Dust

The omnipresence of poverty shocks me. Misery spills through every front: you can look at it, listen to it, smell it, touch it with your hand. It fuses with non-misery and challenges it, turning it also miserable. Bothering. The very least is lots among those who have nothing. 
The gaze lands inevitably over layers of decay: Half-built buildings, half-built streets, houses that only made it to the attempt, cars on the verge of collapsing, amassed garbage. And everything is insistently covered by dust.  
You don’t get to not see it. There is nowhere to hide, it is impossible to dodge and hope to forget. Poverty is everywhere and from the second floor of the sad and chipped building where I sleep you can see those who have nothing passing by. And from the bus that’s still standing thanks to some magic spell, you can see those who have nothing. And from the street, on foot, you can see the ones who no longer have the strength or the will to keep walking. 

Frey

We used to be a good civilization. Long long ago we were one of the most advanced civilizations. Some of our ancestors made history, but not my generation, we are not going to do anything. We are a drawback country. Maybe we make history again, but not yet. It is all because of religion. 

First we were enslaved and then they brought religion, which to me, is another way of slavery, because it destroys your mind. They took away our culture and brought religion, which doesn’t let us work because we are so scared. There are too many saints, too many holidays in which we are supposed to stay at home. We just celebrated Christmas and in a few days we’ll have another holiday for… what do you call them, those with the wings? Angels! Yes, that 's it! Saint Gabriel is an angel. How are we gonna get better like this?

It is Ok to pray. We should be with God, but you can do that a moment before leaving home. And we could have just a few holidays, just for the really important dates and without stopping work. 

Besides, we are robbed. They offer some petty cash to those who have really good minds and they take them to a foreign country. They steal the intelligent ones. I say they steal them because even if they do come back they have changed. They see things differently and are no longer part of us. That’s why many of them just don’t come back. 

All this followed from my approaching Fray to ask for suggestions of what to do on a Sunday in Addis Ababa and she suggested to visit Menelik II square if I was interested in learning more about their history, of which she also explains a little. 

She explains how Ethiopia, Djibouti and Eritrea were once the same country and why is it that they splitted. Abraham, who has just arrived, jumps in and they both entangle in a discussion about the reasons for this and whether or not Menelik is a national hero. 

 

Salam! I greeted Fray in Amharic just for the sake of it, but the rest of the conversation was in a mixture of English, Google and gestures and was only interrupted in the rare occasions where she had to answer the phone or deal with some other host, near the end of a 24 hour shift for which she is payed $1.50 dollars.