was mayhem. I realized that if i was going to get to Sousse, I was going to have to take extreme measures.

The next time a louage with the Sousse sign on it drove into the station, I and others, ran towards the vehicle, while it was driving. One guy opened the panel door and jumped in, while the vehicle drove. Then a girl and her friend. Then i grabbed on to the seat back, pulled myself in, and my temporary traveling companion followed. As we did so, other people tried to push us out of the way so they could do the same. By the time the van came to a stop, it was already full. It may not have been driving super fast, but I still felt like a low level action hero.

Once on board, a full on argument broke out between the two women sitting behind us and the driver. There was yelling in Arabic happening for like 5 minutes. The whole time, I was stressed that we were going to be kicked off for some minor infraction. One of the women was lightly slapped in the face by some man. Then things were quiet and we left, my heart beating.

Following that melee, the evening was relaxing. I had some super spicy, Tunisian vegetable dish, followed by shisha at a kind of fancy salon de thé. Then I went to bed, because the next morning I was being picked up at 3:30am for a flight to France..and then back to Tunisia.

Africa Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

Sousse

I caught a morning bus from Tunis to Sousse. An easy trip, a little more than two hours. About $4. The scenery wasn’t great, but it was relaxing…well, sort of. I surrounded by a school group of children going to some pro-Palestine event. Loud singing and horseplay. Them, not me.

In Sousse, south on the coast from Tunis, I walked from the train station to the medina and found my hotel, the Hotel Medina, just behind the great mosque. Nothing makes me feel as capable and independent than arriving in a new city where I cannot speak the language and finding my way with a map.

The weather was perfect and the city begged to be explored. Sousse dates back to about 9th century BCE and is centred around a walled medina just blocks away from the harbour. The medina is smaller than the one in Tunis but is no less interesting, the souq is bustling with mostly locals and the streets are filled with vendors selling nuts and sweet treats, kids playing ball, and people going about their daily lives.

It is a tourist destination due to the beaches and resort hotels, though they are quiet at the moment. It is warm, but not quite beach weather and tourism is still suffering after the 2015 terrorist attack where about 30 people were killed when gunmen started shooting at one of the beach resorts.

I walked the medina, browsed the souqs, and walked up the beach aways; plenty of locals were enjoying the sun and sand. I did get lost for a while, due to a bird which shit on my map, rending one part of it indiscernible. I went to the ribat (an 8th century fort) and climbed the watchtower, which provided excellent views of the city and into the courtyard of the great mosque.

Aside from the miles of walking, it was a pretty chill day, which I finished with vegetable couscous on a patio and a cigar sitting on a step outside of the mosque. While I could always spend more time, a day in Sousse is sufficient, which is good because the next day I would be going to El Jem.

Africa Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

Arrival in Tunisia

I didn’t have any particular reason for choosing Tunisia, other than that I love Islamic countries and Tunisia is small enough to be manageable in two weeks, but also has a mix of desert, sea, history, and culture.

My flight from Zurich to Tunis was cancelled and the the new flight was delayed, so instead of arriving in the morning, I was arriving late at night. I don’t like getting into a strange city at night. I’m tired, the city seems weird, info booths and money changers are closed, and public transit is not running regularly or at all. So I wasn’t happy about that, but at least I had arrived. I went outside to the taxi stand and haggled them down from 40 to 20 dinars (still too much, but reasonable) and was glad to be en route to my hostel in the medina.

The car drove into the medina until the road became too narrow. The driver called the hostel and someone was going to walk down and fetch me as it is a bit of a maze. I handed the driver two 10 dinar notes and 3 dinar coins. The driver paused, did something with his hands and told me I had only given him one 10 dinar note. I was annoyed. I knew I had given him two because I looked at each of them as I took them out of my wallet as I am not familiar with the currency. I got out of the car. He got out of the car. We argue. He insisted i am trying to stiff him. I insisted he is mistaken (but I am certain he is lying). Finally, as the guy from the hostel arrived, I gave in and gave the driver another 10 – still insisting that the ‘error’ was not mine. I was just tired and wanted to go. I walked off with the guy from the hostel. About 3 minutes later, the driver came running up to us and gave me 10 dinars. He said he found it in the front seat. Faith in taxi drivers restored. Seriously. He didn’t have to come back and give me the money. This bodes well for Tunisia.

After that, it was midnight and I basically went to bed.

The next day, I was able to appreciate my accommodations. The Dar-El Hostel. Tucked away in the maze of the medina on a narrow street, behind one of Tunis’ ubiquitous blue studded doors, the interior is covered in tiles and is about 200 or 300 years old. My room is enormous and cozy at the same time.

I had planned to spend the first day exploring the medina and the colonial section beyond. As i was leaving the hostel, the fellow from the hotel was walking two young chaps to the train station, so i tagged along for the walk and accompanied my guide back to the medina entrance, chatting along the way about life in Tunisia, about how I should be open to having a relationship, and the Fast and Furious movies. A wide ranging conversation.

Then I was on my own. I walked the length of Habib Bouguiba street, which is lined with grand, French architecture in a variety of styles and rows of sidewalk cafes. The street meant to look like Champs Elysees, and it is, except that it is charming.

I had an espresso at a café. The great thing here is that you can order a coffee, for like $1, and sit there for ages. I saw so many people, locals, sitting for an hour or more after they finished their coffee. It was great for people watching.

I then visited the big cathedral, stopped for an obligatory touristy selfie, and headed into the medina. Medinas are basically really old walled cities and are tangled webs of streets, paths, lanes, and alleys in no discernible order. This medina dates back to the 7th century and it shows. It feels ancient. In places the stones are worn down to smooth, rounded slivers, like well-used bars of soap. The walls are high and imposing, to keep enemies out. Today the walled streets hide homes, courtyards, mosques, and restaurants. Some of the passages are quiet and with nothing to see other than doorways (exquisite though they are here); others are lined with market stalls selling touristy items, spices, hookahs, clothing, soap, herbs…et cetera.

It is all fascinating to explore. A map may be of some use, but it is better to just walk and explore without purpose. Eventually you will hit a wall or landmark from which to orientate yourself.

I walked for hours. Eventually i stopped at this super charming cafe (photos do not do it justice) and smoked shisha, watching people walking past.

There are tourists here, but not a lot, which is nice. My basic French is passable, but many people also speak English, as well as Arabic. All of my clothing (both outfits) are appropriate here. Some women dress very conservatively (long, loose dress or coat and veil), but most just wear a headscarf, and some none at all. There is just no exposed arms and legs that I have seen, which suits me just fine. In fact, as long as i have my tattoos covered and my sunglasses on, I don’t even stand out as a tourist, which keeps the market merchants at bay.

I am happy to report that, after Zurich, Tunis seems like a budget paradise. Last night I had a freshly baked mini pizza for $1.50, coffee for 50c, and bought bread, cheese, an orange, and a yogurt drink from the super market for $3.00. (Those who know me know i love wandering foreign supermarkets due to a weird box of cereal I once saw in Tel Aviv. Here, I note that almost all of the boxed breakfast cereals are chocolate and there was an ENTIRE aisle at the market I visited devoted to halva.)

After a bit of a rest, I went for a late night walk in the medina (careful not to get lost this time) and smoked a cigar on the steps of a mosque, watching cats walk the alleys looking for food. Other than that it was quiet.

I think this cheesy photo says it all.

Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Europe Turkey

13 hours in Istanbul

I said good bye to Burkina Faso and flew to Istanbul, arriving at about 7:00 am and having a 13 hour layover. This was perfect. I love Istanbul, but had not been there since my 2009 Turkey trip. I paid for a visa and passed swiftly through immigration. Then i was on the Metro. I switched to the tram and about an hour and a half after landing i was in Sultanahmet, gazing on the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sophia.

The city looked in many ways as i remembered, and the basic layout was easy to navigate. I wandered around and found myself on a street that looked like a cleaned up version of the street on which i spent every evening seven years ago, smoking shisha. There were lots of restaurants and i seated myself at the one which most appealed. During my breakfast, chatting with the waiter, i learned that this was the street i remembered, and that it had just gotten fancier. I remembered that there is a picture of me on the blog from my last trip to Istanbul, standing with a hookah in front of my regular joint. I pulled it up and the waiter called the owner over and it was the same place. It had changed a bit, but was basically the same and i had gravitated to it without knowing. This earned me free coffee in exchange for the promise to return again someday.

Istanbul is definitely cleaner and more organized that i remember. Better street signs and more tourist infrastructure. More international shops. These things detract a bit from the atmosphere, but it is still a great city. I love walking the streets past all of the super appealing shops selling scarves, lanterns, hookahs, and pottery. I love the cafes and the ubiquitous cats. And the exquisite calls to prayer that echo out over the city.

It was chilly, especially compared to Burkina Faso, but the cool air felt so refreshing.

I got lured into a lengthy Turkish coffee session with a carpet seller, which was pleasant and i managed to walk carpet-less, which is a small victory.

I then headed for the Grand Bazaar, where i became wonderfully lost amongst the stalls of crafts, handiwork, spices, and sweets. I then had mint tea with a seller of meerschaum pipes. I did not leave empty handed this time.

I finished the day off down my the Blue Mosque again, with a hookah of double apple shisha and just relaxed until i felt it was time to return to the airport.

A delightful day. I hope it is not another seven years before i return.

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

Bobo-Dioulasso

I awoke at 4:30 this morning to catch a flight from Ouagadougou to Bobo-Dioulasso, or “Bobo” as it is called with affection. It is the second largest city in Burkina Faso and while it is definitely a city, it has a small town vibe and is entirely pleasant. I politely declined the friendly advances of airport security, piled into a taxi with 5 other people and their mountain of luggage and was delivered to my oasis of a hotel, the Villa Rose. It really is wonderful, comfortable, and surrounded by gardens and statues. As i sit here now, it is dark, with lights in the trees and a background din of squeaking bats.

Anyway, the hotel is owned by a lovely Dutch woman and her Burkinabe husband and they could not be more welcoming or helpful. I also chatted with another Dutch man who is here helping to establish a school.

Bobo is very manageable on foot. Many streets are the usual chaos of motor bikes, bicycles, cars, carts, and pedestrians all sharing the road, but it is tame compared to other places.

I first visited the market, which i liked a lot more than the one in “Ouaga” (as the cool kids call it). Fried caterpillars seems to be a popular item here, which makes me happy i am a vegetarian. I took more photos and received very little hassle from merchants. I find the women here a bit more outgoing than i am used to. They will actually say hello and chat a bit, which is nice. Usually i find when i leave a country almost all of my interactions have been with men.

After the market, i found the bus station and bought a ticket for the day after tomorrow to my next destination. Every successful transaction, especially in a foreign language feels like a victory. My delight amused the ticket seller.

From there i went to the mosque. It is probably the most famous building in Burkina Faso. It is in a style of architecture called Sunado-Sahaelian which has round peaks and sticks protruding all over the outside. This mosque dates from the late 1800s.

As i arrived the call to prayer was underway, so i waited outside until prayers ended snd then i was allowed to enter, which was a treat, as unmarried Burkinabe women are prohibited from entering, but apparently single foreigners are not.

From there i visited the old city, Dioulassoba. People live there and you can walk right into it, but foreigners must take a guide and pay a small fee, which makes sense, because the area is very poor and the guides can explain the history while keeping the looky loos under control. The area is all low, flat, mud buildings and is divided into quarters: Muslim, animist, musicians, and blacksmiths. I visited traditional houses and the place where animals (usually chickens) are ritualistically slaughtered. (The bigger your problem, the bigger the chicken or creature that must meet its fate, i was told.) we saw a blacksmiths studio, a weaver, a carver of masks, and the place where millet beer is made after bring boiled on a fire for three days. In the streets, people carried on with their days, drying corn, pounding farina, doing laundry.

We also went to the river that borders the village. It would be pretty but for the mounds of garbage tossed along the banks. In the river is a swarm of giant catfish. Hideous things, thrashing about in the shallow water. But these are sacred catfish. Almost magical catfish. (My reference to General Sherman from The Simpsons was lost on my guide.) People worship them and talk to them. Apparently, if you want to live in the village you must offer food to them and if the carps eat it, you can stay. If they do not, you are not pure of heart and must leave.

And that was my visit to the village. After that i returned to the hotel and have been enjoying dinner and the evening air. A great day. Tomorrow i shall endeavour to relax.

Asia India Nepal Trip 2016

A lost afternoon in Delhi

I tried to sleep off my sickness; a plan that was partly successful. I awoke a bit less achy and a bit hungry. Moving slowly, I had breakfast at the hostel. The rooftop was crowded full of young backpackers, traveling in large groups or as couples. I did find one other solo traveler to chat with and we swapped stories over our puri, bread, and bananas.

Today there were just a couple of things I wanted to see, but mostly I was looking forward to the journey. I took the Metro south (i am seriously in love with this metro system – cheap, easy to navigate, women-only cars, and the trains come every minute, literally. Signage told me that obstructing the metro car doors can land you four years in prison, but I can see why with that marvelous efficiency.) I got off near the Lodi Gardens, which i wanted to visit, and promptly turned in the wrong direction and spent the next hour lost, wandering through some quasi-residential neighbourhood, which was quite pleasant – leafy and a bit quiet with a slightly diminished cacophony of horns.

So I walked back to the metro station, this time turning right instead of left, and went to the lovely and leafy Lodhi gardens, which are dotted with mausoleums, ice cream vendors, and couples laying in the grass. I walked around for a while and then napped on a bench under a tree.

I then walked on a busy and uninspired road forever before stumbling upon the Lodhi Hotel, where I ducked in for a cigar and a beverage. The hotel is super fancy and i was sure I would be denied entry, but they welcomed me and set me up in a pretty courtyard with birds and statues, and i smoked a Cohiba Behike and generally chilled out.

Back on the street i walked and was trying to find Hazrat Nizam-ud-din Dargah (a shrine) I never did find it but I sure had a great time looking. I ended up in a labyrinthine marketplace, which was very clearly in the Muslim part of town. The signs had switched to Arabic, the men wore tradition Middle Eastern clothes, and the women were covered head to toe to fingertip in black (a color choice I can get behind), with not even slits for their eyes (a visual impairment i cannot). The market was great. Crowded and noisy. People selling carpets and wall hangings with passages from the Koran, halal butchers, sellers of dates and bananas. I had a great wander, but then I turned one corner and a bunch of men started shouting at me. Not angrily, but with urgency. I had stumbled into some entrance to a holy area, I think, but I couldn’t discern if they wanted me to take off my shoes or leave because it was men only. Either way, I politely backed up and turned around, but before leaving I bought a toothbrush, as I had dropped mine in a pool of stagnant water next to a toilet that morning.

From there I went to Humayun’s Tomb (which is not located on the lonely planet map as indicated) and visited the mid-16th C complex of tombs and gardens. It was beautiful.

I hired a tuk tuk (haggling successfully and theatrically) to take me back to the nearest Metro station and i returned to the hostel where I napped for too long. It is now 11pm and I am sitting on a balcony drinking ginger lemon honey tea and watching the activities in the street. The air is perfect and i feel good.
Tomorrow I leave for Kathmandu.

Asia India Nepal Trip 2016

Hello, Delhi

My trip to Nepal starts in New Delhi. The flights I was looking at at all went through New Delhi, so I thought i should spend a few days there. I hadn’t been to India before. I have wanted to but just hadn’t made it. Too many places within it to visit made it intimidating to try to cram in to 2-3 weeks, but on this trip I can at least see Delhi.

I arrived after over 24 hrs of travel, flying through Shanghai. I landed in New Delhi at 2am, but by the time I made it through immigration, baggage, and money changing it was 3:30. I took a rickety taxi to my hostel. The drive was great. The air was warm and the traffic light so we sped through the streets, with the driver telling me about the Holi festival, helping me with my Hindi, and spotting monkeys. We also smoked in the taxi. An invitation to smoke in a taxi is always welcome.

As we drove into the area where my hostel is in the main bazaar area of Pahar Ganj, the streets narrowed and we dodged early morning rickshaws, people sleeping in the streets, piles of stuff, and cows chilling out eating scraps left over from the market. I took all of this that i was staying in the right area.

My hostel is the Smyle Inn, a modest budget hostel on a narrow side street. I have a room which lacks any charm and while it doesn’t look it, i believe it to be clean. The staff are very nice and helpful and there is a free breakfast. I am content.

I slept for 2 hours, ate and headed out.

The streets that had been quiet a few hours earlier were and are now wonderful madness. A whirlwind of rickshaws, tuk tuks, scooters, bicycles, vendors with carts of food and other items, medium sized brown dogs, and pedestrians. No sidewalks, so i snaked my way through it all, brushing against the people and motorists.

I made my way to the nearest metro station and rode a few stops north into Old Delhi, which is all the chaos of the previous neighbourhood, but intensified. Men called out constantly, wanting me to take their rickshaws, wanting money, trying to sell my things, or just wanting to talk. This will grow tiresome, but today i minded it not at all. That being said, their was one boy who followed me for blocks. He spoke no English but walked too close and chattered to me. I shooed him away repeatedly and with increasing sternness. Finally, when I though he was gone, he grabbed my ass and ran off.

I walked through a market, past a bird hospital (imagining parrots with tiny wing casts and crutches), and went to the Red Fort, one of New Delhi’s main attractions. It was a complex of lovely buildings set in a peaceful park. It was pleasant but not amazing.

From there i walked for ages, convinced i could find my was to Jama Masjid, India’s largest mosque. Miraculously, despite the dearth of street signs, i found it. It is a massive mosque, teeming with tourists. Beautiful, but not on par with those of Egypt or Uzbekistan. The tourists detracted from the solemnity i think. I did relish in the mandatory shoe removal, wandering in stocking feet on the worn, warm stones.

I went back out into the streets. I walked, again for ages, to Connaught Place, a very British designed, circular shopping complex, with wide sidewalks, and a nice park in the centre, where i sat under a tree for a while, people watching.

I then walked, stopped for lunch at a vegetarian restaurant where i was overwhelmed with options, and walked down to the India gate where throngs of people strolled around and sat in the park or splashed and bathed in the pools in the park.

At this point it was only afternoon, but i was exhausted. I took the metro back to my neighbourhood through more markets and then for a nap.

A note about the metro. It is great. Cheap, fast, and there are stations all over the city. You have to go through metal detectors and get wanded to board, but the security does not seem very thorough. Each train has a car just for women. I rode the train three times today. The first time i rode in a regular car, which is just like riding in any crowded subway. The second two times i rode in the ladies’ car, which i think i will do from now on. It is far less crowded and it smells infinitely better. Plus, there are no men chatting me up.

I am amazed by the women here, how dressed up they are in beautifully coloured saris, with glittering jewelry and sandals, exquisitely long hair, and beautiful makeup. I felt so scruffy by comparison.

After my nap i went out for a stroll and to a restaurant for some dal and tea and a cigar on a nice second storey balcony, overlooking the street, enjoying a cigar.

Before coming here everyone told me how bad the city smelled, but this has not been my experience today. Sure, sometimes i would pass a spot that reeked of urine or body odor or exhaust, but more often i was treated to the wonderful smells of strong incense, roses, and frying chilies and spices. No complaints here.

Ready for bed now. Tomorrow i head to Agra for the day.

Africa Ethiopia Ethiopia Trip 2015

Hararian Hospitality

Today in Harar started with rain but quickly dried out leaving the air cool and perfect for walking.

I returned to the old city and embarked on a new route. I visited the other church in Harar (there are 2 churches and countless mosques – well, actually someone told me there are 99 mosques, but i have not fact checked that) and several tiny mosques, which were virtually hidden behind walls and houses.

I could wander here for ages. It’s like a medieval Muslim maze. You turn down these tiny alleys with no idea where they will lead: to someone’s house, a dead end, a bustling market, one of the gates into the city, a mosque…it’s endlessly fascinating.

I visited the Harar coffee roasting company, where the coffee smelled amazing, but coming in 1 kilo bags, i don’t think I’ll be bringing any home. I went to the Shoa gate, which is now my favourite of the six gates into the old city. It is a crowded market place with people selling vegetables and fruit, bread and meat. There are also a few women cooking and serving food while seated on the ground. One woman saw me looking and said “ful”, which i have only ever has as a breakfast dish in Egypt. It is mashed beans cooked with tomato, onion and spices. After some communication issues i managed to ask and understand that it was 5 birr (about 25 cents). The woman mashed the ingredients in a tiny pot over hot coals and then it was ready to eat with a piece of bread for dipping. Delicious.

I hadn’t seen much in the way of street food here until that. Just samosas, French fries, and a few sweets.

After lunch i went back to the coffee place to meet up with a guy i had met there as we had made plans for coffee and shisha. We went to his friend’s house, which was basically two rooms with an outdoor cooking area and toilet. Inside, 5 guys were reclined on a cushion covered floor, chewing chat. Chat is a plant, or rather the leaves of a plant, that is ubiquitous here (in other countries as well – and especially Yemen, I’m told, but Harar is the first place I’ve seen it). It is sold by the bagful on the streets and everywhere you see people chewing it, often while reclined, the effects are reportedly increased wakefulness and pensive thought and if you chew enough of it you achieve ‘merkana’ (spelled phonetically), a peaceful and relaxed state. The guy whose house it was gave me a handful to try. It tastes awful, bitter, like a vegetable that you shouldn’t eat. Often they chew peanuts with it to kill the taste. One handful was enough for me. I did not notice any effects.

Then they started the coffee ceremony. There was a young woman who did all of the work (of course). She took a pot of hot coals and sprinkled incense on it. Then she took another pan of coals and, using a shallow pan, roasted fresh coffee beans. This smelled amazing. Then she took the pan outside and pounded the beans into a fine powder with a heavy metal rod. Then, very slowly, the coffee was mixed with water in a clay pitcher and heated over a fire. The coffee was served in tiny cups ad, oh my god, it was the best, freshest coffee ever. This was repeated until everyone had 3 cups – they said you need 3 cups: one for the eyes, one for satisfaction, and one to think “all of the thoughts”.

All if this occurred while we smoked shisha and listened to music – a mix of traditional Egyptian, Swahili hip hop, and Lil Wayne. The whole experience lasted about 3 and a half hours and was very relaxing, a great experience.

Africa Ethiopia Ethiopia Trip 2015

Harar: The Old City

I keep reading that Harar is “the fourth holiest city is Islam”. I don’t know if this is true, but it is a Muslim city and has an extraordinary, walled old town which is crammed with tiny mosques and shrines, and women covered head to toe in colorful dress.

Harar was founded in either the 10thC or 13thC and its old walled city, which has 368 alleyways in a 1sq kilometer space is absolutely magical. The alleys wind their way around courtyarded residences, tiny mosques, shrines, markets, shops, and churches, and the streets are lined by women selling vegetables and chat, roasting coffee, and weaving baskets. Men and children tend to cows and goats. The buildings, which have a slight Flintstonian quality in their shape and construction and ether white or painted bright hues. Everything begs to be photographed, except that people aren’t keen on it, and i can’t say i blame them. They’re not putting on a show. They’re just getting on with their lives.

I walked around aimlessly for hours and still didn’t see everything, but this is why i gave myself more an one day here. I wanted to be at liberty be at leisure.

One thing that gets a bit wearing is the friendliness of the people. This is not unique to Ethiopia, but here i am. People are very friendly. Anyone who knows a bit of English wants to say hello and ask where i am from. That is fine, but many of them will just walk along side me and keep talking to me or when i am sitting at a cafe will sit down and just start asking me questions. Some of them are guides looking for business, but most of them just want to talk. I don’t know if this would be different if i was not alone. And of course there are comments from men on my appearance. While it is nice to talk to people to learn about the culture and their experiences, sometimes i just want to be left alone to walk or sit in silence.

Last night i went out for a traditional Ethiopian dinner, which is injera – a large, thin pancake made of tef, which i find both sour and delicious – and on it are dollops of different stews or meats. Fortunately, as Ethiopians have 2 fasting days (vegetarian days) per week, you can order fasting food and get a feast of spicy lentils, different vegetables, and other delights. You eat the food with the injera, but tearing off pieces and using them to pick up the food. No utensils allowed. This suits me quite nicely. It was delicious and very cheap.

I walked back to the hotel after dinner, down streets that were pitch black and filled with large holes and speeding vehicles and people. Like a huge dork, i carried a flashlight, both to make myself visible, to cars and to avoid falling down. I’m sure i was mocked for my cautiousness, but at least i arrived at the hotel in one piece. It did, however, start to pour rain on my walk back and i returned drenched. The rain continues this morning, but appears to be subsiding, so i am waiting a bit over breakfast and blogging.

Speaking of breakfast, i ate outside, under an awning, and watched two men lead three small goats out of a house an into a shed, one by one. It was quite cute. A fourth goat tried to follow, but was ushered back inside the house. Then i heard the horrible, shrill cries of the goats as they were slaughtered. I’m not passing judgment. People can do what they like, but I’ve never actually heard that sound before and don’t care to again. Of course, this is what i travel for: new experiences.