Fasil (our landlord) training me to make coffee the Ethiopian way.

Routine activities such as shopping are never dull here. There’s a particular vegetable shop we go to near the centre of town. Fruit and veg shopping is done the old fashioned way. You tell whoever runs the stall how many kilos you want and they measure it out on old mechanical scales. The staples are tomatoes, onions, garlic, carrots, green beans and cabbage. A kilo each of tomatoes, bananas, onions and carrots costs about 8 birr (approx 50p). Afterwards, as we approached one of the main streets there was a large crowd hanging around with lots of police watching. Our first reaction was to be very wary and nervous, expecting trouble. It turned out to be a bicycle race! There were separate races for women and men who were doing circuits of the main street. The police approach to crowd control here is to hit people with long sticks if they appear to be doing the wrong thing. Watching a curious onlooker being thumped several times with a stick because he was standing in the wrong place was a bit much. At the same time I was stopped by a street beggar who shook my hand (completely standard) and then kissed it (definitely not standard) before asking for money. Having my hand kissed disgusted me, not so much because of hygiene but being treated with such over the top respect and subservience. I know that compared to most Ethiopians I am rich, but being targetted by beggars because they associate Ferenji with money is annoying and guilt-inducing. Although I'm receiving an allowance equivalent to a local salary, I am better off than most people I meet. I have to hold on to the fact that the time and effort I spend here sharing some of my skills and experience is more valuable than any money I might directly donate.