Greetings from Awasa, Ethiopia! (03/27/01)

Hello Friends!

Usually I wait until I reach the capital city to write my journal updates, but since it has been over 3 weeks I thought I had better let you know what was happening.

I am writing this in the library in Awasa, Ethiopia which is about 270km south of Addis Ababa. There is a single internet connection in this town, and I'm using it. Fortunately, I am able to barter my computer skills for discounted rates. I taught Berhani Borena some advanced web stuff, and he let me use the computer offline to write this free of charge.

Two weeks ago I said my goodbyes to Nairobi and rode north towards Mt. Kenya. It was really hard to leave because I had established a great community of friends there, particularly in the Kenyan National Theatre. I think the hard part of travelling is not having contact with a regular community of friends--thus, once I had developed such a group in Kenya I did not want to leave.

The next day, I was in Nanyuki getting ready to book a 3-day trek to Mt. Kenya, following in Jay's footsteps. I called my friend Lailah in Nairobi, with whom I had spent a lot of time and had taken with me to Mombasa. She had just learned that her grandfather had died and she was quite depressed. So, I decided to forego Mt. Kenya--it will be there for some time--and I returned to Nairobi.

I attended the funeral with Lailah in a small village outside of Bungoma, in the western region of Kenya. There is a lot to tell here, from the crazy all-night bus rides there and back, to the family sleep-over, but the details will have to wait until the book comes out :-)

So, exactly one week later (on Tues. Mar. 20) I again left Nairobi. The first day I reached Karichota, a cabin near Naro Meru owned by some friends. The following day I planned to ride to Marsabit.

Now, I had heard that from Osiolo to Moyale there was a threat of bandits, and most people hired armed escorts. But, I had subsequently talked to some motorcyclists who had ridden through there without incident. To be honest, I completely forgot about the threat of bandits and headed on my merry way.

If you can locate a big map of Kenya, you will see that the northern section is desert. From Osiolo, the road immediately became a dusty, rocky, nasty bit of driving. I didn't have any water with me and didn't feel like stopping in Osiolo--it just did not feel like a friendly town. I cannot explain why every once in a while, I make some really dumb decisions!

So, I'm riding on this nasty road, not having eaten, and not having any water with me. And, there is NOTHING to be seen: no roadside stands, no other vehicles, no stores, nothing. I stop after a while and then my bike won't turnover. I knew I should have replaced the battery! But it turned out that the battery cable had shaken loose due to the rough road.

A while later I could hear some noise from the back of the bike. I stopped and saw that my license plate was missing. I turned around to re-trace my path and look for it. As soon as I started, I could hear the noise again. I looked and say the crumpled license plate caught between the swing arm and the rear tire. The heavy load had caused the license plate to catch on the rear tire and tear off.

Finally, I found a roadside stand. They had no water. Amazingly, they had no Coca-Cola! They had warm beer. So, that was it, me drinking a warm Tusker catching a mild buzz while a group of Rendili tribes people looked on. Rendili are similar to Maasai, both in their dress and their language. They wear blankets of bright reds, oranges, and even pink. They stretch their earlobes and they wear ornate necklaces and earrings.

After several hours I finally found a restaurant. The place seemed too big for the remoteness of the area. A man menaced me throughout my meal. He kept handing me a picture that had some writing on the back of it warning of the dangers of 'ganja'. I tried to politely ask him to let me eat in peace. Other people were standing behind him and gesturing to me that he was crazy -- which was actually a relief. When I left he kept saying, "You motherfucker." Well, you can imagine, this bit of the trip was a bit tiring.

Back in the hot desert sun, my bike started cutting out at about 4500rpms. Over time it got worse, cutting out at 4000 then 3500rpms. Carburetor problems, I thought, the one thing I really don't know how to fix.

I stopped at a Catholic Mission, the only place in sight for a long way, in a little village. I found a very friendly Kenyan priest-to-be who gave me water and allowed me to rest.

I rode away hoping that I could make it the 70kms or so to Marsabit. But the bike continued to run rough, and I rode through some of the deepest dust I have ever encountered. I actually surprised myself that I managed to get through it. Finally the bike quit.

This is it, I thought. Never had I had to walk away from my KLR. But, now was the time. It was 4:30pm, there was about 2 hours of sunlight left, and I had about 10-15kms to get back to the Catholic mission. I pushed the bike off the road, packed my most valuable items in my backpack, and locked my Pelican case and jacket to the bike. Then I started walking, feeling a bit nervous and a bit depressed.

Well, I running out of time here, so let me give the brief highlights:

* I got picked up by a big dump truck. 6 men and I loaded the bike into the back, which inflicted some damage on the bike.

* The dump truck got two flats. So 5 of the men walked for help and I stayed with one guy. So thirsty. At 9pm help arrives.

* I'm taken to camp where I receive a warm welcome, food, beer (warm) and a bed!!

* The next morning, I clean the aircleaner on the KLR and it runs like a champ. I am a total bonehead. I can't believe I didn't think to try that first!

* Ride to Marsabit where I meet some great people and arrange to ride with someone to Moyale. It turns out that the real threat of bandits was in the Osiolo to Marsabit section -- the portion I just rode alone and then starting walking!

* Next morning, up at 4:30am -- supposed to leave at 6am with a Land Rover. 6am - No Land Rover. 7am - No Land Rover. 8am No Land Rover. 8:30 - He shows up and says he is going to get some military men to escort us, he'll be "right back." 10:45 - He's back with two men in fatigues carrying machine guns. Now we have to wait for another vehicle.

11:30am we finally leave and it is HOT HOT HOT. Now I know why MOST people leave at 5am. The first 100kms was the WORST road I have ridden on in Africa. I was lucky that a) the Land Rover was carrying my two heaviest bags, and b) I didn't get a flat. It looked like the moon -- barren, flat, burnt-orange dust. As we progressed, the road got better and we were able to make some good time.

We make it to Moyale at 4:30pm and Itay, an Israeli I met in Marsabit, and I head for the border. The Ethiopian officials stay late to process us--they were great. We were both surprised that we had actually made it into Ethiopia that day.

More on Ethiopia later.

Next day I ride from Moyale to Awasa. This was a wild ride--and now I'm riding on the right side of the road again. I made it to Awasa just at dusk and found the Unique Park hotel. I met a very nice Ethiopian named Anthony who showed me around, and informed me of the current dispute surrounding African football (soccer) -- Ethiopia, Egypt, Cameroon, and South Africa vying for 2 spots in a tournament in Argentina.

The next day, Sunday, I take a day of rest and discover Lake Awasa, and some of the incredible birds that make their home at the lake. Later I went to see some local dancing that only a video could do justice to.

That night, I went to bed and had a fitful night's sleep. I woke up and felt as if I was in an iron suit and my bed was a magnet. I was sooooo tired, I couldn't move. And there were other unpleasant symptoms. I suspected malaria, and forced myself to go to a clinic. My blood test was negative (no malaria) which was a relief. I headed back to bed, and the day turned from blistering hot to a torrential downpour.

At 4pm, the rescheduled game between Ethiopia and South Africa began. My fever was starting to break. By half-time I made my way to the room of the owner of the hotel. It was 2-0 Ethiopia. In the second half, Ethiopia doubled its score for a 4-1 final. Everyone was in a good mood, and I had regained a little strength.

Now was the time to rally! I got on my motorcycle, with Bjorn (another traveller) on the back, and we headed to the city where throngs of people were waving flags, singing dancing, running in the streets, cars beeping, flaring shooting....

I lasted for about an hour and then headed to bed. The next day, which is today, I could tell I was on the road to recovery. And so, I am in Awasa, and should be in Addis Ababa tomorrow--possibly in the sports stadium where Ethiopia plays Angola. Go Ethiopia!!

Warm Regards,

Jim

P.S. The date in Ethiopia is 18-July-1993. So if you want another crack at a millenium celebration, you can come here in 6 1/2 years!