Backlog, August 5: Addis dissin’ me

Addis is cold. Both in temperature and temperament. The immigration authorities took my passport upon arrival. This, following three days stuck in Gambella because a) my passport was stuck in Nairobi, b) my contact person traveling with my tickets missed his flight, c) the plane was full, etc etc etc., was not exactly the warm, post-Sudan reception I had hoped for. After last round battling immigration and being deported back to Sudan, overland, one would ask why I traveled via Gambella, where there is no immigration office, again. I would tell them that there was no other way, that south Sudan has no roads connecting Upper Nile to Juba, that the rains were so heavy I couldn’t leave by air, that the armed banditry on the roads between my town and the neighboring town meant I couldn’t travel inland, that I didn’t want to go to nasty, malaria-riddled Gambella by quadbike, that THEY should have immigration offices at their borders, but they wouldn’t listen. They would, however, berate me, asking if Mexicans attempt to enter the US without visas, and then yell at me some more, in Amharic, when I told them we have a fence. So I’m off to court now. Hopefully I’ll have a passport and visa sometime within the next two weeks so that I can leave this continent. Thanks for beating me up this round, mother Africa.



Backlog: August 6: and the saga continues.

So I went to court, twice and someone suspected that I had been in trouble in Ethiopia before. Evidently it’s not so common to get a white lady causing such trouble. No resolve. Back to court on Friday for my ‘hearing’ or trial if you will… and if you wont then…well, I’m out of answers. Nothing here makes much sense. Except for good food and friends. And
company expense accounts (haha, humanitarianism, psssh, jk).





Hopefully someone is on my team.