Sat 8 Feb 2014 (1 Yekatit 2006) Dire Dawa

Sat 8 Feb 2014 (1 Yekatit 2006) Dire Dawa A poem: Thirty days the month of Tir For Ethiopians far and near. Thirty, too, in Yekatit: Goodness, what could be more neat? Megabit, Miyaza, Ginbot, Sene, Hamle, Nehase (but not Pagume) Then Meskerem, Tikemet, Hidar, Tahesa: Thirty, near and far. Poor Pagume! It's a filler: Less than a week. Never a thriller. Ethiopia has its own ancient calendar. The Ethiopian Calendar, also called the Ge'ez calendar, has 13 months, 12 of 30 days each and an intercalary month at the end of the year. Pagume has 5 or 6 days depending whether the year is a leap year or not. (Humor us on the Ethiopian calendar references. Thursday, the day we leave, is a special day.) Today we are really slow getting going. We luxuriate in a nice shower and watch some TV. We relax with a good hotel breakfast (Ethiopian eats [even tibs and gomen], Western goodies), served in a busy, stylish dining room. Afterward, we walk down a block to Hotel Blossom and ascertain that they have a room for us tonight (maybe arriving without those backpacks seals the deal). They will accept Mike's credit card in payment. This is helpful because we haven't been able to get any ATMs to accept any of our credit cards. There is a risk that we will run out of cash before the end of the trip (we took only $2000 US for a 27 day trip). We go back to the Ras and use their computer until we have to check out. At 11 AM we say good by to our spiffy Ras room, walk over to Hotel Blossom, and check in. All in all, Blossom is still an expensive hotel in comparison to the ones we have been staying at, but a whole lot cheaper than the Ras Hotel. How can you go wrong at a hotel whose posted motto is, "Where Comfort be True"? In our Blossom room, we have Barbie-cute pink-and-cream porcelain fixtures and a freestanding bidet. There's another glass shower stall. No coffee/tea maker. Good TV (nice to be able an international perspective on last night's Sochi Olympics open ceremony). We have two things we want to accomplish today: (1) visit the Kafira Market; (2) buy tickets on the regular bus to Addis Ababa. A note on the bus tickets: yesterday we had determined that there was no way to get back toward Addis in reasonable time on comfortable transportation - airplane or Selam or Sky Bus. That does not mean that we were unable to get back, only that we were forced into the regular (uncomfortable) buses, which are half the price of the deluxe Selam or Sky buses. More on this later. Dire Dawa has a number of markets, including a market for the purchase of chat, the leaf that folks chew for its a mild sedative effect. The largest of the Dire Dawa markets is the Kafira Market, so we head out and hop on a tuktuk to take a ride to Kafira. There is a "river" running through Dire Dawa. We put the word river in quotation marks because in the dry season there is no water in the Dechatu River - it is more like a sewer/garbage dump. Anyway, to get to the market, you cross the "river" and keep going. We leave the mix of new/old structures that has dominated our Dire Dawa so far: Kezira, the so-called "new" town. We cross a bridge into Megala: old Dire Dawa. Buildings in this part of town run to no more than 2-3 stories, with external walls mostly painted in pastel colors. And there are LOTS of bars. Feels a bit 30s or 40s, a bit rough-edged. Eventually, we are at the market. It sounds like we went a long way, but it was really only about 2 - 2.5 km (1.2 - 1.5 miles). At first, the Kafira Market looks really promising. We see some women with beaded necklaces, with different hairstyles and colorful patterned clothing. Beyond another section of the "river", oxcarts are approaching. Even a camel or two. Both wood and charcoal are for sale, by lots large and small. We head into the fray of the market. Yes: there are some interesting-looking cooking devices and grills (a Big Green Enqulal [Egg], maybe?). One or two people selling a Jebena (clay coffee pot), Gebeta (decorated platter), Mesob (woven hourglass-shaped straw basket on which food is served) or Shakla Dist (traditional clay pot) - all bulky/heavy objects, not backpacker souvenirs. What this market has in abundance: piles of produce, vendors seated on the ground with no walking space between them, and F-L-I-E-S. A little too much authenticity. We walk around gamely for a while. Where are the clothing and craft merchants Carol seeks? So out from the Kafira Market. We walk down the street the tuktuk took, taking a few diversions to side streets. We spot furniture makers and sidewalk tailors, but no interesting shops or inviting eateries. The day warms up. It's more humid, too. By the time we reach the "river" bridge, we're tuckered out. Mike insists that we stop a small restaurant, even if just for a Coke(nothing else tempts us). Coke in hand, we pause at a little plaza across from the restaurant to get our bearings. Surprise: there are people selling leafy bunches of chat; other folks are chewing or sprawling nearby. Welcome to an outpost of the Chattara Market. Carol realizes that we were offered a few sprigs of chat as a gift on two occasions in Harar. We walk across the bridge. Below us are trash pickers and others taking advantage of the small flow of water. There are birds appropriate for each task. High on the banks, we see the top of the Old Palace. We had walked by the Old Palace the day before, but it is guarded by many soldiers and has a high fence - not real tourist friendly. We wander through downtown looking for a place to eat lunch. We pass a couple of eateries, but nothing inspires us. The guidebooks are short on suggestions. Finally, we settle on a good old juice place. Juice for lunch it is. The one recommended is just down the road a bit. We are tired and not in the mood for more wandering, so we hop a tuktuk, and . . . we are across the street from Hotel Blossom. We order two juices and sit for several hours working on the blog notes. Sitting in a cool shady garden full of flowering greenery and twittering birds, sipping on avocado juice, soothes the weary soul. The garden, empty when we arrived, gradually fills with locals who know the best thing to do on a lazy afternoon. Finally, it is getting toward late afternoon: time to purchase those bus tickets. We walk toward where the bus station ought to be, according to Lonely Planet. Turn a few corners, backtrack a bit, ask a question or two, and finally, we reach the bus station. The ticket office is way in the back. The tickets to Adama, which is as far as we want to go tomorrow, are sold out (they would have cost 130 birr apiece ($6.90)). But there are still some tickets to Addis available (these are 161 birr apiece ($8.50)). So two Addis tickets it is - seats 41 and 42. Not quite all the way in the back, but pretty far back. And our way out of this part of Ethiopia. Then the surprising news: Be at the station BEFORE 4:00 AM!! The bus LEAVES at 4:30 AM!!! Missions accomplished, we find an internet place for some typing. When we are finished it's already the dinner hour. Mike is not feeling 100%. We go back to the Samrat restaurant and order just two soups and the kim chee salad. Tonight, we are not high rollers or expense account patrons like others around us. As we wait for our food to be served, Mike suddenly feels even worse. We cancel the salad order and just eat the soups. Rather, Carol eats the soups, and Mike mostly drinks the tea and the water. One of the soups, minestrone, was OK, but the other, Chinese chicken and corn, was spectacular - better than any Chinese restaurant we've ever visited. Carol says that it is too bad that we didn't just get two chicken and corn soups. We pocket the dinner rolls, pay, and head off. Back to the Blossom for a final packing and an early 3:00 AM alarm to wake up. Thumbs up for Dire Dawa? Thumbs down? It came into existence in 1902 only because it was a less costly and arduous lowland locus for the Addis-Djibouti railway than hilly Harar would be. As an intentional urban area designed by actual city planners, Dire Dawa has wide tree-lined streets with sidewalks. It's more logical and clean (mostly) than Addis. Bradt guide's author was so negative about the town in a previous edition ("hot, sweaty and charmless") that a section entitled "In defense of Dire Dawa" was added to the 6th edition. Lonely Planet gives it lukewarm praise: "a more vibrant form of tedium". A motto for Dire Dawa: Not Memorable - Not Chaotic. Good enough as our trip draws to a close.