Its been a tiring week, not only physically, but also im emotionally exhausted. Adding up with im finally drained, what im gonna do.. can someday help me to get my self again.
Because they told me that they are about to close the store. Then I accepted their behaviour and decided to seek another store in the same area. Outside was rainy at the moment and I didnt have my umbrella with me. So you think that I got wet? No, surprisingly enough the rain couldnt catch me and make me wet.After too much search I finally found another store and got into it.So the story goes like this.I have� a lot to tell you but now not much space for it on this paper.My computer is running out of space.
7th October 2008
First full day!! Ah! Arrived this morning at 05hrs Ethiopian time (which I believe is 03hrs UK time). The flight was delayed by 2 hours from Heathrow due to engineering checks. I managed to get my 32kg luggage on without further charge, despite the 20kg maximum, by playing the charity card, but was not so successful with the upgrade. The flight was absolutely full.
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We arrived and were directed to the correct baggage reclaiming gate and then I checked in with the visa office officials. I managed to jump the queue as I had already organised mine and proceeded, less the comfort of the crowd, to the customs. There were men and women sleeping all over the place. Locals. They did not appear to be waiting for a flight, more like they had no where else to go! It was a bit worrying as men would appear from no where and would take my documents to look at, before moving me on. I had to trust that they were officials, as there seemed to be no uniform in place! I needed to change my currency in case I had to pay the hotel pick-up but the bank window had a board over the cash hole. I questioned one of the men, who understood english, and he assured me it was open. I explained that no one was there, but he laughed and said, knock on the window – some one is there. I wandered back over and sure enough, I found another sleeping Ethiopian. So I knocked. Nothing. I knocked harder and I saw him judder, but still nothing. Determined to get my money, I wrapped even harder and this time he peered out from under his scarf which had been covering his face. Once he had decided he was awake, he came over with a little glint in his eye, as if he had just been in the act! I greeted him like I was his morning call, and we proceeded to get my money changed!
I was concerned that my arranged pick-up from the hotel would not be waiting as the time had lapsed. But on walking back to join the travellers who had arrived, I was met by a young lady who asked if I was Julia. Still on my guard, I half smiled and checked which hotel. She answered, Ghion hotel. Ah – so that's how I pronounce it, with a hard 'G'. I acknowledged it was me and we made our way out of the airport with her (half the size of Lisa) struggling with my case!
On the way to the bus, she enquired about my stay. I explained that I was staying in Addis for a few days before heading for ASCO's Childrens' Home for 6 months. A broad smile appeared on her face. She knew of ASCO and wondered how I did. I explained the connection via a friend from work and my communications with Sister Maria. It was then that she asked if I was meeting up with anyone whilst in town. When I said I wasn't, she offered to show me around the city if I was interested and gave me her name and mobile number. This was a good start. Friendly and kind. I was feeling good.
On the journey to the hotel, I was struck by how unbelievably quiet everywhere was. At this time in Thailand or Vietnam it would be bussling by now with stall holders and delivery vehicles. I could not even see any street sleepers, although it was dark.
I arrived and checked into my room. The first room that I was shown was already occupied judging by the two false legs that lay on the floor as we entered! Once I had been reallocated, the porter, who by now was getting justifiably pissed off with my case, hung around uncomfortably for a tip. Normally, I do not tip until I know what is a relative amount. In the end he said 'one'? One? Well, as he'd struggled so much with my case, I dived into my belt bag and gave him one Birr. He looked at it as if it was dirt on his shoe and wandered off down the hall, muttering to himself. Later it occurred to me, he was probably asking for one US dollar! That'll be a black mark against my name!
The room is basic and the bathroom reeks of stink-bombs. I was reluctant to walk around bare footed and I slept in my kaftan, to try and ward off the fleas! I was shattered from the journey, but I was conscious that I needed to let people know I was safe and well. I started to send a round robin text message only to discover that all SMS's were barred from my phone. Barred? What the hell is going on there then? I then discovered the room had internet connection. So I set about sending mail to those who were by now getting anxious.
I crashed for a good seven hours waking up to a brilliantly bright day, and discovering that none of my mails had got through either! I tried the mails again, and decided to call mum as I felt by now she'd be close to having a nervous breakdown! Good move. She was! Releived to hear from me and to hear me smile, we tried the mails again and succeeded. I asked her to send messages out to Roger and Stu as they too were getting anxious. Eventually, I received contact from Stu who said he was doing fine, even caught a train using the machine for local currency, but it was raining and he was tired.
I was aware by now that I was starting to find things to do in order to put off going out of the comfort of my room. I remember that the hotel website said there was room service. So in the absence of any literature in the room, I dialled zero – nothing. One? Nothing. One hundred? Still nothing, although I was glad about that as I wasn't sure if I was dialling-out at this stage!
Ok. give up on that idea. I know, lets have a bath, or a shower. My hair is wild and I remember reading that a bath is good after a long flight. No hot water. Too late in the day? Only hot water on Sundays? I resorted to a cold sink wash, which included the wild hair.
Then I pottered. And pottered. And pottered some more until eventually, I could put it off no longer and I bit the bullet and ventured out of the comfort zone of my room.
First port of call was to ask for a room with a balcony. A balcony? What is this strange word? I explained that on their website they advertise rooms with balconies. You know – window in your room, opens up to a balcony? Ah yes – a balcony. Bingo! How long are you staying? Five days maybe? They are all taken. That's a 'no' then. I should have said six months!!
Ok. The next thing is to store my valuables in the hotel safe. May I put something in your free safe? Later, came the reply. Great. Now I have to walk around with a wadge of cash in my bag.
Where can I get a coffee? Over there in the bar. Shall I, I thought to myself? Maybe I should wander around the hotel first or I will find myself not wanting to go anywhere! I know what, I'll just follow these local girls as having arrived in the dark, I was not sure of my bearings and the hotel grounds seemed to be huge. Oh look – there is a garden over there. Let's wander through there. Oh shit. There's at least five men who have appeared from – from where? The bushes? Surely not – but still, they're there, leering and jeering. I have started to walk into this garden now, so I can't turn back without looking scared. Keep going, Julie. Hold your head up. Oh look – there's a path leading out of the garden. Thank god.
I find the exit gates of the hotel grounds. Everyone is staring. I feel like a walking vagina and money tree. A walking wealthy vagina. A WWV! I remember from the map in my book that if I turn right it will lead me to some food stops. I take the first right. It is dusty. And busy. Mostly with men. The places I see look like local venues. There would be no english spoken at these places at all. Besides, only men are sat there. I'll be eaten alive! I keep on walking determined not to look like a WWV. Too late. A child beggar spots me. Food. Food. Please? Please? Shit. What is the word for 'no'? Oh yeah – aye. Aye! Oh no. I have just done the worst thing I could have done. I have opened up a dialogue. Just keep looking ahead. Pretend he is not there. He's not taking the hint. When is he going to go? How the hell am I going to shake him off?
Oh my god, there's another one! I am now looking like the Pied Piper of street beggars as well as a WWV!
I realise that I have finally lost the first boy who I presume has respected his mate's begging territory. He then continues where the other one finishes, like a relay, which continues on to the next and the next – each one becoming more and more crippled. I learn quickly not to look and engage eye contact. What a cruel world it is? One boy is curled up in the foetal position so tightly that I struggle to work out which end is head is at. He looks as if he regularly gets a kicking, and I presume this is why he is postioned the way he is. Another vision is of two young boys huddled under a tree. One of the boys had wet himself and it was trickling down the pavement. He didn't seem bothered.
I am aware that despite my determination to act cool, I have picked up quite a pace. Two of the places mentioned in my book arrive and pass before I have time to check them out. But what I do manage to see is that they are still only occupied by men. There is no way I am opening myself up to any conversation. No sir-ee!
I spot a hotel - the Ethiopian hotel. That looks a bit safer. Shall I? Shan't I? Some one is beeping at me. I loose my bottle and walk on. How rubbish am I? I notice that the beep is coming from a taxi by the hotel. Mental log. If all else fails, I can come back and take a taxi back to my hotel.
Before I know it, I am being spoken to: Where are you from? I know Stratford. Is that dress from India? You look lost. How many days are you here? Are you staying at the Sheraton Hotel?
He may well have spoken perfect English, but that has done it. I do an about turn and get back to the taxi quicker than you can say WWV or PP! I pay the man 50 Birr, which my gut instinct tells me is a rip off, but I don't care. I get to my room and I collapse on the bed. I know I have to walk a couple of short flights of stairs to my room, but I am aware that my heart is clambering to get out of my mouth!
I regain some form of composure, and try and gather my thoughts about the last hour or so. OK Walker, you need to get your shit together. Maybe assuming that I could filter in with the locals in their city was a bit na�ve and foolish. Do I need to get some clothes-shopping? Not any more! Do I need to stay for a week here in Addis? Not at all!! But, whilst I am here, I shall grab a taxi everywhere and eat in the hotel. And there is always the offer from Akele, the night receptionist, which has got to make me feel better about the place.
So, I dusted myself off, grabbed my key and retired to the hotel bar with a coffee and bottled water. After a good while writing my diary, it occurred to me that I still had not eaten. I order from the typically english abroad style menu 'fried potato' in the hope that it might be something local. I ended up with chips! I demolished half the plate before realising I was eating with my left hand! Ah!
I've consumed six (espresso sized) coffees and now need a pee and a 'behind closed doors' cigarette! So I will retire to my room to learn some much needed Ethiopian!!!
I ventured into the hotel restaurant in the evening. I tried to find the local one but discovered that it is at the rear of the western one – by which time, I had sat down and ordered! However, at the end of the meal, I enquired if it would be ok for me to just have a drink in the local restaurant, which it was (I am sure aided by my 10% tip! Have made a decision about the tip situ. The wages are so low for these guys, that I am sure anything extra must go a long way. Plus – I feel liked!! lol!).
The local restaurant is brilliant! It is of solid wooden construction immitating a large teepee and filled with smoke to increase its authenticity. I tried to take a few pics but the smoke acted as a veil. On tuesday's, thursday's and saturday's there is traditional live music and dancing. Guess what? I only knew some of the songs from my CD!! how cool was that! The problem was trying not to get too excited and jumping up to dance!!
after a while, I realised that I was wearing exactly the same outfit as each member of the male band – beige tunic and white trousers with a beige wrap! I must look like such an anomally to the Ethiopians. Firstly I am a female sitting and drinking (albeit coffees) on my own and then I dress the same as the men! Hopefully, if I remain 'outside the box' the guys will give me a wide berth! They might even think I bat for the other side! Lol!
After a good hour or so, other people started to disappear leaving me alone in the restaurant, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable. As I still had a drink, I got out my diary in an attempt to shake off the image that I might be a lady of the night! When it felt right, I left the band a tip (its customary, but it also feels good!) and returned to my room.
On the way up, I enquired about the elusive hot water. Apparently, if I leave it to run for 10 minutes, it appears! My first reaction was – what a waste of water in a country where water is such a premium! But I suppose they also do not have the resources to change this. What a cruel trick?
I also discovered how to get room service: 5204. of course! Why didn't I think of that!! with this knowledge in hand, I ordered a small bottle of Ethiopian red wine – and very nice it was too – and enjoyed a nice glass and a cigarette in the safety of my little room!!
Goodnight!!
The given quote, teach not men to build a ship but teach them to yearn for the sea.� While I live on the Oceans shore I too know of the Seas great pull and open promise of adventure, I realize that vastness of this quote is better applied to the idea of liftting the human spirit.� It is when the human spirit is driven to achieve, given a burning desire, it is then that we can not and will not be stopped from our true potential.
Hidden in the dark of night laying in the grass starring deep into your�eyes as the hour pass your smile speaks wonders and it also warm my heart it's times like this that help me when we have to be apart alone under the stars your lips brush my cheek your arms wrap around my sides and make me feel weak�the heat of your breath as you whisper in my ear and you pull me closer to you your feelings are so clear i know that you love me i know your hunger for my touch baby just know that i feel the same� and i love you so much babe.
������� Entire�day, I was gloomy and depressed, because of my overwhelming homeworks and assignements. I was worrying for my homeworks rather than doing actial homework. So it took time , finally, in the spur of the moment, I had to done it. Yeah, I'm bad student. However, right after I met with my writing professor, plus I got an inspiring email from my best friend whom I have been friend for ten years. She attached a nice French song and�it's lyrics�in her email which made my day.�Eventually, now, I'm delighted and everything seems easy to me. After all,there is always sunshine after the raining.
�������� Late afternoon it was raining hard. After my class, I met with my professor and we talked about the my article's name. Because I did not come up with a good idea, so she helped me to narrow down my subject and be more concrete. I had a random, borad and not clear subjects in mind for long time that I could not reach the point. Thank God ,my professor gave me concrete subject that I can write. Thank you my professor for your insightful thoughts and encouragement. I hope everyone agree with me If I say that the most of the professors are so caring and patient. That's what make them professor.
�������������I did not do exercise for a while, and I eat intenionally a lot of junk foods in cafeteria which is bad even it conforts me forwhile. I'm thinkig to go gym tonight right after my assignment research and keep my diary as usual. I have just found that I tend to be more passive both in physically and intellectually if there is something wrong or I am unsatisfied. However, I have to kick out this bad habits and be more active and strong woman.
���������� That's why I am writing this diary in this site and change myself. I'm gonna be alright afterall even I have still some pain inside. I can do my homework on time, I can be friendly with my roommates, I can restore my friendships with my old buddies. I will be in balanced life.
American Stone Construction and Design, 4950 N. Elson, Chicago, Il. 60630.� Owner is Marcel Somfelean. On Nov. 19, 2007 I signed a contract with the above company for 4 floor and 4 wall cabinets.� I gave them a deposit of $975.00 and the balance was $975.00� The delivery date would be before Dec. 25th.� Between Dec. 26 and Jan. 9, 2008 several appointments were made to deliver cabinets but they were all a no show.� So on Jan. l0, 2008 I filed a complaint at small claims court against the company for $975.00.�� On Jan. l2 I was notified the cabinets would be delivered in l0 minutes.� There were several discrepancies with the cabinets when the drivers came and Mr. Somfelean agreed to reduce balance to $600.00.� So I gave drivers a check for $600.00.
On Jan. 30, 2008 I found out that the cabinets I received were from Smart Company� and not from Armstrong Co.� Also Smart Co. was not producing the cabinets I received anymore.� The style and the stain of the cabinets I received were not the ones I ordered.� So I decided to go ahead and sue Mr. Somfelean for $975.00� The circuit court date was April 23rd.� On this date both Mr. Somfelean and I appeared in court.� The judge made a judgment for me for $350.00 plus court cost.� But Mr. Somfelean just walked out of court and didn't pay me.� I filed a citation notice but� it was not delivered as the company went out of business.��� Maxine Jaffee
gurlassasin 41, Female, Philippines - 4 entries
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