<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210</id><updated>2011-06-07T23:51:21.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MK stories</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>SveinungEriksen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03331564873438765510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210.post-108879930444190141</id><published>2004-07-02T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-03T05:55:59.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"An eternally long cab-ride."</title><content type='html'>An evening in the life of a teenage girl without a car in Ethiopia:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cab ride yesterday, no, I better be safe and call it a road trip, was by far the most shady (for those that do not know what shady means; basically, you do not want to repeat it) out of any cab experience I have had in Ethiopia. Now, that is saying a lot. Over my time in Ethiopia I have ridden in cabs where I can see the bottom of the street whizzing by through a hole in the floorboard, I have been proposed to by drivers, I have created false nationalities and life stories to avoid conflict, I have been chased for more money than originally agreed to, I have had the car stall and the driver fix it by hotwiring the cab, I have gotten stuck in the cab because the doors don’t open from the inside, I have opened a door and had it fall off, I have been wrongly dropped off at a Tobacco company (and many other undesired places), I have had to get out and push cabs to the nearest gas station; however, I always got to my destination within an hour of leaving. That is more than I can say for my cab ride yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Jamie, Sunny, Andrew and I had an entire evening of activities planed. Our adventure started the second we stepped out of the security of the SIM Head Quarters gate. There, on the outside of what can only be know to Ethiopians as the ‘Jack Pot’ for “frengies” (foreigners) needing cabs, we were immediately surrounded by 10 cab drivers trying to convince us to ride with them. To avoid a conflict between all of the cab drivers, we got in the cab that was closest to us. Unfortunately, we did not successfully keep everyone happy. One of the cab drivers, which Jamie had used during the afternoon, was under the impression that Jamie would always use him. Therefore, he waited all afternoon for Jamie to need to go somewhere again. Therefore, when she did leave, and did not use him, it was nothing short of frenzy. As, Andrew, Sunny, and I unsuccessfully tried to get in the cab; Jamie paid this cab driver to thank him for waiting. One problem taken care of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next problem was getting in the cab. On the wonderfully chosen cab, the door handles did not open easily when getting in, and were non-exist ant when trying to get out. I know, I know, you are thinking that every car must have a door handle to get out. Well, I can say from personal experience this cab did not. How you got in the cab was by the driver gracefully climbing over the front seat to smash the doors open. However, getting out was a bit of a bigger problem. To get out of the cab we had roll the window (Not actually the window. The manually operated window in fact opened the door) up, or maybe down, or maybe sideways. Now, if I had figured out exactly how to open the door I could explain. Unfortunately, the truth is, it was luck every time I successfully opened the door. Really, we had to sit there with the window gadget and rotate it back and forth until hopefully the door popped open. You know, as I think back to last night, I am not sure the door every really shut. During the entire duration of the ‘road trip’ I had nothing less than gale force drafts of cold air and rain coming through the door. We finally got in, for the time being another problem acknowledged. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first stop was my house; we wanted to pick up a movie. “We want to go to the old airport region” is what we told the cab driver in Amharic. He acknowledged what we said; therefore, when drove in the wrong direction I was not sure where the communication error had been. In fact, this was not the end of our cross communicational issues. By the time we actually arrived at my house, we had taken the wrong turn twice and had to scream ‘wedakin’ right and ‘wedagra’ left at the top of our lungs another 20 times. I mean really, what was going on? Finally, we got to my house only to find we did not have the movie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off we went again, this time to the Young Life Ethiopia house to get the movie. One this section of the journey our cab driver was feeling bad about not driving well to my house and tried to make up for the slow time and hurry things up. In Ethiopia, when you want to hurry things up in a car, your life is on the line. So, off we go down an entire street passing the people in our lane by going into head on traffic. Well, this did not go over so well with the passengers, so, we made him stop. He was still upset about driving bad when his car ran out of gas. Therefore, we coasted into a gas station and refilled with our own money. Of course, he was out, why should we not pay? After we refueled, we finally got to the Young Life Ethiopia house with only one wrong turn. However, as we sat waiting for Jamie to go in and get the movie I started to see smoke billowing from the hood. “ You have got to be kidding me,” I thought to myself as I sat with a grin on my face. You know, I am no expert on cars, but usually when you poor fluid into the car you have the engine turned off. I think somehow he was never told that. Instead, up he and the windshield go in a layer of dirt, smoke, and slime. However, that did not matter, the car started running again. “Chigger Yellum” he said as he got back in the car. No Problem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next stop, or so we thought, was a great American restaurant called Family Restaurant. Off we went with a still smoking hood to face the Friday evening traffic on Bole road. This is where you see the skills of drivers within centimeters of each other. Still, to this day the skill, not the order, of Ethiopian driving impresses me! As we drove down Bole and passed the bone yard I could not help but laugh as we tried to role up our windows with the door opener. Needless to say, it did not work and it stunk something awful. To make matters worse, the driver started going the wrong way AGAIN! However, this time he did have a destination, just not the one we were thinking. He had to stop and get gas for his steaming car again. Of course, again, we paid. At this point, sitting in the cab at the gas station with the windows rolled down and the stench of rotting meat flowing the car, it had been a good hour and a half since we left Head Quarters. I was ready to beat my head against the back of the seat. In fact, I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we left the gas station and made it up the hill to the restaurant. However, you would be misinformed if you think we just opened the door and go out. No, we rolled, pushed, beat, and smashed the door open. Finally we were free! The cab driver asked if we would like him to wait for us to take us home. I bet you can guess our response. NO! Running a quick errand had turned into a road trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7385210-108879930444190141?l=mksven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/108879930444190141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7385210&amp;postID=108879930444190141' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108879930444190141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108879930444190141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/2004/07/eternally-long-cab-ride.html' title='&quot;An eternally long cab-ride.&quot;'/><author><name>SveinungEriksen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03331564873438765510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210.post-108801009721110988</id><published>2004-06-23T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-23T12:38:54.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Objective</title><content type='html'>To gather as many MK-stories from Ethiopia as possible. If you do have a great MK-story you want to share with everyone else, email it to me on the following email address: sven_e@email.com &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7385210-108801009721110988?l=mksven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/108801009721110988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7385210&amp;postID=108801009721110988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108801009721110988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108801009721110988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/2004/06/objective.html' title='Objective'/><author><name>SveinungEriksen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03331564873438765510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210.post-108800850093276435</id><published>2004-06-23T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-02T13:09:19.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Director's word</title><content type='html'>My name is Sveinung Eriksen and I'm an MK. (Friends of mine call me Sven, so feel free to do the same). I and have lived in Ethiopia for nine years. I'm born January 30th 1984, and am a norwegian citizen. Most of my childhood was sp in a littl town called Yrga Alem, south in Ethiopia. I don't really have a lot of hobbies, except playing soccer and playing cardgames wt my friends.&lt;br /&gt;My future plan is to get married and to serve the Lord. I am sold out for God, and therefore I want to be used by God, and be willing to follow Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope this site incouraged you to write some of your irreplaceble and unforgetable MK-stories down and have them sent and published on this website. You won't regret! &lt;br /&gt;Missionary Kids, let's stick together, share stories together and have fun together!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope this site will become better and better. You have the power to make it better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sveinung Eriksen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7385210-108800850093276435?l=mksven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/108800850093276435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7385210&amp;postID=108800850093276435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108800850093276435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108800850093276435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/2004/06/directors-word.html' title='Director&apos;s word'/><author><name>SveinungEriksen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03331564873438765510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210.post-108800504208368425</id><published>2004-06-23T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-23T08:37:22.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hailstorms and cardgames.</title><content type='html'>One of the places in Ethiopia me and my family visited most, was the area around a village called Agere Selam. The name means "The Land of Peace" in Amharic. We had a very good friend there who lived at what was left of the old missionary station. When you read this blog, the whole station is closing down their activity for good. It used to be a good primary school here, as well as a bible college. Nowadays, things aren't looking good for the few Ethiopian workers who are left. I visited the station last year, and the usual Ethiopian smile was subsituted with a "nice-to-see-you,-things-are-not-good" expression on their faces. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have not been this depressed all time at Agere Selam. Some years ago I was visiting Liv Hushagen, our friend and lone Norwegian missionary at Hagere Selam. I think this was my first or second visit at this place, but already, I'd met some people and made good contact. This was just past the rainy season, and the weather was cloudy. Together with some Ethiopians, I was laying on the grass, aproximately 50 meters away from the house, playing cards. Eventhough I didn't understand a word they spoke (my Amharic was very basic at that time, and they mostly stuck to their tribal language called Sidamo.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, out of the blue, we were surprised by an extreme hailstorm. It was like the heavens just bursted. Those hails weren't anything like I've ever seen before or later in my life.. They were huge! Not exactly tennisball size, but at least a centimeter in diameter. We soon figured out that couldn't stand the pain of these projectiles hitting our backs and heads, and the house was too far away, so we jumped under a car for shelter. It was then I noticed the extraordinary sound from the hail hitting the ground and the car. We tried to ignore the sound and the cold wind, and started playing cards again. It was a surreal experience, playing cards with people I hardly could understand through body language, in the middle of a storm at 3000 meters above sea level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hail and rain , and when the cold waters with the small ice bergs in started to form a river under the car, we decided to make a run for the Ethiopian hut in the missionary compound. When we entered the hut, we were lucky to find some firewood and matches. We made up a fire, and stood close to it and laughed. It was definently a defining moment in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, when I came "home" to Norway, my mother looked through an old photo album from the first years in Ethiopia. She stopped at a picture and asked me where we had been where there were so many nice white flowers on the ground. It took a little while for both her and I to understand that those "flowers" were hailstones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventhough it wasn't very much of a tropical vacation, I will never forget the sounds and the sights that day many years ago... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7385210-108800504208368425?l=mksven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/108800504208368425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7385210&amp;postID=108800504208368425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108800504208368425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108800504208368425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/2004/06/hailstorms-and-cardgames.html' title='Hailstorms and cardgames.'/><author><name>Andreas</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yB__0C6GqlE/TD-AIJqrLJI/AAAAAAAAEMA/Ufd9QFM97No/S220/CIMG1301.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210.post-108792855351619463</id><published>2004-06-22T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-22T11:22:33.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping trip with MKs at Langano</title><content type='html'>Two years ago, a bunch of ex-MK's and I went down to Langano camping to spend some time together, have fun, go waterskiing to create memories for life. &lt;br /&gt;We sure did create some irreplaceble memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early in the morning, Tor Martin Rannestad, Mathias Kiel Nielsen, Richard and Sveinung Kiplesund, Tore Langhelle, Lars Magnus and John Reidar Eriksen and I heated up the cars and started our journey heading for Langano. On our way, we stopped by a baker to buy some fresh bread for the day. &lt;br /&gt;From the capital city of Ethiopia, Addis Ababa, it takes about three hours to reach Lake Langano. &lt;br /&gt;Along with us, we brought two tents, firewood, some boilers(to cook food in), and a lot of softdrinks. This would be a great trip! It turned out to be exactly what we wanted. We waterskiied from the Eriksen's 50-horsepower-boat and at night, we all sat around the campfire talking and laughing together. A real boy's trip. No attractive girl was in sight, and was completely out of our minds. We stayed in Langano for weekend, and it was a weekend well spent. &lt;br /&gt;The saturday night meal consisted of chicken, noodles and fresh bread from a local baker (located not far away from the beach). Mathias Kiel Nielsen and I went and bought a chicken, and slayed it with our own hands. It was a bloody affair, but remember: we are tough guys, right?&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the meal was definitively tasty. &lt;br /&gt;The following day(Sunday) we loaded up the cars again and went for a three-hour ride back to Addis Ababa, where the attractive girls was in sight! ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7385210-108792855351619463?l=mksven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/108792855351619463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7385210&amp;postID=108792855351619463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108792855351619463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108792855351619463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/2004/06/camping-trip-with-mks-at-langano.html' title='Camping trip with MKs at Langano'/><author><name>SveinungEriksen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03331564873438765510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210.post-108792685919749348</id><published>2004-06-22T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-22T10:54:19.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/58/1180/640/105_0552.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/58/1180/320/105_0552.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture taken at Langano.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7385210-108792685919749348?l=mksven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/108792685919749348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7385210&amp;postID=108792685919749348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108792685919749348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108792685919749348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/2004/06/picture-taken-at-langano.html' title=''/><author><name>SveinungEriksen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03331564873438765510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210.post-108792671462390270</id><published>2004-06-22T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-22T10:55:33.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Langano, the place to be.</title><content type='html'>Langano, is a beautiful place to spend a holiday. It is a warm, nice and cozy place to be, indeed. Instead of being around noice, din and filthy smog (you get from the city),you're finding yourself lying on a wonderful beach, suntaning, drinking a cold coke and knowing that all troubles are far away(for the moment). &lt;br /&gt;The sun is always up, and on a normal day(in the dry-season), the temperature often exceeds 30°C. If you're getting to heated up, the posibility of cooling oneself down with a pleasant bath in the lake of Langano, is by all means present-and it's free. You can either rent a bungalow or camp by the beach.&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't it sound tempting? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7385210-108792671462390270?l=mksven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/108792671462390270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7385210&amp;postID=108792671462390270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108792671462390270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108792671462390270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/2004/06/langano-place-to-be.html' title='Langano, the place to be.'/><author><name>SveinungEriksen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03331564873438765510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7385210.post-108785333578852206</id><published>2004-06-21T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-12T22:17:38.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Train Ride in Ethiopia</title><content type='html'>MK stories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter one&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering taking the train to Dire Dawa? Do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visiting Ethiopia, I can assure you that Addis Ababa is not the right place to be if you want to experience the feeling of being in Africa. A good friend of mine, Sveinung Kiplesund and I, decided to take a trip to see more of Ethiopia, the country we both grew up in. Little did we know what the next five days would be like. But that's the whole fun of taking trips like this. Wanting to experience the unknown...The trip turned out to be great. This was one of my founded trips I have ever had. I have never regreted this five-days trip till this day.Wanting to experience something unique of Africa? Take the train!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stereotypical picture of a train in Europe is far from what it is in Ethiopia. While the trains in Europe have high quality standards, are the trains in Ethiopia the direct opposite. These trains are of so bad quality that it needs a visit and a tryout. You relly get the feeling of being in Africa when you go with the train. The trains are overloaded with people, animals and luggage. Some times you wonder how they manage to squeeze everything onto the train. A wonderful sight.&lt;br /&gt;The train I'm talking about has its main station in Addis Ababa, and goes north-east heading for Dire Dawa, a beautiful town located not far from Djibouti and the Arabian peninsula.&lt;br /&gt;On first class, the seats were padded and were quite comfortable to sit in. This is where I sat. Finding out that the trainride would last for about 22 hours, the desission on where to sit was never an issue. The second class wagon was different. Here people were sitting on 90 degrees wooden benches,the wagon was way overloaded and people often times sat on top of each other to find a place to sit. Not only did the train go at a pace of 30 km/t, but it also had to stop inbetween the stations because there were either animals or human activities on the rails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave the necessaries at home:&lt;br /&gt;On the way to our final destination, Dire Dawa, the train stops at every station, not only to pick up passengers, but also feeding the passengers already being on board. People gather around the windows(thank God that there were windows on that train), with a variety of foods and drinks to sell. The most popular food was something called "Samboosa", a triangular-shaped with a crunshy crust-quite tasty. Gum, botles of sodas and cigarettes were sold too. There are a mulitiple of similar stops like this, so hungry fellows; don't worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the train:&lt;br /&gt;Hearing a story from other MK's where they got robbed on the train, we decided to be night watchmen. While he slept for 30 minutes, I tried to watch out and hinder a possible robbery, and after a half hour, we switched roles. We faced one problem, though: There is so lights in the train, and our flashlights had died out and we ran out of batteries shortly after we left Addis. This would be an interesting night. It turned out that we were right. After about 5 hours after darkness, a woman started screaming and making a lot of din. She was screaming in Orominja(one of the main languages in Ethiopia). I had befriended an old man on the way, and he told me that there was a man who had tried to rape this woman. The train stopped and in not very long, the police showed up, and cleared out the situation. What happened to the man trying to rape the woman, I don't know. Not much happened after that, that is worth mentioning, other than I waking up by a terrible smell. The old man farted, and it smelled like rotten eggs, combined with a slight smell of yesterday's dinner. Till this day, I still wonder what he ate. It was horrible, that is true. At dawn, both Sveinung Kiplesund and I decided to pay the toilet a visit. The toilet, or I should say the entire lavatory was not a pretty sight, and would need a wash. The toilet itself was a hole in the floor. Looking down the hole, you could see the rails. On the walls and on the floor there was a thick layer (about one centimeter) of poop, urine and puke. Prettty digusting! You would stand in excrements of every sort at a distance of 2 meter from the hole.&lt;br /&gt;My stay at the bathroom was my shortest stay in a bathroom ever! No question about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy with the chamber pot:&lt;br /&gt;Sitting accross from me, next to his mother and two siblings, was a little boy, probably about 8 or 9 years old. He seemed to be the oldest child of the three, and was very helpful and nice to his siblings and his mother. Suddenly, a chamber pot was pulled out from underneath the seat. To save time, all three kids took turns in pooping in the chamber pot, before getting rid of the contents. By the time the three kids were done, the pot was fairly filled up. Being a good older brother, the little boy took care of the task got rid of it. Unlike Sveinung and I, the little boy did not enter the bathroom. He opened the door, and without looking, he emptied the pot by throwing the feaces all over the lavatory. No one used the bathroom after that - no wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The excitement rose when Dire Dawa appeared in the horizon. We had experienced a great trip, spiced up by many interesting happenings.&lt;br /&gt;My advice to you: Don't doubt the thought of taking the train. It's worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dire Dawa &amp;amp; Harer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing my good friend and I noticed was that Dire Dawa was not only an old town with many old buildings, but it was also very clean.&lt;br /&gt;By the time this trip took place, the world cup 2002 on and was broadcasted on TV in every bar and hotel nearby. Ethiopians have such a passion for soccer, that every age is represented if there is a local soccergame being played. We were not surprised when every bar was filled up with eagerly cheering fans. Walking in the streets, not a single begger was to be found. Strange but interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still in day 2 of our 5-day-trip, we decided to go directly to the nearest taxi/bus-stop and get on a taxi taking us to another town on our list of "to see's". For 50 birr each, we jumped on the nearest taxi- heading for the town, Harer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chat, the drug eveyone chews, was definitively affect the driver as he drove up the hills, cutting turns and driving in an enormous speed. Crazy, many would say. Going from Dire Dawa,riding in a taxi, you would either make it all the way to Harer, or you would die on the way. You see, there are so such thing as a fence on the side of the road. On the right side, there was a rock wall, and on the other side a precipice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally reaching Harer, the forth holiest city for the muslims, we checked in at a hotel(with motel standards), before getting some food.&lt;br /&gt;Harer, just like Dire Dawa was very clean. I can't remember how many mosques and churches we saw, but a fair number is an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;At night, around 07:00pm we went down to the city border. Reason? To see the hyena-man.&lt;br /&gt;The hyena-man is well known in Ethiopia, and is often portrayed on t-shirts, posters and postcards. A celeberty! Being surrounded by hungry hyenas, the hyena-man started calling on them, and throwing out bits and pieces of meat. In a period of five minutes, the hyena-man was surrounded by hyenas slobbering for more food. He started feeding them from a stick he held in the palm of his hand and later on from his mouth. The crowd of people watching the hyena-man as he fed the hyenas were gazing with admiration at the hyena-man. Later on, I asked the hyena-man if I could try to feed the hyena, which turned out to not be a problem at all. I did it, and so did my friend Sveinung. We fed the hyenas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day three was just around the corner, and on the following day(day three), we packed our stuff, and started our journey back to Dire Dawa, where we would spend one day, before heading back to Addis Ababa.&lt;br /&gt;(Day four)&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much happened in Dire Dawa that day. Sveinung and I decided to take the bus instead of the train back to Addis Ababa, just so we could experience that as well.&lt;br /&gt;(Day five)&lt;br /&gt;The positive aspect about taking the bus was that it only lasted for 14 hours. Here is the negative aspect of the bus-ride: It was around 40 degrees celcius outside, but hotter inside the bus. Sveinung and I started sweating, and we wanted to open a window to cool down some. That was not a very popular move by us, and was not approved by our fellow passengers. It's expensive to be sick in Ethiopia, so they were frightened of catching a cold if a draught in the bus would occur. We had to obay, but managed to make a tiny crack in the window, so we got some fresh air afterall.&lt;br /&gt;Finally being back in Addis Ababa, it felt great to take a shower.&lt;br /&gt;I have never regreted this trip till this day, and I have just positive and wonderful memories from the trip.&lt;br /&gt;I highly recommend this trip to anyone who's visiting Ethiopia. The trip will definitively give you memories for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7385210-108785333578852206?l=mksven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/feeds/108785333578852206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7385210&amp;postID=108785333578852206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108785333578852206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7385210/posts/default/108785333578852206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mksven.blogspot.com/2004/06/train-ride-in-ethiopia.html' title='Train Ride in Ethiopia'/><author><name>SveinungEriksen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03331564873438765510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
