Ethiopian Police - there goes another pre-conception

Hi there,

You may detect a jaunty air to my greeting above. That's because I am feeling pretty damned jaunty.

I have had phone calls from both Shmondi (remember him?) and from Sergeant Gezay of the Tigray State Police in Axum (the one Shmondi said was "very good"). Sgt Gezay has recovered my camera and arrested three "crime persons". The camera battery was flat, so he could not tell me whether my photos had been deleted or not. He said the thief would almost certainly have deleted everything to make it harder to identify the camera.

Once I had faxed my written instructions, he sent the camera by air to the Federal Police at the airport in Addis Ababa - where I had just arrived. It got here the same day at no cost to me, and I was told I could collect it from Commander Mengisteab at the airport.

It seems that Sergeant Gezay had worked tirelessly for a week to find my camera and bring the miscreants to justice. Tourism is very important to Axum, to Tigray and to Ethiopia. A crime against a visitor is therefore a crime against the town, the state and the whole country.

The thief and two receivers are now in custody. Knowing the quality of many African hotels, I don't envy anybody languishing in an Ethiopian prison awaiting trial. I don't envy the villains when they come out of prison either - and have to face the contempt of their neighbours. I am told that in parts of Africa thieves caught red-handed are often beaten on the spot by a vengeful mob - sometimes to death .

An added bonus of the episode is the example it will give to everybody in the small town of Axum - in particular that Sgt Gezay doesn't give up until he gets his man. A spasm of Catholic guilt had me thinking that I was partly to blame for these poor chaps' undoing by putting temptation in their way. I suppressed it fairly quickly. And they did it to themselves for nothing. Without the cables and software the camera is useless.

What would the chances be of a tourist ever seeing his camera again if it was stolen in England? What would be the chances of the police even bothering to investigate the crime?

And what was your mental image of the investigative powers and attitude of an Ethiopian policeman, and his desire to help a foreigner who had been stupid enough to get his camera stolen? Not much different from mine I would guess. So bang goes another pre-conception - of mine and I hope of yours.

The laconic members of airport security and the police sprang to attention at the mention of Commander Mengistaeb's name. I was greeted by him with great respect and good-humour, and quickly reunited with my camera.

Back at the hotel, with the battery charged, I was able to report (by text - verbal communication being somewhat difficult for all parties) to Shmondi and both the policemen cited above that not a single one of my photos had been deleted. Not only did they all respond quickly to tell me how delighted they were, but the police commander in Axum - Sgt Gezay's boss, whom I had never met - also sent a similar text message.

They were even more delighted when I told them that there were several photos in the camera memory taken after the theft - including some self-portraits of the idiots who stole it. Dubious-looking young men to be sure.

I said earlier that the story did not have a happy ending. I spoke too soon.

I know, I know, I still haven't told you properly about my travels in Ethiopia to date. If anybody is still reading my drivel, I crave your patience. It is all ready to post when I can overcome some IT issues. Where is my old colleague Jon Storer when I need him?

While I'm here, I want to tell you about my first impressions of Addis Ababa. But first let me give another quote from Marek. When four of us got into a taxi after dinner at the Sheraton, he said to the driver that he wanted to go to a night club, but that first he needed to go back to the hotel to "take a shit". Presumably to avoid raising expectations of a big tip, he went on to tell him that the meal was very cheap, and we had only gone to the Sheraton because we had been camping and "eating only shit". Back on the subject of night clubs he said he wanted one with nice women "not shit". It may not have done much for the driver's English vocabulary but it seemed to amuse him as much as us.

OK those first impressions: Addis is a big, big city. Obviously it has slum areas, but they are much less apparent than in Caracas, Rio, Buenos Aires or Lima. It feels much safer than any of them. The town is generally clean with many modern buildings including shopping centres which look better than those in many English provincial towns and cities. There seems to be a small development boom - giving an air of optimism. On top of that there is much amusement to be derived from the standard of driving, which is both entertaining and an art form.

And now for some second impressions. I went to the famous Mercato, the biggest of it's type in Africa. Lonely Planet gave it an enormous build-up emphasising its atmospheric nature and the exotic items to be found there. I am now able to report that it is a proper dump - with additional African dumpiness. The goods on sale were totally prosaic. Cheap clothes, cheap shoes, cheap hardware, cheap household stuff. Every stall has piles of cardboard boxes containing all the stock not on display. I saw one box marked "Made in Egypt" one marked "Made in India" all, and I mean all, the other boxes were marked - you guessed it ....

After a thorough and methodical grid-pattern search, I found no live animals for sale and no firearms, let alone Kalashnikovs. Where the hell do these travel writers get their information from? Do they plagiarise out-of-date stuff from other writers, who in turn plagiarise their predecessors? Or do they just make it all up? It is not for me to say.

On the way back, my pocket was picked. This only increased my jauntiness. My valuables were all safely zipped away, and the poor chap only got the dummy wallet I always carry when travelling. It contained 3 US dollars, 3 Ethiopian Birrs and some expired credit cards. About GBP1.60 in total. I had to admire the technique. No. 1 bloke backed into me, trod on my toe then took my hand and kissed it whilst pouring out apologies. Presumably during this piece of business, bloke No. 2 dipped in. Even though I realised what had happened almost immediately, the only person I would have recognised is bloke No. 1 who would of course have nothing on him - his accomplice, whom I would not have recognised, having melted away with his disappointing spoils.

Maybe my luck is changing.

Chris