Sunday, March 4, 2007

Monday, 19th Feb 2007

To: Camp on Guest House Grounds by Portugese Bridge (forgot to map on GPS)

Woo hooooo! Reached an elevation of 10,000 feet today! All was great, climbed a lot, feeling good, until...

The thieving adventure. It happened just before lunch. I was climbing the last 2 km to lunch and it was a real climb, so I was going oh-so-slowly. So slowly, in fact, that many many Ethiopian children could easily walk (not even run) next to me. Which they did. That was o.k., but the problem was that they kept touching me and my bike. I kept saying, "Atenkow" ("don't touch") and they'd let go for about 1 second, then back at it again. All the while, I'm trying to peddle and climb. Not easy. LOTS of kids. With LOTS of enthusiasm, talking, yelling, touching me and bike. All the while I'm huffing and puffing and I keep turning around to see what they are touching on my bike. Finally, a point came where it felt like they had grabbed the bike and I couldn't peddle! So, I stopped, turned around and said, "HEY!" in a very annoyed voice. At this, they all ran away. I thought, "Aaahhhh, how peaceful," as I made the rest of my way up to lunch.

When I got to Thor's lunch truck, some of my friends who were already there cheered, because it was a big climb for all of us. I felt great! But as soon as I got off the bike, I realized that one of the zippers on my rear bag (that I use to carry my daily stuff) was open! I quickly looked inside and sure enough, my plastic bag that carried my book and journal was gone! Oooohhhh, I was very distraught. That is when the real adventure began. Thor agreed to take me back down the hill to see if we could find the kid who stole it. Addis, an Ethiopian cyclist who is riding with us, agreed to go with us, to be the communicator. Down the hill we went. When we found a group of men at the bottom of the hill, near the bridge that goes into town, Addis started explaining what we wanted and that there would be a reward for the person who found the stuff. (My JOURNAL, after all!) These men asked whether the touching, grabbing children occurred on the hill to the right of town, or the one that led up to town (there had been another hill, this one about 5 km long, leading up to town). I said that it was the one leading out of town. They kept insisting that it must have occurred on the hill leading into town. Why? The reason was that they knew some "bad boys" who lived on the hill leading into town, but there are no "bad boys" on the hill leading out of town. I just sighed and said to Addis, "Tell them not to think necessarily of 'bad boys', but 'mishievous kids'. Anyway, it definitely happened on the hill leading out of town." So, Addis and the men talked some more and the men said they would start spreading the word. I kept emphasizing the reward. My thought was that if the word gets out, all over the hill, somebody will come forth.

Then, Addis and I walked up the hill a bit, and came across a few more people. Addis again explained the whole story. As they were talking, two of the men all of a sudden pointed across the field, and started running at high speed!

"What's going on?" I asked.
Addis said, "They've seen the boys who took your stuff."
I asked, "How do they know?"
Addis said, "Do you see those boys over there? Way, way over there? They are running away from us. Why would they do that? Kids don't usually run away from foreigners. They usually get curious and run toward foreigners."
I thought this was pretty flimsy evidence, but thought, "O.k., we'll see."

Then, Addis and I walked a little further, came across more people, and told the story again. One kid ran off to help the two men who were chasing the boys across the field. They were very far away and I couldn't really see them, even though Addis kept pointing them out. After about 15 minutes, the kid came back and said that "they were closing in on the boys". We kept waiting to see what would happen. After another 15 minutes, another young kid came running back. When he arrived, he handed me a half-roll of toilet paper. I said, "Yes! This is evidence that they have the right bag. This toilet paper was in the bag too! But what I really need is the journal. Where did you get this toilet paper?"

The kid said that the boys, while running, had just thrown the toilet paper on the ground. O.k., fine, but at least that means we know which boys we are looking for. Eventually, more and more people were involved. Many of the older people clicked their tongues, and, according to Addis, they were saying things like, "I can't believe that one of ours would steal from the foreigner." It shocked me that they said that. I thought and said, "But didn't they see the kids grabbing and holding me and my bike? Also, don't they see the kids throwing rocks at us?" I noticed that Addis translated none of what I'd said. Probably just as well...

Eventually and slowly, all my stuff came back, even things I'd forgotten were in the plastic bag, like a business card for my landlord in Uganda. (My landlord in Uganda had happened to be on the same flight as me when I went from Entebbe to Nairobi, on my way to Cairo. He'd asked me to e-mail him along the way to tell him how thing are going, and so he'd given me his business card.) The only thing that didn't return was... the journal!

People were looking and looking. Some people suggested that we go to the police and have the police question the boys and find out where the journal was. Frankly, I was worried about that. I didn't know what kind of "questionning" would be involved. Yes, I was annoyed that they'd stolen my stuff, but... didn't necessarily want them beaten to a pulp, just wanted my stuff back.

Eventually, Thor and the truck had to leave. Addis and I said we would stick around the village in hopes of the journal showing up, now that everybody knew about the reward. It never did show up. I suspect that it sunk to the bottom of the river, under the bridge. I suspect this because some kids did find the (empty) plastic bag, in the river. Eventually, Addis and I gave up and hitched a ride to our next destination. The people who picked us up were businessmen from Addis Ababa. They were very, very friendly, and very, very sorry for what had happened. I kept saying, "It's o.k. It's not your fault. That kind of thing can happen anywhere."

When we arrived at our next destination, there was still some daylight left, so we walked about 1 mile down to the famous "Portugese Bridge". Apparently, it was built in the 1600's and ostrich egg shells and egg white was used as mortar. Ethiopia really does have a rich history.
------------------ TODAY --------------- TOTAL
Cycled ----------- 49 km (31 mi) --------- 2,300 km (1,430 mi)
Sagged ----------- 38 km (24 mi) -------- 1,042 km (759 mi)
Total ------------- 87 km (55 mi) -------- 3,342 km (2,189 mi)
In Saddle --------- 4 hours --------------- 143 hrs 41 min
Ascended --------- 1,800 feet ------------ 28,150 feet

No comments: