Soddo-Addis-Soddo
Local transport
It’s Thursday. The whole orthodox Ethiopia is preparing for holidays. It’s the baptizing of Jesus holiday, which ends with a big procession on Monday.
I have been sitting in the cafe in front of the Bekele Mola hotel for an hour now to take a minibus to the capital. Since the minibuses are the most common, though an illegal means of transport to get to Addis, I reserve my patience for the following hours.
Two exhausting weeks have passed, I bask in complete peace. Not a single thought in my head. After two and a half hours somebody waves at me. I move towards the waver and suddenly my luggage is on the head of a helper. In 200 meters I reach an alley. There are already about thirteen people waiting like me on the side of the road sitting on white pieces of paper. It seems that this is the departure terminal for the buses. I settle myself sitting on my suitcase. It is the first time in five years when total gawking doesn’t bring a single negative thought to my head.
I was aware that only God knows when the bus will start for Addis. Anyways He started to whisper to my ear that He has a way better plan for me today. I take it easy and keep sitting on my suitcase sipping on my bottle of water. The next two hours I spent doing just that with great compassion towards those who do not realise that there are buses that do start going at the time promised, with minute accuracy.
Suddenly I realise that maybe missing the bus is more stupid, especially when it slips away from underneath your eyes with minute accuracy. In Estonia this happens a lot. I have contemplated on many kinds of things within the past few hours. It seems as if the whisper in my ears is getting ripe.
I call Mati and Lauri and tell them that I am not in Addis, but still on the side of the road in Soddo, out of water and very hungry. Since the evening has arrived the others are hungry as well and the day ends in the company of big Estonian family eating lamb. My next possibility to go to the capital is one o’clock at night.
Addis
I tried forgetting all prejudices. I knew I would make it to my point destination eventually.
The phone actually rang at night and the bus was in front of the hotel. Though there was no place for a big suitcase it was chucked into the bus somehow. I sat at the best seat next to the driver and didn’t wake up before six in the morning when we had reached Addis. Stepping out the bus the temperature was plus 5 degrees centigrade.
I had reached civilization a.k.a. Karin’s home. It seemed that I am not going to be going anywhere during the weekend from the garden where nobody would shout, argue nor sing. Three weeks without a moment of silence had turned me into an individualist. I enjoyed the silence so much that I was just grateful and grateful and grateful.
Back to Soddo
The whole Monday the parade was being prepared. Driver who was supposed to go to Soddo didn’t speak a word of English. Organizing went through Soddo and through a translator. Again it was necessary to hurry to the “terminal” which was a random street, to pick up the passengers while hiding from the goverment auhority. From the last 4,5 hours waiting period I only spent 3 on the street. Changing the location from time to time along with the bus picking up passangers from cafes and bars. Time had passed to evening once again when we could finally start the journey with good speed since the streets were empty because of the festivities.
Having driven 2,5 hours it was time for the 30 to 45 minute lunch which always takes place in the same city and restaurant. I walked for about a few dozen minutes around the bus when the driver asked me to sit in the bus. Between me and the driver an nice young lady was sitting but she had not yet gone into the bus. Having taken my seat my travelling companion appeared. I got my self out of the bus and let her take her seat. Within few minutes the lady next to me started waving her arms, mouth full of water. Once again I started to get out of my seat, but then I realized from her waving her arms that this wasn’t what I was supposed to do. I only needed to open the door. I interpreted her wishes from her body language. The mouthwasing water was spat out over me. I closed the door afterwards and didn’t give an expression that everything isn’t allright I felt someone observing me. It was one of the passengers, who wished for me to open the door once again. I was doing this exact thing for the fourth time within last five minutes. I was hoping no one wants to chat with me for whatever reason. The person knocking was only concerned for my well-being. He only wanted to know if everything is allright. Though I tried to rise above the shouting, mouthwashing and many other unpleasant things I couldn’t conceal my emotions well enough.
I mumbled that everything is okay. I came across my sad face from the right hand rear view mirror. Why am I not laughing with the other passengers and always notice the things that are so different from what I am accustomed to? Why am I not pleased that the bus did start moving already after 3 hours of gawking?
Then somebody suddenly pulled my hair so hard by accident that for a moment tears wanted to roll down my cheeks. It felt as if I am a ruined product of my society who pouts at every little inconvenience.
In the dark of the bus I was typing my emotions, that will pass my mind once we get to Soddo, into my phone.
I will hardly ever remember the commotion on the bus. I have experienced it all repeatedly and still I find myself here, in the south, far from the “Truth and Justice”.
MERLE
