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I just clicked the internet availability indicator on my computer’s task bar and was informed that no networks are available, so I clicked “troubleshoot connectivity problems” and received error message #321 which reads: “you’re in Ethiopia fool, what do you expect?” No telling when I’ll publish this.
I’ll hit the highlights since the last time I wrote: From Armenia I took a direct bus to Istanbul, Turkey. The bus was “direct” only in the sense that its passengers didn’t have to change buses en route. Geographically speaking it wasn’t direct at all. We headed North instead of West and when we arrived at the border I was sorry to learn it was the Georgian border, not the Turkish. Armenia and Turkey aren’t on good terms, so the border cannot be crossed (this was news to me). I’ve now been to Georgia twice, accidentally both times.
I hated that bus ride for a lot of reasons: Vodka, cigarettes, and Armenians (who tended to annoy me even when sober) yelling, stealing my seat, and sleeping off their hangovers on my shoulder. My lips were the only lips on the bus capable of forming English words, and my teeth were the only teeth that met a toothbrush during the 36 hour trip. My stupored seatmate kept slumping over onto me and expelling the fermented contents of his lungs across the geologically fascinating, but hygienically revolting, layers of tobacco residue and scum that had collected on his teeth.
Istanbul was worth the bus ride though; Incredible. That city doesn’t know whether its Muslim, Orthodox, Christian, Eastern, Western, Arabian, European or Asian….heck, I even made friends with a Jehovah’s Witness. Nobody cares though, it‘s Istanbul. Go there, I can’t imagine anyone not liking it. Istanbul….diversity….cool.
The official border between Europe and Asia (since we pretend they are different continents) is at Istanbul. I crossed from Asia into Europe on a bridge across the Bosphorous. Although they comprise a single giant landmass Europe and Asia are so completely different that I’m inclined to excuse the false geographic distinction. My bus between Istanbul and Athens was soooo nice. Sooo clean, comfortable, quiet, and on time. The roadside rest areas had automatic doors and free restrooms (two things that are extremely rare in Turkey, and even more rare farther East). I’m a sucker for a free bathroom. It felt good to enter the Western world.
In Athens I met back up with Jeremy, and his parents flew in for a Weaver family vacation. They let me come along and made me feel welcome (except for the fact that Mrs. Weaver kept encouraging me to move out of our hotel and into the local prison… “hey Bjorn, climb up on that 3000 year old statue, I’ll take your picture).” We had a really nice time though. We ate, drank, and talked about being married (I’ve noticed that married people know a lot more about marriage than unmarried people. Good talks).
We visited ten or so historical sights including Sparta, Delphi, Thermopylae, and Olympia. I sprinted the 192m dirt track in the original Olympic stadium, and Jeremy did the shot put. We felt honored to represent the U.S.A. and, perhaps because no other competitors showed up (but perhaps not), we both won our respective events.
You’ve seen more news than I have about Egypt. Our original plan was to find a ship from Athens across the Mediterranean to Alexandria and continue through Egypt. Long story short: We flew to Ethiopia. The downside is we had to sacrifice our “overland” goal. The upside is that we didn’t get kidnapped and we can travel at a more enjoyable pace through the rest of Africa. I hope to come back someday and complete the overland bit between Addis and Istanbul. We did have a layover in Cairo, and since nobody at the airport thought it would be dangerous, I went and saw the Sphinx, the Pyramids, and the Nile before the short flight to Ethiopia.
I have no idea why there aren’t more Ethiopian restaurants in America. The food is unbelievable. It’s light, so you can eat a lot without committing gluttony, and it’s terrifically delicious. The toilets in Ethiopia, however, are not up to the challenge created by my love of such food. Even industrial, high pressure, commodes back home often choke when pitted against my metabolism, and the trickling little potty at the house where we’re staying didn’t stand a chance. I gave birth in that toilet, I feel certain that healthy newborns have weighed less. There was no plunger. I had to go outside and get a stick. I used the stick to divide my creation into five pieces. I pinned four pieces to the side of the toilet with the stick and tried to get the toilet to accept one piece at a time. I’m not even kidding, the toilet couldn’t flush one part in five. I had to use the scoop and carry method and fertilize some bushes outside.
We know some cool missionaries in Ethiopia (I apologize to those missionaries for not transitioning into this paragraph more elegantly), and plan to visit them before heading South to the Kenyan border. I asked a local guy how long it will take us to get to the border, “At least three days maximum.” Hmmm. I don’t know what that means, but I love it. That’s Africa.
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