Goodbye Ethiopia, We Hardly Knew Ye

Looking west from Meskel Square

Assuming there haven't been any hiccups, by the time some of you read this we should be on a plane flying high in the night sky over the Atlantic Ocean en route to Washington, D.C. We're due to arrive at Dulles on a Tuesday morning, from where we'll drive to Falls Church and move into what will be our next new home (in by now very familiar surroundings) for the next year or so. General Services training will start (online) on Thursday, and will last until Labor Day, after which I'll be plunged in Mandarin training (again). 

In case you haven't figured it out, the above paragraph means our tour in Addis Ababa አዲስ አበባ, Ethiopia ኢትዮጵያ has come to an end. After enjoyable postings in Shanghai, China and Vilnius, Lithuania, the past two years in the Horn of Africa (minus the six-plus months lost to Authorized Departure in Ballston, Virginia) were difficult and disappointing ones. Things started well, with family trips to Cape Town, Egypt and the Seychelles, plus a weekend visit by my daughter and me to Axum አክሱም (now in the midst of the war zone that the Tigray region has become). But we wanted to see and do so much more in Africa in general, and in Ethiopia in particular. We had a trip planned to the country's most famous sight, Lalibela ላሊበላ, in late February of last year. But while Shu-E and Amber were able to see the UNESCO World Heritage rock-hewn churches, I had to go back to the U.S. after my father died on the 26th of that month. And it was while I was in Washington state that the COVID-19 pandemic broke in the United States as part of its swathe of infection and death around the world.

Ethiopia held out against the coronavirus until mid-March of 2020 (during the time we were in the Seychelles, our last vacation as a family as of the present), but then things went rapidly from bad to no one knowing what was the full extent of the spread of the virus. In short order we had to cancel planned visits to Gondar ጎንደር and the Simien Mountains ሰሜን ተራራ, as well as to the walled city of Harar ሐረር; instead, we ended up caving in to pressure from upstairs and found ourselves cooped up in a small apartment from early April to late September/early October, doing almost nothing while the Trump administration spectacularly mishandled the COVID-19 crisis, and American streets erupted in protests over the death of George Floyd. The pandemic would erase our planned family summer R&R trips to Taiwan and Japan, as well as an excursion to South Korea over the Christmas/New Year holidays upon which we were also hoping to embark.

The girls, of course, would eventually make it to Taiwan in the fall, while I returned to work in Addis. And whereas my wife and daughter were able to enjoy a semblance of pre-COVID life in Taichung 台中 and Xiluo 西螺, I and my colleagues at work had to deal with the events going on in Tigray, beginning in late November 2020. As if the coronavirus wasn't bad enough, the deteriorating security situation throughout almost all of Ethiopia meant I (and later Shu-E and Amber, after they returned from Taiwan on Christmas Day) would spend the remainder of our tour confined to the capital city. 

I did manage to get out of the country once, for a period of one week in late March/early April, but only because of a previously undiagnosed heart condition that necessitated a medical evacuation to South Africa. So thanks to a combination of a death in the family, a worldwide pandemic, war and ethnic conflict in Ethiopia, and an atrial fibrillation, it's with some sense of relief that we're finally leaving, all of us now fully vaccinated, and returning to a hopefully different America than the one we left last fall.

And yet, in some respects, I'm sorry to go. Sorry I wasn't able to see more of what is a beautiful and historic country. Sorry to leave my coworkers, American and Ethiopian. And sorry that we couldn't make more of what was still an amazing African experience, regardless of all the fears and frustrations.

Despite the poverty, pollution, power outages and Internet disruptions (not to mention the pickpockets and scam artists), I leave Ethiopia and Addis Ababa with more positive memories than negative recollections, especially when it came to our interactions with the locals. I wish this country and its people nothing but the very best, and I sincerely hope they can overcome the daunting challenges that threaten the fraying ties that bind this multi-ethnic country together. So long Ethiopia, I wish I'd had the chance to get to know you even better.

And so another chapter is finished, and the time to turn the next page is upon us... 

We had most of our things boxed up and taken away a couple of weeks ago, leaving us to live out of our suitcases until we can be reunited with some of our possessions (mainly clothing and kitchen items) sometime in the next 6-8 weeks. The majority of our stuff won't be seen again until after we arrive in Beijing next summer. Truth be told, this lifestyle of constant moves and packing/unpacking has lost almost all of its luster, especially when considering the toll it's taken on my family. Were I younger I would pack it all in (pun intended), but I'm at that point now in life where it's better to just 我慢 and see it through until when I age out:

This past Friday there was a farewell party for myself and two others who are moving on. No event in Ethiopia would be complete without a woman preparing coffee and popcorn:

Amber and I pose with Getachew and Merid, two of the people I supervised and who were a pleasure to work with:

Saying farewell to a great group of colleagues:

Our last family meal at a local restaurant happened the previous weekend at Arirang, my wife's favorite go-to Asian eatery in Addis. Shu-E is looking forward to returning to Falls Church as we'll be close to Annandale, home to several Korean restaurants that she's a fan of:

I'm a fan of Ethiopian beer:

I went with the bibimbap, a tried-and-true favorite. There was a group of Chinese diners in the next room while we were at Arirang, but none of them appeared to notice my 我是台湾人 T-shirt; my job is prevent international incidents, not provoke them:

We're now in the rainy season here in Addis, meaning daily downpours, complete with lightning and thunder. Fortunately, the rainfall, while heavy at times, is brief. One thing I'll miss is the view of the Entoto Mountains from the embassy grounds, even on those days when you can see the clouds coming in:

What the rainy season looks like from our residence:

On this particular night the power went out in most of the neighborhood (we have a generator that kicks in during moments like these):

Street scenes. It isn't uncommon to see beasts of burden on the roads:

A cat chills in front of a cafe:

Crossing over Addis Ababa's light rail tracks. We've never ridden the train, as we're not allowed to do so due to security concerns, but also because the two lines don't go anywhere of interest to us, and we have (had) a car:

Che Guevara and Charlie Chaplin:

Buses, minibuses and taxis often sport religious imagery:

In case you're wondering, the name in Amharic is also "No Name", with the English rendered phonetically into the local script:

"The Ohio State University":

Banana sellers are a common sight on city streets:

Foosball is very popular in this soccer-crazy country. These people were playing outside the Addis Ababa International Stadium (1940); a newer stadium sits out in the eastern part of the city:

Approaching the recently renovated Meskel Square መስቀል አደባባይ:

St. Stephens Church:

Passing by Meskel Square:

A walk through the shopping street near our residence. I really should've done this on a weekday, when the street is a lot more active than on the Sunday afternoon when I filmed this. My apologies for the handheld swaying camera work; I don't have a gimbal:

Next stop: Beijing, by way of Falls Church...