We were delayed and poor Johannes looked tired. I asked, "Have you been waiting long?" He raised an eyebrow and said simply, "Yes, since 8:30." Our flight was supposed to arrive early morning but instead arrived closer to noon. Johannes was accompanied by another American couple which was comforting to me. We were soon greeted by another driver before loading our luggage. We all climbed into the van and drove off to the Riviera Hotel. On our way there we were instantly greeted with a culture so completely different from our own. No kidding, right? Left or right, it didn't matter which way you looked, poverty was everywhere. Amongst the poverty was the hustle and bustle of many Ethiopians working, either in the streets or driving loaded trucks. I saw a crew of road workers covered from head to toe in what I assume is their required work attire, even their faces were covered. Their heads were covered with hats and their hands covered with gloves. I couldn't tell if they were men or women. I just knew they couldn't be comfortable working in the heat. But there they were shoveling dirt and gravel, maybe counting the minutes before their next break.

We continued down the road which was lined on both sides with small huts or shanties. Most of them had corrugated tin roofs. I was surprised, I don't know why, to see many of these self-made homes had no doors. We were able to peer right into the doorways of many of them. I was intrigued by one home particularly, it was filled with about five women. I assume they were preparing a meal or perhaps preparing some coffee (a coffee ceremony takes about three hours to complete). They were sitting on the dirt floor, each one focused on their assigned task, talking amongst themselves. We drove on and I wondered what they could be talking about. There was not a man in sight, so of course I assumed they must me talking about the men or perhaps their children. At that moment, I felt it rude to take a picture, but I'm sorry I hadn't. That moment expressed many things that could have been shared with Aleyah. All I have is the image burned in my memory. I know I will never forget it. I sat there in the van thinking of the "life of luxury" I lived. I panic, just a little, when my AC decides to stop working. After a few hours of discomfort, I'm cooled off once again. My coffee is brewed in less than ten minutes and my cupboards are filled, sometimes with food out of code. It was hard to take it all in.

We continued further down the road and thought it amusing to see goats scattered about the streets. Mules or donkeys (not an expert on the specie), carried heavy loads to their unknown destinations. Poor donkeys, they looked so unamused with cargo teetering to one side or the other while their guide smacked them every now and then. Most heart-wrenching though, were the many children that roamed about without any adult supervision. Were they orphans? Did they have homes, but allowed to roam here and there? Some children I saw carried heavy loads upon their backs. I remember one young boy, maybe nine, struggling to transport a five gallon pail of some liquid to an unknown destination. I wondered if he would receive payment of some kind for the task. Or was it simply his daily chore? Face upon face stared at us Americans traveling through their streets. They must know by now, we Americans, in a very small attempt, are trying to make a difference in the lives of orphaned children. I wish I knew what they really thought about that. Every week, foreigners from all over the world travel to Ethiopia to take home their forgotten children...We eventually arrived at the Riviera Hotel where most of our adventure would take place...
click on photo for a larger view...The second and third photos are from my camera. The first and fourth, I found online.