Memoirs of the Motherland (Part V): City life

By Jilcha Hamid

Laying under the shade on the patio, out of reach of the blazing sun; This was my favourite hang out spot. And there was no better way to pass the time than to mess with people. “If there was a free election in this country, who would win?” I asked.

“…Oromos” they answered with caution.

“Nope.” I replied. At this point they looked puzzled and wondered if they said too much. “The flies would win…the flies are everywhere!” lol

My average day would consist of waking up for the morning prayer, going back to sleep, waking up again, eating breakfast, then stopping by the neighbourhood convenience store to say hello before venturing out to town. The main mode of transportation in Dirre Dhawa was the minicab or “baajaaj” as it’s called. Few people had vehicles. It was cheaper to build a large house than it was to buy a car due to the insanely high import taxes. But the baajaaj was an efficient mode of transportation for the population. A little vehicle which can hold up to 3 passengers (2 in the back, 1 in the front) for a coin or two it’ll take you to your destination. Even to travel a block or two, people would stand on the side of the road and wave for the minicab “aboo baajaaj!”. Hop inside and you were off. In the neighbourhoods there was Dirre Dhawa’s classical, romantic baala gaarii (horse and carriage). There was no point riding the baala gaarii. Unless you were travelling with a lady, then it would be a gentleman thing to do. Or with the elderly. But as far as efficiency was concerned, you can walk just as fast as the horse can pull three people and a carriage. Many of the horses are also underfed and abused. Sometimes you would find abused horses lying dead on the street, abandoned by their owners. Pulling the cart back and forth in the heat without being fed, it was only a matter of time. I didn’t really dig that. So yeah, I’d rather walk the few blocks.

I’d stop by the internet café and check my email and facebook. I’d do that until the internet speed annoyed me and I gave up and left. Sometimes I’d head to the market, the largest one being Taiwan. This is where I learned how to bargain. I got into the habit low balling (offering lower than what was being asked) and negotiating after my little nephew clowned on me once for paying the original price for an item.

“How much did you get it for?” my nephew asked, sniffing out my street smarts.

“A hundred..”

“Wallaaaaaaay?” he replied in a mockingly sarcastic tone. “So you just paid what they asked? I could go to the market right now and negotiate it down to half that price, what do you have to say about that!?” lol I was getting clowned by a kid. I had to get it together.

I’d take the item and ask the price. They’d tell me the price, and I’d give the shopkeeper a ridiculous lowballing price.

“How much are these sun glasses?”

“50 birr..”

“Here’s 20, take it..”

The shopkeeper would take back the item in disgust. Then I’d start raising the offer until they came around. I learned from my cousin. I’ll call him by the nickname “Murataa”. Murataa loved bargaining; even if he wasn’t gonna buy the item. On one occasion when we were in the countryside he walked up to a group of Issa nomads and began making lowball offers for a sheep that he wasn’t even gonna buy lol. He just liked messing with people.

Anyways I’d make my way back home, take a nice cool shower before prayer. This was the perfect time to shower, because that’s when you needed to cool off the most. Did I mention it was hot?

The rest of the day went like this… lunch time, followed by barcaa time. Pick the barcaa spot, sit back and relax. That was life. 7 days a week. City life atleast. It was time to check out the countryside.