A storm! The clouds dumped torrential rain for most of this afternoon. With the grey overcast sky, strong breezes and drop in temperature the weather made me feel happy and lightened my mood. In UK-speak, this afternoon’s weather was “miserable”. In overheated-Brit-in-Ethiopia-speak, this afternoon’s weather was “lovely”.

Actually the weather has been the best feature of today. I wanted to do more observing in schools with Meleshew, but she was at the local authority offices all day sorting out a dispute with her neighbour. I finished most of the tasks on my to-do list, with the remaining tasks requiring either Meleshew or the Cluster Unit PC to be fixed. At least Mulugeta has been busy. His workshop has been continuous source of DIY sounds: hammering and sawing. Following the recent training we did for Science teachers, in which I demonstrated using a cloth board as a teaching tool instead of just as a display tool, I wanted to have at least one board per school manufactured. Initially Mulugeta wanted the teachers to come to us and help him. Once he started work I think he remembered how much he likes making resources. The boards are very simple, consisting of a rectangular wooden frame (about 1.5 m x 1 m) with cotton cloth fixed to it. Words and pictures drawn on paper can be stuck to it using pins. Apart from being colourful and more visually interesting than a blackboard, these boards can be used actively during a lesson and can then be left on display. For the last week or so Mulugeta has been producing 24 boards. It’s good to see him happy. HHHHe really only wants to be left alone in his workshop and make resources. I get occasional glimpses of someone who has been bruised by the system and has learned not to stick his neck out in other peoples business. Like many people he’s had direct experience of police brutality and has a somewhat cynical and pessimistic view of his fellow Ethiopians. As long as he’s happy making display boards then that makes my life a wee bit easier.

I blethered a bit this morning with the Head of the Maths Department in the college, Getachew. He was very disappointed that Liverpool lost the Champions League final last night to AC Milan. We went over the road to a café for coffee only to find that their coffee machine was out of action. For him the café next door was not an option as they don’t do Machiatto. A Machiatto is an institution here, being basically a small café latte ie coffee with steamed milk. I love these small but significant features to life here. Ethiopia may have many many huge problems but people like their machiatto! Getachew is an interesting person to talk with. He has worked with Gill a lot on the maths training she has delivered, and is unusual in that he is hard working, dedicated, believes in his profession and wants to learn. I guess he’s in his fifties and he’s experienced many changes in Ethiopia. He repeated what I’ve heard from many people, that progress, especially in governance, have gone rapidly downhill since the last elections about two years ago. The political repression that followed has taken its toll on the general level of optimism and belief that maybe things could get better. Once again, my own worries and anxieties about myself and my future seemed overshadowed by people who love their country but don’t see it going anywhere good.

In amongst the frequent heckles and hassle we get when we walk in the street (such as “you!”, “Ferenji!” and “money!”) there are many people who say nice things such as “good morning” (even in the afternoon!) and “welcome”. Unfortunately there is also the occasional abuse in the form of “fuck you”. I was shocked when small children would swear at me in English until I realized that many of them have picked it up from movies and don’t really know what they’re shouting. What I am increasingly aware of is how many comments we get in Amharic which are abusive or racist. Most Amharic I get from passers-by just bounces off me as I don’t understand it, but I am starting to pick up certain words which I know are less than flattering. There’s a word which means “red person” and I’ve had “whitey” (in Amharic) shouted at me a few times. Maybe the intent is not aggressive, but it does get annoying when a group of school kids make comments to me in Amharic which cause the whole group to fall about laughing. The only plus side is that my skin is good deal thicker than when I arrived here.

Balancing the hassle are the acts of kindness that mean so much. Yesterday, after visiting Rekebnaha School, I went to the water supply offices to pay our water bill. Queuing is unknown here and everyone, old and young, just pushes each other to get on buses or get served in shops. The shoving is not meant to be rude or aggressive, but it does make me feel extremely British. At the water offices I stood helplessly near a counter to collect the bill, while a dozen people swarmed the counter to get their bill first. The people who were waiting encouraged me to sit and wait with them but I could see me being there all afternoon. Just when I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed and pathetic I was spotted by Birhanu, the Head of the English Dept at the college, who was also waiting. He explained how it worked, realized I was a bit unhappy and then just pushed his way to the counter and asked the official to deal with my bill next. Although I felt a bit embarrassed at the preferential treatment I also felt very very grateful. Birhanu then invited me for a cup of tea in a small café next door before I went back to college. I can’t explain how appreciated and needed are the hundreds of small acts of kindness, often by complete strangers, I have had here. At moments when I’ve felt adrift in a threatening world somebody giving me a moment of their time has made all the difference.