Mama's is a diary brand in Ethiopia. I was a little sceptical about diary products in Africa. Yet Mama's makes fantastic yoghurts, cream, butters and cheeses. They also do excellent fruit juices, which they've recently branched out with. I'm not sure who's behind the business, but I think it might be a private business. Someone has clearly found a whopping great big whole in the market, and are doing very well for themselves. Good luck!
As with the fruit and veg stall, here is a copy of today's bill:
4 mozzarella balls
1 litre of half fat milk
250g unsalted butter
250g salted butter
500ml of plain yoghurt
200g cheese (nameless, but a bit like edam)
500ml of apple juice
Total: 153 Birr (£7.50)
Monday, 30 August 2010
Cheap Fruit and Veg
On the corner of Bole Road (loads of shops and bars; major place for Ex-Pat and well to do Ethiopian nightlife) and Ethio-China Road (three excellent middle eastern restaurants), is a huge fruit and veg shop. Amazing stuff, and amazing value. Here was today's bill:
2kg Potatoes
2kg Onions
2kg Tomatos
10 Leaks
4 Mangos
2 Grapefruit (White)
3 Guavas (never tried them before, but smell great)
2 Pineapples
1 kg Bananas
500g French Beans
Total: 160 Birr (just under £8)
2kg Potatoes
2kg Onions
2kg Tomatos
10 Leaks
4 Mangos
2 Grapefruit (White)
3 Guavas (never tried them before, but smell great)
2 Pineapples
1 kg Bananas
500g French Beans
Total: 160 Birr (just under £8)
Sunday, 22 August 2010
Debre Zeit and Lake Bishoftu (first trip outside of Addis)
I took a trip to Debre Zeit today. It’s a large-ish town, about 50km from Addis. The town itself isn’t much to write home about, but nearby are a number of attractive volcanic lakes. Their greenery (limlamay in Amharic) made a pleasant change to the diesel chuggers of Addis. There was a nice walk around the lakes, and I took a little boat out into the middle of one of the lakes. I also took a horse ride (the first time in my life - photos on Flicker soon). People were swimming about in the lakes, with bits of rubber attached to their backs to ensure they didn’t sink. Set alongside the swimming costumes were people in smart (and fairly shiny) suits, having wedding photos taken.
Near one of the lakes, a local businessman had built a holiday lodge from scratch. The lodge included six very welcoming rooms, with a friendly garden and a traditional coffee house. The coffee house was his big hope of getting in tourist: Apparently you and friends can book out the coffee house, order in a sheep or goat, and chew gently on the BBQed meat while you slosh strong coffee around your mouth and enjoy the view of the lake. He took the time to show me around (very proud to tell me that the showers had both hot and cold water), clearly keen that I would return soon. There were nice little touches: for example, the fact that each room was named by the herb growing in front of it. I was really impressed by the guy’s hard work, commitment and enthusiasm. I showed my gratitude by buying a coffee tree/plant (which one is it?) from the garden centre he also ran. Hopefully Wastnage Coffee will be a recongisable brand in all good UK stores soon.
On the way to Debre Zeit, you become really aware of how much the Chinese are doing here. In Africa, China is challenging the traditional model of development, by pumping in money into infrastructure and industry, and seemingly asking for little in return. From what the Chinese seem to be doing, at least on the surface, is positive. The asphalt dual carriage way I traveled on was Chinese made. The petrol stations I passed were Chinese. The newly established Chinese-Ethiopian Industrial Centre near Debre Zeit provides important local employment, especially for graduates of the nearby Addis Ababa Technical College (paid for, in part, by the Chinese). The chinese influence is so much here, that I counted six chinese restaurants between Addis and Debre Zeit.
Ethiopia has just launched its five year economic plan. Within the plan are ambitious Government targets of doubling the size of the economy (becoming £500 billion in size), and achieving year on year growth of 14% (current growth has been between 7% - 11% depending on whose figures you believe). While I think the plan will be a challenge, I really hope that it can be achieved. One of the benefits of the Government hitting the target would mean that Ethiopia would be able to feed itself. But one thing is for sure: For the plan to succeed, intensive infrastructure and industrial development, of the kind the Chinese (and Indians and Turks) are supporting, coupled with the entrepreneurial spirit of the lodge owner are going to be essential.
Near one of the lakes, a local businessman had built a holiday lodge from scratch. The lodge included six very welcoming rooms, with a friendly garden and a traditional coffee house. The coffee house was his big hope of getting in tourist: Apparently you and friends can book out the coffee house, order in a sheep or goat, and chew gently on the BBQed meat while you slosh strong coffee around your mouth and enjoy the view of the lake. He took the time to show me around (very proud to tell me that the showers had both hot and cold water), clearly keen that I would return soon. There were nice little touches: for example, the fact that each room was named by the herb growing in front of it. I was really impressed by the guy’s hard work, commitment and enthusiasm. I showed my gratitude by buying a coffee tree/plant (which one is it?) from the garden centre he also ran. Hopefully Wastnage Coffee will be a recongisable brand in all good UK stores soon.
On the way to Debre Zeit, you become really aware of how much the Chinese are doing here. In Africa, China is challenging the traditional model of development, by pumping in money into infrastructure and industry, and seemingly asking for little in return. From what the Chinese seem to be doing, at least on the surface, is positive. The asphalt dual carriage way I traveled on was Chinese made. The petrol stations I passed were Chinese. The newly established Chinese-Ethiopian Industrial Centre near Debre Zeit provides important local employment, especially for graduates of the nearby Addis Ababa Technical College (paid for, in part, by the Chinese). The chinese influence is so much here, that I counted six chinese restaurants between Addis and Debre Zeit.
Ethiopia has just launched its five year economic plan. Within the plan are ambitious Government targets of doubling the size of the economy (becoming £500 billion in size), and achieving year on year growth of 14% (current growth has been between 7% - 11% depending on whose figures you believe). While I think the plan will be a challenge, I really hope that it can be achieved. One of the benefits of the Government hitting the target would mean that Ethiopia would be able to feed itself. But one thing is for sure: For the plan to succeed, intensive infrastructure and industrial development, of the kind the Chinese (and Indians and Turks) are supporting, coupled with the entrepreneurial spirit of the lodge owner are going to be essential.
Laziness
Oh gosh. Three weeks since my lasting posting. Very poor. My target was one blog a week, at least. I’m not sure if anyone is actually reading this blog (it does feel a lot like talking to myself) but to my audience, whoever you are, “sorry for not writing more.”
The last few weeks have shot by. I’ve been trying to understand my job, build contacts, make friends, play sport, find my way around Addis, learn what food to buy, start driving the “Ethiopian” way, and unpack. I still have five boxes (of 43) waiting to be unpacked. They sit in my bedroom, nodding at me every time I go to sleep, noting that yet another day has passed without them being tackled. Margot turns up in less than two weeks (I can’t wait), and there is a real risk that the boxes will still be siting in my/our bedroom.
Two problems best explain why I haven’t written more (apart from not being organised). Firstly, I’ve been told that I shouldn’t write much about my work. The worry is that I write something silly after a bad day in the office, a Daily Mail journalist picks up on it, and the next day I find myself waiting at Bole International Airport for my one way trip home. Secondly, I’ve hoped that Saturday would be my blog writing morning. But a combination of unpacking, sport, lazy mornings, Peter Gill’s excellent book - Ethiopia: Famine and Foreigners since Band Aid, Nintendo Wii, the Times online, “rock cooking” (basically, cooking to loud (often 80s) rock music, with a tea-towel as bandana tied across my head), numerous coffees trying to build friends, and shopping (sadly, Addis doesn’t have a Sainsbury’s all purpose store) has meant that blog typing hasn’t been possible. And Sunday seems to be the same excuse. But I promise, it’s not because I’m lazy.
For the record, I’m sitting in my garden, typing to the beat of Vampire Weekend. It’s ace. The temperature is around 20 degrees, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Rainy season is still happening. But at least for the last week, the weather seems to be behaving itself much more. Mornings are heavy rain, but afternoons are sunny, fresh and just plain pleasant. Apparently, rainy season (which they call summer here), finishes altogether in three weeks. Hippeee!!!!
Anyway, once a week, I promise.
The last few weeks have shot by. I’ve been trying to understand my job, build contacts, make friends, play sport, find my way around Addis, learn what food to buy, start driving the “Ethiopian” way, and unpack. I still have five boxes (of 43) waiting to be unpacked. They sit in my bedroom, nodding at me every time I go to sleep, noting that yet another day has passed without them being tackled. Margot turns up in less than two weeks (I can’t wait), and there is a real risk that the boxes will still be siting in my/our bedroom.
Two problems best explain why I haven’t written more (apart from not being organised). Firstly, I’ve been told that I shouldn’t write much about my work. The worry is that I write something silly after a bad day in the office, a Daily Mail journalist picks up on it, and the next day I find myself waiting at Bole International Airport for my one way trip home. Secondly, I’ve hoped that Saturday would be my blog writing morning. But a combination of unpacking, sport, lazy mornings, Peter Gill’s excellent book - Ethiopia: Famine and Foreigners since Band Aid, Nintendo Wii, the Times online, “rock cooking” (basically, cooking to loud (often 80s) rock music, with a tea-towel as bandana tied across my head), numerous coffees trying to build friends, and shopping (sadly, Addis doesn’t have a Sainsbury’s all purpose store) has meant that blog typing hasn’t been possible. And Sunday seems to be the same excuse. But I promise, it’s not because I’m lazy.
For the record, I’m sitting in my garden, typing to the beat of Vampire Weekend. It’s ace. The temperature is around 20 degrees, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Rainy season is still happening. But at least for the last week, the weather seems to be behaving itself much more. Mornings are heavy rain, but afternoons are sunny, fresh and just plain pleasant. Apparently, rainy season (which they call summer here), finishes altogether in three weeks. Hippeee!!!!
Anyway, once a week, I promise.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
Running with Professionals
Oh my god. I should have said no when I saw the sparkling clean Ethiopian national running kit. And I should have twigged they were something special when I realised they had a professional cameraman and coach with them.
After messing around at home this morning, I decided to put on my new running shoes and go running in the mountain and forest behind the compound. The journey there was a story in itself. I had to drive through a huge sheep market, with people constantly shouting at me (in fairness, I properly shouldn’t have been on the “road” in the the first place). Kids regularly surrounded the car, laughing, pointing, shouting “hello”, “franji” and “give me money”. And I went so far off road that even putting the car into Toyota's 4-wheel drive plus, the wheels couldn’t find any grip. It was only after an agonizing minute of begging God that finally the car moved forward.
I finally found a place which looked like good running country. Ahead of me was a group of about 8 people. They all had beaming smiles, and even more beaming Ethiopian tracksuits. I got chatting to them, and explained that I wanted to go running (pointing at my smart running shoes to help highlight my point). After a bit of negotiation between them, two runners (Katama and Wako) decided to run with me while the coach (Shumey) watched my car.
I generally do not believe that I am unfit. But I didn’t make myself proud this morning. I’m not sure if it was the cold I’ve had since I’ve arrived, the numerous Friday night beers, or the fact that we were running above 3,000 meters. Or, quite simply, being professional runners, they were just a bloody lot better than me. But it was hard, hard work. The first 25 minutes was all up hill. I remember after two minutes saying that there was no way we could keep up this pace. But we did: Fu*king hell! I had to stop twice (Katama and Wako, smiling, sprinted - knees up - up and down the hill while they waited for me), I had a stitch stabbing my right ribs, and my lungs felt like a vice was squeezing them shut with every step. By the time I reached the top of the hill I sounded like a fatter, slower version of the Flying Scotsman steam train (puff, puff, pant, pant, pant). At the top, a quick look at the view (awesome) and then we sprinted down. Much easier.
When we got back to the car, I was told that my endurance needed work and that I am carrying too many kilos. Nothing quite like honest feedback. But then I was told that I should join them regularly - they run every morning (at 6am) and every evening (at 6pm) - when I asked Wako what his job was, he said he was an athlete. How awesome is that? It might mean tight lungs every Sunday morning, but at least I can improve and train with people who really know what they are doing - apparently in their club there are many Olympic runners. And plus, despite being torturers in tracksuits, they were decent lads. Good way to make some friends.
After messing around at home this morning, I decided to put on my new running shoes and go running in the mountain and forest behind the compound. The journey there was a story in itself. I had to drive through a huge sheep market, with people constantly shouting at me (in fairness, I properly shouldn’t have been on the “road” in the the first place). Kids regularly surrounded the car, laughing, pointing, shouting “hello”, “franji” and “give me money”. And I went so far off road that even putting the car into Toyota's 4-wheel drive plus, the wheels couldn’t find any grip. It was only after an agonizing minute of begging God that finally the car moved forward.
I finally found a place which looked like good running country. Ahead of me was a group of about 8 people. They all had beaming smiles, and even more beaming Ethiopian tracksuits. I got chatting to them, and explained that I wanted to go running (pointing at my smart running shoes to help highlight my point). After a bit of negotiation between them, two runners (Katama and Wako) decided to run with me while the coach (Shumey) watched my car.
I generally do not believe that I am unfit. But I didn’t make myself proud this morning. I’m not sure if it was the cold I’ve had since I’ve arrived, the numerous Friday night beers, or the fact that we were running above 3,000 meters. Or, quite simply, being professional runners, they were just a bloody lot better than me. But it was hard, hard work. The first 25 minutes was all up hill. I remember after two minutes saying that there was no way we could keep up this pace. But we did: Fu*king hell! I had to stop twice (Katama and Wako, smiling, sprinted - knees up - up and down the hill while they waited for me), I had a stitch stabbing my right ribs, and my lungs felt like a vice was squeezing them shut with every step. By the time I reached the top of the hill I sounded like a fatter, slower version of the Flying Scotsman steam train (puff, puff, pant, pant, pant). At the top, a quick look at the view (awesome) and then we sprinted down. Much easier.
When we got back to the car, I was told that my endurance needed work and that I am carrying too many kilos. Nothing quite like honest feedback. But then I was told that I should join them regularly - they run every morning (at 6am) and every evening (at 6pm) - when I asked Wako what his job was, he said he was an athlete. How awesome is that? It might mean tight lungs every Sunday morning, but at least I can improve and train with people who really know what they are doing - apparently in their club there are many Olympic runners. And plus, despite being torturers in tracksuits, they were decent lads. Good way to make some friends.
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