Canned Roaddust by Jozsef Komaromi - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

sharpness of the turn would prove this reaction of the vehicle.

I was no experienced driver at that time. Today I would switch

back and let it slow down. That time I trot on the brake pedal. The car

reacted quite normally: brakes of wheels on the ground seized, the

others let it go. The car was putting its wheels of left and right in turn

to the ground and every time it came near to one side of the road zig-

zagging wildly. It was made worse by the movements of my wife and

son sitting on the rear seats without safety belts. Fortunately, no

other car was in our vicinity at that instant. To the left the ground was

about 30 feet below road level, on the right that difference was 8

feet. I tried to draw the vehicle nearer to the right side in case of a

run-down. At last, near the right side of the road, the car hit a big

stone with its bumper and stopped. But, as the right wheels ran off,

the car turned on its right side, all the glasses on that side went out,

and it stopped above 8 feet of nothing, supported only by a bush of

wild roses.

We left it climbing through the left door and waited to somebody

coming to help us to put the car back on road. Silence was enorm-

ous. We examined each-other, what injuries we had, but, fortunate-

ly, nothing serious happened. I have still been in a shock, but they

were in good humour, the boy was even giggling. Before us the road

was rising and running between two hills. This rise ahead and those

hills blocked sight, but in some minutes there came a noise to us,

the sound of many motor vehicles. The next minute the first trucks

emerged above the hump of the road.

189

Canned roaddust

It was a military convoy of at least twenty trucks laden with sold-

iers and military ware. They were East-Germans and Ethiopians.

They stopped opposite us and after greeting they tried to pull the car

up by a tow-rope Louis had given me in any case. The rope would

not do, it tore at once. Then a couple of men put it up by hand. One of

the soldiers sat in, turned the key off and on again, started the

engine and said:

“Please, at your service.”

Before we could say a sentence, they sat in their trucks and

drove on. We could only wave them off in gratitude. When we re-

mained among us, we could speak at last. My wife and the child

were both happy to survive the accident. They have been unhurt,

except my wife's leg with a scratch of rose thorn. My forehead was

bleeding a little, I hit it in the rear-view mirror.

This accident would slightly change our relationship to driving.

My wife would not sit in for about four months. I would have this ex-

perience repeated in my dreams for even longer. Later we would

drive that stretch of the road again, and I would solve that riddle: the

curve has been sloped to the outside. The roadbed might have sunk

down and so, geometry of the road has changed. Anyway, my

speed never surpassed 40 miles per hour at that road again.

Before I decided to take my son out of the Russian school, our

daily routine began with taking him there. It lay well out of town, as

the first emperor, Menelik II, had given large lands to the four big-

gest European powers for their embassies. The Russian embassy

site was one of them. Road was busy and, although I developed a

route along the old and new administrational buildings and it was a

smooth one, I suffered a lot especially from a local, the Aeroflot

Soviet Airlines office head, who was taking his son on the same way

to the same school by his Volkswagen beetle. He was overtaking

me in sharp curves, his pride could not let him allow a “farange”

(stranger) to arrive before him to the place. After delivery of the child

to school, I drove to my office on the other side of the city. My daily

route was 50 miles. It stopped it, when my son began having his

lessons at home. The next year it would not be better, then I would

190

African countryside

drive twice daily to the International School at the other end of the

town.

After the accident our car has been repaired in two weeks. Ato

Tezera, the chief of a workshop I inherited with my car from the

German sociologist, would always do a prime work. His workshop

has been called “Autosilverio” after the former owner, Ato Silverio.

Anyway, the only day that my car spent damaged in the parking

at our house, was enough to be seen by my neighbour, another

Hungarian expert. Charles, formerly chief architect of our capital at

home, was the senior architect in town. Revolution Square, the

venue of yearly military celebrations, was nicknamed Polonyi

Square after him. He said on sighting the car:

“You are an extremely lucky person. You smash your car in an

overturn 200 kilometres from town, and not only nobody is hurt,

even the car can come back on its own wheels.”

During these two weeks my colleague, Thomas, took me to the

office. After that my place has been switched to the nearby office of

Bekele, I made only 10 miles a day. This break in driving in the near-

Christmas weeks was a great luck. Otherwise, we would have been

going somewhere and having troubles. The family of the French

schoolmaster has been attacked by gunmen on the road, and both

his wife and elder son killed by bullets. It was a revenge for a local

child hit on the road by a white car. Any white car could have been an

enemy (also mine).

For my family and me this careless period has been a great luck.

We have made big walks in town through suburbs other whites

would detour far. The town's backbone is Churchill Road. It starts

from the railroad station on a smaller height and leads through the

centre of the city. It is the lowest point of the road. The square is

housing some very important offices and their National Bank. Our

block of apartments has lain nearly on that square. Here the road

meets the other main highway of the country that is the Dessie Road

leading to the namesake town in the East, to the seat of the Region

of Wollo. Perhaps this is the only part of the country, where the maj-

191

Canned roaddust

ority of the territory is no high plateau. Even here can be found the

Danakil Depression named after the local people, its deepest point

lies 370 feet below sea level. The Danakil people have not been

much more developed even a few years ago than they had been

several thousand years ago. North of Wollo lies the Region of Tigrai,

where the same Tigre people are living as in Eritrea.

After this crossing the road rises and leads up to hilltop, where

the Municipality building has been constructed. On the same hill

one of the Coptic Church's most important temples, the St.

George's Cathedral is situated. Difference in level on the road is

about 1,300 feet. Over Municipality, 15 miles away, rises the semi-

circle of Entoto mountains. Their highest point is above 12,000 feet.

From the city centre to Municipality the road was a metropolitan

one at that time. Walking on it from south to north you first saw

hotels and prospering tourist offices, although there was also an

empty site, where in my very first days in town during a torrential rain

a few cows perished. Poor creatures had walked down to the low-

lying area to browse, but rain arrived, the pasture turned into a ten-

foot lake, and they couldn't climb back up on the muddy bank. After

hotels there followed the Ministry of Transport, i.e. my workplace,

the ground-floor of which was the Main Post Office at the same time,

then came big stores, the Banca di Roma, etc. At halfway of the rise

there was a giant circus (in the capital there were many similar

roundabout traffic circuses, it has been no great joy, as part of the

drivers gave priority to those within, the rest did the opposite, you

never knew, who would give priority to whom), from where both to

the right and to the left important roads started. Here we found the

best shop for roasted coffee, or rather the roasting plant itself,

where I have always got the best quality.

Somewhat further, at the roadside, we found the favourite small

shops of my wife. Here you could buy everything from coffins to bra-

celets made of hairs of giraffe tails to ivory objects. And on the left

side of Churchill Road, when we are facing Municipality, lies the big-

gest open-air market of Africa, the Mercato. To discover it complete-

192

African countryside

ly, you need a month, walking here and there every day. It is a real

wonder. There are a multitude of spices in great heaps in bowls on

rugs spread on the ground. There is no ware you could not buy

there. During our first days in the town my colleague Elmer, who

wanted to take cocoa, but there was none in shops, said to a man on

the Mercato, offering his guidance for a modest sum, to show him

cocoa. The man took him to a small shop and there it was.

During the weeks after our return from the unfortunate excurs-

ion, my wife and the child went walking daily. Fruit and basket vend-

ors knew them well, and soon she would earn a status of “hardest

customer”. She would bargain every price to the ground. Once a

grapefruit vendor threw after her his grapefruits in his anger. She

really purchased a lot of locally made handicrafts at their true prices.

She has always had a good eye for natural beauty, and it was the

very last time she could get such things as rings, bracelets and

neck-rings made of hairs of giraffe tail. Or ivory carvings, not the

kind of Chinese 16-layer balls, but artefacts in their own kind. There

were souvenirs from lion claws put in silver or golden settings.

Her favourites were Ethiopian paintings on leather. Their char-

acteristic style showed historic events, folk habits and different

types of people of the country. All were inscribed with their Amharic

letters. These paintings sold for one birr for every person depicted.

My wife took so many -- sometimes so reasonably -- that at home

we would be able to give them away as gifts and souvenirs. My son

acquired a good knowledge about topography of the town by these

walks.

In our block of apartments, where we lived, only two of us have

been from our country. There were locals of high society -- as

Charles P., my neighbour once said: “It is a pleasant feeling to be

privileged in feudalism.” -- and Soviet military officers. One of the

latters would cause me some troubles yet. The block has been

guarded by armed men of the district council, as all big houses,

against criminals. Guards earned extra money during their duty

time by taking up drinking water from the basement into flats in

emergency of water supply.

193

Canned roaddust

We had troubles not only with water. Of the two lifts sometimes

both have been out-of-order. It has been the case, when a Sudan-

ese has been looking for a Libyan inhabitant. It happened, when Mr.

Kaddhafi sent out his men to execute Libyans living abroad. Some

months earlier he had sent his message to all of them and ordered

them home, to build their own country instead of foreign lands by

their talents. Those who would not listen would be executed on the

spot. Well, in our house there had lived a Lybian young man having

good contacts with a Sudanese doctor freshly graduated. He took

his president seriously and went home. The Sudanese has not

found him and, as our lifts were not in order, he was coming down by

the stairs. He had graduated in Budapest and he was surprised to

hear a Hungarian discussion over the turn. It was my family still

waiting for lifts and pressing buttons, when somebody addressed

them in their own language. They were very much surprised to see

a local man -- Sudanese Arabs are looking almost the same as

Ethiopians -- turn from the stairs. They invited him to our home and

waited for me. That day I was busy even after work and, when I got

home, the stranger left for North-Yemen. Just to that place, because

the economic situation in his own home country was very bad at that

time, and he needed much money to be able to return to Pécs in

Hungary, to his university of graduation, and finish his specialisation

-- and also to marry the Hungarian girl, also a doctor, with whom he

had already been engaged. From Sanaa he had got a favourable

offer. About Dr. Hamid I am going to write more.

As I have mentioned, Ato Bekele, my boss, has taken my sug-

gestions seriously and, beside our partnership at work, we have be-

come good friends. January has come and my boss organised our

trip to Assab. He helped to convince his director to permit the parti-

cipation of my family, too. We travelled by a long-cab Datsun pick-

up. This trip took us two days there, the same back and one in the

town, and it was an experience never to forget. Bekele has been

making that trip twice annually as an average. He knew the country

along the route as the palms of his own hands. The pickup was be-

ing driven also by the same truck driver, who was present this time.

194

African countryside

The aim of the trip has been to find a proper place and, if possible,

survey the conditions for the installation service for three hundred

FIAT trucks ordered not long before and due to arrive in a short time

at Assab on board. The trucks were to promote to the capital on their

own wheels after that.

Up-to the national park we knew the route, but after it sights

were new. That 540-mile distance can be divided to three equal

legs. First one is to the fork, where the Dire Dawa and the Assab

road divides. Second leg is from the fork leaving north, until mount-

ains near Djibouti are reached. The third leg follows the valleys of

those mountains. The second leg starts in some miles after the river

Awash, that leaves its north-eastern direction after rounding the

national park and flows on in a northerly course, crosses the Harrar

main road. After the bridge the road follows the same direction, then

the leg going to the land of the Danakil forks out to the left. At both

sides of the route the land is almost empty and it is very flat, you see

an African savanna with dry grass and occasional bush, only one

peak of a mountain, a very special one, comes into view. This is the

Ayelouth arising at about the middle of the whole leg. It is so con-

spicuous that you notice it already 70 miles in advance, it is no ac-

cident, the height of the peak is almost seven thousand feet.

Around that place, somewhat to the North, there is a settlement

of Afars, named by other people Danakil, meaning nomad ones.

The settlement is named Ghewanee. They are naturally beautiful

people, but very characteristic, especially men. They were head-

hunters until about the Second World War. In the book of doctor M.,

there is a story, when the author had insulted one of the boy-

servants unintentionally, and could avoid being killed by him only by

his light sleep. The exceptional pride of these people made the boy

to beg him for death, he said he would not be able to remain with the

tribe having been defeated.

Fortunately, when we visited the place they were no true

nomads any more. This is the reason why their name in their own

language, the Afars, were widely known that time already. Since

195

Canned roaddust

their giving up nomad life they occupy some territories in Wollo and

Hararghe -- this area is called after its seat, Harrar, this is the land

claimed also by Somalia, otherwise it is almost empty, nobody lives

there, as it is a dry stony desert -- regions within Ethiopia, but the

majority of these people lives in Djibouti, by its old name French

Somalia, which had been kept by France also during WW II. The

name of this mini-state is The Land of the Afar and Issat. By cloths

these people are not very much different from other Ethiopians.

They use similar gabby as the Amhara, but they do not need any

trousers under it, as their climate is hot because of its low altitude. In

their desert land there is a depression 370 feet below sea-level.

That arid land is the hottest place on Earth, peak has been measur-

ed at about 130 degrees F. Their desert can boast with an endemic

beast, the wild ass of Ethiopia. A relative of this animal lives in

Afghanistan. Another peculiarity of the Danakil Depression, in the

middle of it an active volcano arises.

Our route followed a course south of that depression. But

climate has been out-of-order for an unknown reason, as on that

land, where rain falls as rare as every second year, we made our trip

in a lasting slow rain. Something extraordinary must have happen-

ed as once we saw a group of ostriches of more than a hundred

individuals, whereas ostriches are seen always not more than five

in a group. Before reaching that mountain-cone Ayelou we saw a

man in a very dirty rug carrying something. It was an ostrich egg. We

stopped and bought it for five birrs (2.50 dollars). Soon there were

two more eggs for sale. We bought all. They survived the route and

two of them -- only their shells -- are today in our cupboards on

show. After return from the trip we gave one to our friends the

doctors, and two of them we consumed, one as an omelette of 33

hen-eggs (by weight), of the other, where I took care of blowing out

white and yolk to different bowls, my wife baked a fine cake.

At the settlement after the cone we stopped to take lunch. The

Afars stood around us and one by one we had to shake their hands.

They were very wild figures with their long sword, without sheath, in

their belts. Some of them had rifles, too. My boss, Bekele, told us,

196

African countryside

these people pay a big respect to men judged earnest by their be-

haviours and sights. May be, they had seen something in me, too. It

is also possible that all happened by the principle "the friend of my

friend is my friend too", as they had seen more than once Bekele

and the driver in the company car there.

We drove further and spent the night in a very small town called

Trena in an awfully unimportant hotel. There was neither water

supply nor electric light. Our sleep was short and we drove on in the

morning. At sunrise we sighted the Awash last time, after that it flew

on the right from us, until, passing through two big lakes, it dis-

appeared under the sand. Soon the mountainous country appeared

before us. When we reached that place, we turned on the road

leading from Dessie to Assab, the third leg of our route. It looked

frightful. Up and down serpentine roads, through salt pans and

never to pass another car, except a couple of deserted ones hang-

ing overhead on steep slopes as they ran off the road. One big F-10

red Volvo truck was still OK, only to organise salvage would cost

more than the value of the truck. There was a four-wheel-drive

vehicle crumpled as a crashed beer can. They were mementoes to

care more about our lives. But, anyhow, this last leg of our trip has

been beautiful.

In the afternoon the second day we reached our goal. Being

January weather was good, temperature only 87 degrees F. During

summer it is 125 degrees F with 100 percent relative humidity from

the sea. The town was a real Arab one and dirt was plentiful every-

where. It might be different now that it is not part of Ethiopia, it be-

longs to Eritrea, a separate country, and traffic is reduced. We have

been accommodated in a hotel consisting of several bungalows,

one of the small houses was exclusively for my disposal with my

family. For the heat we could not sleep well and the next day we did

all our work to return as soon as possible. I do not think, of my pro-

posal about the planned maintenance site there realised too much.

The company did not have money and, when one year later FIAT

363 trucks -- called “addis makina” (new car) -- would begin to pour

in by freighter ships, all the maintenance work they would spare for

197

Canned roaddust

the capital, here only necessary checks would be done. There was

no possibility to get people of the plateau to work here, only a back-

to-back system of three months would do. As Bekele wanted me

here only for my proposal, he left us alone on the beach for the after-

noon, and he went to arrange his official duties. On the beach we

collected as many treasures as possible. My son even caught --

and, as they survived, he took them to the capital in our flat -- some

hermit crabs.

Leaving beach my wife asked, if there were turtle shells to buy.

We were taken to a fisherman who had five of them. We took them

all. Later I would give three of them to the Wildlife Conservation

Office to permit my visit to the western part of the country with larg-

est wildlife. One of them is with us in our house until now.

On the backward route in the first leg in one of the small villages

we found all in decorations. The son of the local party chief had his

wedding. There was an enormous tent for at least a hundred sitting

persons with tables and benches. Bekele has been caught by them

and seated. He would not let us out of this event, and we had to take

place with him under the tent. Ethiopian hospitality is really great.

So far I managed to avoid eating from any of their national food.

Now it was impossible. When our hosts saw that we were inex-

perienced, they would help us to fold and eat the food, injera with

many kinds of wat.

My wife has been working in health service for more than 30

years. Before she joined me abroad, she collected all information

possible. She knew well that in Ethiopia all the infectious diseases

of the world existed. Including at least three kinds of intestinal sick-

nesses. Now it was time to test our immune systems.

It might be funny, but not one us had any troubles from the food. I

even liked it so much, that any time after I would have the possibility

of eating their national food, I would do it. On our backward route we

slept in a relatively luxury place of a hotel for foreign guests in the

town of Nazreth. The next day before noon we were in the capital.

198

Life in Addis Ababa

Life in Addis Ababa

My relationship with my boss had always been good, but after

that trip we became real friends. They visited us in our apartment

and we did it at their house.

I could see then how the unique Ethiopian coffee -- bunna in

Amharic -- was prepared. Their servant, a young girl, put raw coffee

beans on a round metal plate and laid it above embers in a charcoal

burning stove. The plate was supported by a ring fastened to the

stove four inches above embers. She aired the fire with a fan and

stirred the beans by a wooden spoon. In about ten minutes coffee

has been roasted ready. All this has been done on the floor of their

fireplace and smoke went out through the chimney.

Roasted beans still hot have been smashed in a wooden mort-

ar, ground coffee was poured into a ceramic percolator. It looked

like a sampling tube for wines -- without hole on its bottom --, with a

ball-shaped lower part of about two pints in volume and a narrow

long neck with a pitcher mouth and a handle on its neck. It was

made of black ceramics. On top of the ground coffee a needed

quantity of water has been poured, and the device was put directly

on embers within the metal ring. Soon water came to boil and it let

out steam at the top. The percolator was put aside on a textile ring --

similar to those for carrying loads on heads of women in some

countries -- and its opening closed by a piece of corn cob core.

Coffee has been poured into cups after 15 minutes.

In our country coffee is a culture. We have taken it first from

Turks during their 150-year rule here, repeatedly from Italians in

modern times. Italians had learned this trade in Ethiopia. I have

never tasted better coffee than that in Ethiopia.