Today, as the boys continue their mission to turn us into proper habasha, we were taken to experience billiardo. This is a popular game throughout Ethiopia apparently, and (alongside spaghetti bolognaise) is a lasting reminder of the short-lived Italian occupation from 1936 to 1941. The Tigray region was the first part of Ethiopia to fall to Mussolini’s Italian forces as Haile Selasie’s rule was challenged for the first time. The Tigrean nobility were charmed by the Italian forces who already ruled the historically and culturally close Eritrea. Some of them even took the Italian side in the subsequent wars with Ethiopia – forget the military oath of ‘Ethiopia First’! By the beginning of November 1935, Mekele was one of the occupied towns followed by the last decisive victory at Maychew. It was at this point that emperor Haile Selasie went into exile and mass violence erupted on the streets.
Alongside spaghetti bolognaise and billiardo, there are other testaments to the Italian occupation including various architecture. Perhaps the more important building was within the transport infrastructure where they built many roads (particularly in the north) over difficult terrain. However, this can be set against their largely successful aim of destroying indigenous business; replacing it with parastatal organisations. The legacy of this continues today, whilst the agriculture industry took many years to recover.
Ultimately the high level of resistance to regime from within Ethiopia lead to a collapse of the ‘Italian East Africa’ (Ethiopia, Eritrea and Italian Somaliland) and when the Allied liberation campaign arrived in January 1941, the British army had a very easy victory over the Italians.
Interestingly, the children don’t like pizza. On our walk back to St Vincent’s, where we are getting a bigger and bigger escort as each day passes, the beneficiaries pointed out Yordano’s where we have been on several occasions – including kidnapping all the sisters on Monday night for Sr Medhino’s birthday where we had pizza with no cheese, as they had run out. This was reminiscent of more random food/drink events such as John’s warm orange juice at the Axum Hotel, “it is because it is freeesh” and the adding of water to coke (I have only been ‘done’ once so far) and adding salt instead of sugar to coffee. Anyway, when a group of no doubt very well intentioned volunteers took the children to Yordano’s for pizza, they were all apparently sick. I guess if an Ethiopian came to England and took a group of teenagers out for injera they would not be too impressed!
Back to billiardo, a game for people with time on their hands, and I will attempt to give a brief overview of the rules. This was after an hour of watching and asking questions to Desta (a chap who had very good English), the ‘shark’ and naturally the boys. Apparently, gambling is illegal in Ethiopia, and so I am not allowed to mention the fact that the game is often played for money as well as the cost of the table (5Birr 40cents per hour). Billardo tables are often found in rooms not much bigger than the tables themselves. It looked like a smallish snooker table, but had the middle two pockets filled and there was not a cue in sight. A few sticks for knocking balls back to the contestants but nothing more. Each player (2 or 3 apparently!?)has 4 balls each, white or red. The aim is get as many points as possible, making a target (which could be very high) and you can d this in various ways. You gain 1 to 4 points if you win each round depending on how many of the winners balls are closest to the blue ball. Applause is generally given for a four pointer. Additionally there is a diamond of 4 white and one red mini-skittles in the centre of the table. If you knock down the skittles with the blue ball you get two points for each white skittle and one point for each red. There are various rules on whether or not it has to hit the back cushion depending on where the blue is positioned (before or after the half way line). Each time, it is the player who is not closest to the blue who takes their turn – sometimes going slowly to sneak in closer to the blue, other times going in hard to knock away the opposition. On top of this, it is also possible to loose points. You do this if you pocket one of your balls (-2), but gain two if you pot one of your oppositions. As well, you lose the respective points (2 or 4) if knock over the skittles with your red and white balls.
I think that is a brief overview of billiardo, but I may be wrong. Games can go on for hours, if not days. Daniel started a game at 12 (6pm) and played until 7 (1am), however it was not finished so had to restart at 2 (8am) and was still there at lunchtime!
While we were in the billiardo ‘hall’, the boys showed me a box of blankets under the table. I asked who they belonged to, and they told me it was where Gebrematian sleeps. He is the unpaid guard of the billiardo. He gets a roof over his head, and they get a security guard. I guess it is a good arrangement for both parties. Relatively good that is, better than being out on the streets completely, but still a long long way from ideal for a teenager wanting to succeed in school and fulfil his potential in life.
--------------------------------------
I am also getting to know the students a lot better and as well as being welcomed into their social lives, I am finding out more about the world from which they come and exist in. It’s very alien still, and I will obviously never be able to fully comprehend exactly what it must be like to be a ‘street child’. It does help to go beyond the smile that greets you at Abba Gebremichael, because the difficulties they face are left at the project gates.
To put this into context, I got taught today about how the education system works in Ethiopia. The government schools run from 1st grade to 12th grade before transferring students who pass 12th grade on to university. You can only take one grade per year and if you fail you must repeat or leave the school. Up to 9th grade all classes are in Tigrinyian, except for English. From 9th grade onwards, everything is in English except for Tigrinyain lessons. Students are therefore kept in 8th grade if their standard of English is not good enough (Gary and Temescen are about to go into 9th grade are very worried about their English not being up to standard). Interestingly, you only get one shot at university. Most students are there for 4 years, but if you dropout or fail part of your course you cannot repeat unless you pay to go to a private college. The Catholic School is the best one in Mekele, but it is a private school. It costs around 150Birr per month (£8.30) and even though there are very few Catholics in the town most students would love to go there.
Over lunch, I was told the story of one of the students who I know well from the project. He’ll rename nameless in this story though. He is 20 years of age, but is just going into 6th grade. If he was a student in England he would have a whole network of support from social workers, education psychologists, behavioural support specialists and so on. Over here he doesn’t even have a home or his parents. He confessed to me that he has anger issues and as much as he can be the most charming, polite and helpful young man, it is clear that he is a boy with many problems. Sr. Fisseha has done much work with him and begged and pleaded with schools to let him return to his education. His behaviour in school was so out of control that he was repeatedly kicked out of every school he attended. His answer was always, “it’s because no-one ever loved me.”. His mother still lives in Mekele, but there is no contact whatsoever. He once said that his dream was to join the army, and the first thing he would do is go and shoot his mum.
I can’t ever imagine what must have gone on in his younger childhood, nor what drove him to such a point. However, with the help and encouragement of the project, he is a lot closer to the path of success. His conversational English is excellent and he shows a great maturity at times. He acknowledges the reasons why he is in classes with students many years younger than him and I genuinely believe him when he says he wants success. Sr Fisseha is always there to remind him that he is loved, perhaps not by his mother but certainly by all those involved in Abba Grebremichael. He has one teacher that has been very good to him in his current school and we all hope that his success continues.
Another student who has a great deal to thank the project for is the hardworking and competent Gebreyesus. He spent a good while living on the streets after being separated from his family. Around 18 months ago, he began attending the project and the sisters took him under their wing. Since then, he has been reunited with his family and both he and they have been provided with counselling from the project. He is very keen to succeed in English and I often give him some extra help with more complex topics. It’s touching that when you ask him what he wants to achieve in life that he replies that his dream to be a doctor doing lots of good work with the poor people. I’m sure I could write a hundred more of these stories of the holistic care that is provided for the children of the project. Gebreyesus very simply puts it that the sisters are “very good people”.
--------------------------------------
Last night was a stark reminder of actually how far away I am from everyone. I have received a handful
of emails in my time here, a few texts, and one phone call from Naomi, which I consider not bad the first two weeks. However last night, everything went wrong! First of all the internet went down at Enet. Jose and Robbi, two teenage boys with excellent English who go above and beyond all call of duty for us, simply told us that they had no idea if or when it would be back on. There were no makiatos today as we left, but they did pass on a note from Linda – a woman who we are travelling with to see some rock-hewn churches on Thursday. Secondly, we worked out that the landline was not working (John’s wife did not make her weekly call). I tried my Ethiopian mobile to call Linda, no joy. I tried to text from my English mobile, no luck at all. Mekele all of a sudden felt like a million miles from home and I retired to bed to write a few emails (in Word to send at a later date). It’s amazing how a short turn of events can hit you pretty hard when you don’t even think you’re that homesick.
Alongside spaghetti bolognaise and billiardo, there are other testaments to the Italian occupation including various architecture. Perhaps the more important building was within the transport infrastructure where they built many roads (particularly in the north) over difficult terrain. However, this can be set against their largely successful aim of destroying indigenous business; replacing it with parastatal organisations. The legacy of this continues today, whilst the agriculture industry took many years to recover.
Ultimately the high level of resistance to regime from within Ethiopia lead to a collapse of the ‘Italian East Africa’ (Ethiopia, Eritrea and Italian Somaliland) and when the Allied liberation campaign arrived in January 1941, the British army had a very easy victory over the Italians.
Interestingly, the children don’t like pizza. On our walk back to St Vincent’s, where we are getting a bigger and bigger escort as each day passes, the beneficiaries pointed out Yordano’s where we have been on several occasions – including kidnapping all the sisters on Monday night for Sr Medhino’s birthday where we had pizza with no cheese, as they had run out. This was reminiscent of more random food/drink events such as John’s warm orange juice at the Axum Hotel, “it is because it is freeesh” and the adding of water to coke (I have only been ‘done’ once so far) and adding salt instead of sugar to coffee. Anyway, when a group of no doubt very well intentioned volunteers took the children to Yordano’s for pizza, they were all apparently sick. I guess if an Ethiopian came to England and took a group of teenagers out for injera they would not be too impressed!
Back to billiardo, a game for people with time on their hands, and I will attempt to give a brief overview of the rules. This was after an hour of watching and asking questions to Desta (a chap who had very good English), the ‘shark’ and naturally the boys. Apparently, gambling is illegal in Ethiopia, and so I am not allowed to mention the fact that the game is often played for money as well as the cost of the table (5Birr 40cents per hour). Billardo tables are often found in rooms not much bigger than the tables themselves. It looked like a smallish snooker table, but had the middle two pockets filled and there was not a cue in sight. A few sticks for knocking balls back to the contestants but nothing more. Each player (2 or 3 apparently!?)has 4 balls each, white or red. The aim is get as many points as possible, making a target (which could be very high) and you can d this in various ways. You gain 1 to 4 points if you win each round depending on how many of the winners balls are closest to the blue ball. Applause is generally given for a four pointer. Additionally there is a diamond of 4 white and one red mini-skittles in the centre of the table. If you knock down the skittles with the blue ball you get two points for each white skittle and one point for each red. There are various rules on whether or not it has to hit the back cushion depending on where the blue is positioned (before or after the half way line). Each time, it is the player who is not closest to the blue who takes their turn – sometimes going slowly to sneak in closer to the blue, other times going in hard to knock away the opposition. On top of this, it is also possible to loose points. You do this if you pocket one of your balls (-2), but gain two if you pot one of your oppositions. As well, you lose the respective points (2 or 4) if knock over the skittles with your red and white balls.
I think that is a brief overview of billiardo, but I may be wrong. Games can go on for hours, if not days. Daniel started a game at 12 (6pm) and played until 7 (1am), however it was not finished so had to restart at 2 (8am) and was still there at lunchtime!
While we were in the billiardo ‘hall’, the boys showed me a box of blankets under the table. I asked who they belonged to, and they told me it was where Gebrematian sleeps. He is the unpaid guard of the billiardo. He gets a roof over his head, and they get a security guard. I guess it is a good arrangement for both parties. Relatively good that is, better than being out on the streets completely, but still a long long way from ideal for a teenager wanting to succeed in school and fulfil his potential in life.
--------------------------------------
I am also getting to know the students a lot better and as well as being welcomed into their social lives, I am finding out more about the world from which they come and exist in. It’s very alien still, and I will obviously never be able to fully comprehend exactly what it must be like to be a ‘street child’. It does help to go beyond the smile that greets you at Abba Gebremichael, because the difficulties they face are left at the project gates.
To put this into context, I got taught today about how the education system works in Ethiopia. The government schools run from 1st grade to 12th grade before transferring students who pass 12th grade on to university. You can only take one grade per year and if you fail you must repeat or leave the school. Up to 9th grade all classes are in Tigrinyian, except for English. From 9th grade onwards, everything is in English except for Tigrinyain lessons. Students are therefore kept in 8th grade if their standard of English is not good enough (Gary and Temescen are about to go into 9th grade are very worried about their English not being up to standard). Interestingly, you only get one shot at university. Most students are there for 4 years, but if you dropout or fail part of your course you cannot repeat unless you pay to go to a private college. The Catholic School is the best one in Mekele, but it is a private school. It costs around 150Birr per month (£8.30) and even though there are very few Catholics in the town most students would love to go there.
Over lunch, I was told the story of one of the students who I know well from the project. He’ll rename nameless in this story though. He is 20 years of age, but is just going into 6th grade. If he was a student in England he would have a whole network of support from social workers, education psychologists, behavioural support specialists and so on. Over here he doesn’t even have a home or his parents. He confessed to me that he has anger issues and as much as he can be the most charming, polite and helpful young man, it is clear that he is a boy with many problems. Sr. Fisseha has done much work with him and begged and pleaded with schools to let him return to his education. His behaviour in school was so out of control that he was repeatedly kicked out of every school he attended. His answer was always, “it’s because no-one ever loved me.”. His mother still lives in Mekele, but there is no contact whatsoever. He once said that his dream was to join the army, and the first thing he would do is go and shoot his mum.
I can’t ever imagine what must have gone on in his younger childhood, nor what drove him to such a point. However, with the help and encouragement of the project, he is a lot closer to the path of success. His conversational English is excellent and he shows a great maturity at times. He acknowledges the reasons why he is in classes with students many years younger than him and I genuinely believe him when he says he wants success. Sr Fisseha is always there to remind him that he is loved, perhaps not by his mother but certainly by all those involved in Abba Grebremichael. He has one teacher that has been very good to him in his current school and we all hope that his success continues.
Another student who has a great deal to thank the project for is the hardworking and competent Gebreyesus. He spent a good while living on the streets after being separated from his family. Around 18 months ago, he began attending the project and the sisters took him under their wing. Since then, he has been reunited with his family and both he and they have been provided with counselling from the project. He is very keen to succeed in English and I often give him some extra help with more complex topics. It’s touching that when you ask him what he wants to achieve in life that he replies that his dream to be a doctor doing lots of good work with the poor people. I’m sure I could write a hundred more of these stories of the holistic care that is provided for the children of the project. Gebreyesus very simply puts it that the sisters are “very good people”.
--------------------------------------
Last night was a stark reminder of actually how far away I am from everyone. I have received a handful
of emails in my time here, a few texts, and one phone call from Naomi, which I consider not bad the first two weeks. However last night, everything went wrong! First of all the internet went down at Enet. Jose and Robbi, two teenage boys with excellent English who go above and beyond all call of duty for us, simply told us that they had no idea if or when it would be back on. There were no makiatos today as we left, but they did pass on a note from Linda – a woman who we are travelling with to see some rock-hewn churches on Thursday. Secondly, we worked out that the landline was not working (John’s wife did not make her weekly call). I tried my Ethiopian mobile to call Linda, no joy. I tried to text from my English mobile, no luck at all. Mekele all of a sudden felt like a million miles from home and I retired to bed to write a few emails (in Word to send at a later date). It’s amazing how a short turn of events can hit you pretty hard when you don’t even think you’re that homesick.
1 comment:
What a lovely photo. I'm assuming those are the sisters? What kind smiles they have!
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