she is a lesbian, radical feminist, cat lover, bibliophile, non-smoker, unitarian universalist (though she doesn't go to fellowship on a regular basis) and in the process of becoming athletic again. she dreams of being jeanne d' arc and swooping in and saving those that need saved (though she'd rather not be burned at the stake). she is a loyal friend who will do anything she can for those she loves, but she can flakey sometimes when her depression flares up. she is a loner. a southerner self-transplanted to the pacific northwest in 1998 and now believes that it doesn't rain enough here. she's known for her honesty, she can't help it, its the only way to be. she is 4'8" tall, and round. she has natural blonde hair and she also has blue eyes. she is very intense. she hates small and large crowds, she prefers the one on one or the one on a few. she has no idea what she wants to do with her life, though she would like to see more of the world than what she has seen so far (a good part of the continental united states) and she very much wants to be a mother. finally, she has huge crushes on alix olson and carolyn gage (these are from a far).

this is the most recent.

Bargains Ethiopian Style

Dianne [my, brooke, mother] is coming in two weeks. When she left three months ago, we planned take a long drive in the countryside with the Land Cruiser. The last long drive we took in Ethiopia was almost a disaster. My Land Cruiser uses petro, not diesel. Diesel is available every few hundred kilometers in most of Ethiopia because buses and trucks use diesel and travel everywhere. However, petro is not always available within a tankful's drive. Last trip, we ran out of petro in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately, we were able to find gas on the black market, but it was touch and go. I'll tell the story of that trip eventually. Because we almost ran out last time, and now we intend to take a longer trip, I decided that we needed to acquire a rack for the top of the car for petro. A good car rack can carry four 25 liter gerry cans. The car gets 4 to 5 kilometers to the liter, so we would have 400 - 500 kilometers on top of the car. That is enough to get to next petro station from anywhere in Ethiopia.

Daniel and I went to Merkoto to get a rack. Merkoto is the central market place in Addis Ababa. It is the largest open-air market in Africa so, it is probably the largest in the world. Where else do open-air markets exist? [brooke note: i saw the merkoto featured in a travel show, they had it #2 or #3 on a list of the 5 best open-air markets in the world.]

Merkoto is not a simply a set of stalls and all of Merkoto is not open-air. It occupies an area of approximately one square mile. There are streets that run through it, trucks that carry goods around, single room stores line both sides of the streets. Then there are lanes, too small for motorized vehicles. Donkeys and people burdened with large cartons full of goods, gunny sacks loaded with produce, plastic products tied together and piled yards high above the carrier travel the roads and lanes that are crowded with people shopping.

Driving through Merkoto takes an expert. The streets are solid people moving like a river with a slow current. The car passes among them; they move apart just enough for the car to fit, then move back, behind the car. If you want to park, there are folks who guard the spaces along the street. If one is free, they wave you over. For a birr (10 cent), you park as long as you want and they guard your car. The Merkoto seems to be a living animal with one purpose - to take your money. Yet, when you walk around, there is an energy that makes you feel fully alive. You are perfectly safe in Merkoto - the purpose is commerce and crime hurts commerce. The shopkeepers and stall sellers do not allow any crime. And the place is very organized. Shops of like nature are gathered together. There are areas with shops that only sell shoes, plastic containers, suitcases, auto parts, souvenirs, gold, stationary products, building products, whatever you can imagine. You cannot go there and find anything without a guide. Daniel worked there when he was younger so he knows the place very well. Daniel always knows everything.

Daniel assumed that the racks were available because the army carries these and sells their useless vehicles. Therefore, someone at Merkoto must salvage and sell them. We drove there and asked. Only one guy said he had one, but he wanted 450 birr (8.5 birr to the dollar; about $50). Daniel thought fifty dollars was outrageous. In addition, he didn't like the style of the rack. He thought that we could do better.

Time passed and Di was coming in a month. I pushed Danny for some action. We went on a Sunday and met a guy that Danny knows. The guy didn't speak English, but seemed competent. He seemed to be in his twenties. He is a metal worker - he has a torch and he cuts metal into shapes.

We describe what we want and he thinks he can do it for 200 birr. We have found a bargain. We get in the car and drive around Addis looking for the kind of rack that we want. In front of a travel agency that takes folks around in Land Cruisers, we see a Land Cruiser with a rack on top just like the one that we want. We stop and the driver is there. He lets us crawl all over the Land Cruiser taking measures. The guy is ready to go.

The next weekend, we go back to Merkoto to buy the cans. Petro cans in Addis are not metal; they are vegetable oil plastic containers that get washed and the used as petro cans. Plastic is better than metal - lighter, strong enough, tops seal tight, they don't dent. We drive to the plastic container area and purchase 4 25-liter containers for $20 total cost. The Merkoto sellers buy the containers from restaurants in town and clean them. This is their value-added.

We drive to the metal guy to get the rack installed. He says it is ready. The rack must go on today because Danny and I must go to Awassa (400 kilometers away) the next day in my car for two weeks work. We drive up and down some winding back streets in Addis - as soon as you leave the wide paved boulevards in Addis, you enter the residential areas.

None of the residential streets are paved and none run straight. All are surrounded by high stone fences with metal gates. The stone fences are topped with broken glass embedded in the top layer of concrete. In addition, 90% of the compounds have vicious dogs roaming around. You don't just walk into these places. Each has a full-time guard (24 hours a day) who checks anyone trying to enter.

Everybody lives in a fenced compound - rich and poor. Only the poorest, who have no house and live on the street, do not live inside a compound. All businesses and government offices are inside compounds also. The streets, and especially the narrow dirt roads in the residential areas, are surrounded on two sides by these stone walls, about 10 feet high, built on the end of the street. All traffic, pedestrian as well as donkey and cars, are forced to share the same narrow lane between the walls. Walking is a dangerous business.

The metal guy works out of a compound. Most compounds are a set of residences occupied by folks who rent rooms. They can be large or crowded, neat or dirty. The metal guy's compound is occupied by his extended family and it is large but dirty. We pull in. He is not finished. The basic rack is welded together but must be placed on the car's rack.

His plan is to use a torch to cut holes in the car's rack and bolt his petro rack onto it. I am sitting there, watching the guy climb on top of the car with an acetylene torch, thinking something is wrong. But I can't think what.

He is very careful. He lays a sheet of metal on the car top to protect it. We disconnect the battery. Still, something is bothering me, but I do nothing. Daniel is nervous also. He questions the guy and checks everything. The metal guy is totally confident.

An acetylene torch requires electrical power. The guy's torch is connected to power by wire strung from a light pole about 500 feet away. The wire consists of multiple acetylene torch pieces twisted together and laying on the ground. It work, but where is the workplace safety organization? Maybe later.

He starts to torch a hole; sparks fly; there is a low, dull, sickening sound of something breaking. The guy stops and there is a moment of silence. Then we all realize that a hot piece of metal from the cutting has struck the rear window - the big one with the wires running through it for defrosting. The metal was so hot that, when it struck the window, it heated the wires in the window, they expanded, and the entire window cracked. It is safety glass, so the break is that kind where the window holds in its place, but is shattered. In this case, it is shattered everywhere - you can't see through it.

Now we all know why you never see anybody climb on top of a car and start up an acetylene torch. I feel both foolish and sick. It is 4:00 pm on Saturday; I am scheduled to go to the South at 1:00 pm on Sunday in this car. What to do? The metal guy feels guilty - he had no idea. He also is scared - he has no money. Danny is extremely upset; he feels responsible because he arranged this guy and got me to go along. But he has no money either.

I ask Danny what to do. He redesigns the rack so that they will create u-bolts to fix the petro rack to the car rack. He thought that was best from the start, but the metal guy was confident. No longer.

Danny and I get in the car and drive to where else - Merkoto. We get to the auto glass area (there is a big one). After asking so questions, we discover that there is one store that might have the proper glass, but the owner (only owners operate shops - there is no trust) is having tea. We wait until 4:45, when he returns.

He does have one of the proper glass in stock (there is a god and god is good). He says it costs 2600 birr - he could have said 5000. But Danny argues. He tells the guy that he is a driver, he broke it, he will lose his job if he can't get it fixed before the car owner finds out, I am helping him by loaning him the money, we only have 1800 birr.

The guy remembers seeing Danny at the Hilton. Danny, before he got married, joined the Hilton health club. He would go each morning and swim. Apparently, this guy also goes. Danny didn't remember him, but this tie is enough. They have a connection and guy lowers the price to 1800 birr. This is the nature of the Ethiopian barter system. Fereng just don't have a chance.

The guy closes his shop and we go to his warehouse to get the glass. The shop is loaded with auto glass, but his additional stock is in this ancient shelter - off dirt roads behind Merkoto. The building is wooden sticks supporting corrugated metal sides and roof. The floor is dirt. The place is the size of half a football field and filled with auto glass in crates.

The owner walks directly to the proper glass. He has one left. It was imported from Finland - made for my make and model. It's the right one.

We carry it back to the shop and two of his guys put it in - yes, their workshop is the street. In ten minutes, it is installed and we are on our way. It is 5:30 pm.

It has been over two weeks and we still don't have a petro rack installed, but we were able to find, purchase and install a window glass for the rear of the car in 1 and a half hours. Welcome to Ethiopia - the Land of Surprises, good and bad. In total, instead of 450 birr, the petro rack has cost 2000 birr so far.

And the saga continues.