Kvällsvy från Vika

Nästan hemma så stötte jag på de här krabaterna

Avslutar med en bild på gubben 26/6

Summer is here! This is the season that many love birds eagrly wait for to tie the knot. It is a beautiful thing! Marriage is one of the most sacred institutions where family values are born, raised and passed on to the next of kin who are the fruits of marriage.  For many wedding crashers out there, it is the festivities that attract them but marriage is a holy matrimony and a binding social contract that has more deeper underpinnings and responsibilities.

Let's look at the Oromo perspective of marriage:

• Revealing the Uninterrupted Kushitic Oromo Continuity
• Cultural Gap between Ethiopian Oromos and Abyssinian Amharas & Tigrays
• Unshakable Interconnectedness of the Oromo Society
• Purposes – Pillars of the Oromo Marriage: Humanity and Morality, Peace and Harmony
• Kushitic Originality and Oromo Marriage: More Communal than Individual
• Marriage Practices

Wedding videos from different parts of Oromia

Förra veckan stod det nämligen i tidningen Metro ett sms med följande rubrik:

"Skrapa bort dem!"

Så här löd sms:et:

"Fan vad jag är trött på folk som sätter upp nazistklistermärken. Jag är lika trött på folk inte tar bort dem. Fy fan, det är bara att skrapa."

Sms:et var undertecknat "Gremlinlover".

Det är lite intressant att personen ifråga bara tar upp just en sådan här sak, i och med detta visar också personen att han eller hon är väldigt twofaced.

Om jag hade skickat in ett sms till Metro så skulle det istället ha stått så här:

"Skrapa bort dem!

Fan vad jag är trött på folk som sätter upp klistermärken med reklam för vänsterextrema terroristorganisationer som t ex Syndikalistiska Ungdomsförbundet, Ung Vänster eller Antifascistisk Aktion. Jag är lika trött på folk som inte tar bort dem. Fy fan, det är bara att skrapa."

Dessutom tycker jag att personens singatur "Gremlinlover" säger en hel del.

Alla kommer väl ihåg filmen Gremlins ifrån 1984 som är gjord av Steven Spielberg. Denna film handlade om en söt liten krabat som hette Mogwai och som man bl a inte fick mata eller ge någonting att dricka efter midnatt, för om man gjorde det så bröt det sig ur Mogwaien ut andra Mogwais som var elaka och som så småningom ändrade skepnad till små monster som såg ut ungefär som en blandning mellan harar och kameleonter. Dessa var riktigt elaka och älskade att ställa till sattyg, de kallades också för Gremlins.

Med andra ord undrar jag om signaturen "Gremlinlover" har hamnat till fel sms, eftersom denna signatur passar som spiken i kistan till det sms som jag i så fall skulle ha skickat till Metro.

Kopplingen mellan Gremlins och vänsterextremistiska ligister är ju klockren, eftersom dessa påstår sig värna om demokratin samtidigt som de vandaliserar det mesta i sin väg och ger sig på folk som inte tycker som dem. Snacka om att försöka använda ordet demokrati som täckmantel för att begå fascisthandlingar.

Om man sammanför filmen Gremlins med vänsterextremistiska ligister så blir resultatet följande:

Mogwaien representerar i detta fall den svenska demokratin. Men på grund utav en lag som det är lite si och så med så frigör sig helt plötsligt en massa farliga typer ifrån denna Mogwai, eftersom lagen ifråga har blivit ganska "urvattnad" (man fick ju inte ge Mogwaien vatten efter midnatt). De kryp som frigörs är vänstextrema terrorister, de tillhör dock många olika grupperingar i samhället, tex Antifascistisk Aktion, Ung Vänster, Revolutionära Fronten och Syndikalistiska Ungdomsförbundet.

Skillnaden mellan elaka Mogwais och dessa idioter är dock att de, till skillnad ifrån Mogwaisen, redan från början har "rätt" skepnad som hos Mogwaisen däremot senare förändras till Gremlins.

De vänsterextrema har alltså sin rätta skepnad redan ifrån början. En annan skillnad är också att Gremlins inte är vänstextrema fascister som försöker gömma sig bakom demokratin. Istället står Gremlins redan ifrån början för vad de är för någonting, vilket de vänsterextrema ligisterna aldrig har gjort.

Det som jag menar med allt det här är helt enkelt följande:

Nazister försöker aldrig dölja att de är antidemokrater, det försöker däremot de vänsterextrema ligisterna göra. Man ska helt enkelt stå för vad man är och inte tvärtom, gör man inte det så är man falsk och lurar dessutom sig själv.

Dessutom är flera vänsterextrema ligistgrupperingar som dessa uppsatta på Säpos lista över svenska terroristorganisationer, orsaken till det är att de är ett hot mot demokratin.

Visserligen står ju också nationalsocialistiska organisationer, som t ex Nationalsocialistisk Front, med på denna lista också, men de står ju i alla fall för vad de är.

Angående nerrivandet av klistermärken så går jag dock signaturen "Gremlinlover" till mötes. För när jag ser ett klistermärke ifrån någon vänsterextrem ligist- och terroristorganisation, t ex Ung Vänster och Syndikalistiska Ungdomsförbundet, så river jag ner det.

Varför? Jo, därför att de säger att de är någonting som de inte är.

De är med andra ord twofaced.

http://www.muddydogcoffee.com

http://www.muddydogcoffee.com

De Ethiopische regering lanceerde vorige week maandag een nieuw koffiemerk om het inkomen van de 15 miljoen koffieboeren in het land een nieuwe impuls te geven. De regering pakte uit met een innovatief en totaal nieuw merkmanagementprogramma met de bedoeling de Ethiopische exportindustrie van fijne en unieke koffies te promoten.

Het is de eerste keer dat een Afrikaanse natie een dergelijke hedendaagse aanpak van merkmanagement volgt in de ontwikkeling van haar economie. Daarmee leidt Ethiopië een nieuw tijdperk in de economische ontwikkeling en onafhankelijkheid van het continent in, zeggen experts in de internationale koffiemarkt.

Ethiopië is de bakermat van de koffie en het land exporteert meer dan 177.000 ton koffie per jaar, wat ongeveer 15% is van de totale wereldproductie van koffie. Mensen uit het vak kennen de kwaliteit van de Ethiopische koffie, maar koffievariëteiten als Yirgacheffe, Sidamo en Harar zijn nog weinig bekend bij het grote publiek.

Merkspecialist Brandhouse kreeg de opdracht een herkenbaar merksysteem te ontwikkelen voor de Ethiopische fijne koffies. De nieuwe merkidentiteit omvat een centraal logo voor “Ethiopische Fine Coffee”, geïnspireerd op de koffieboon zelf. Daarnaast zijn er individuele logo’s voor elk van de koffiesoorten. Licentiehouders moeten de nieuwe logo’s gebruiken in hun marketing.

“Ethiopia’s Trademarking and Licensing Initiative” werd in 2004 gelanceerd door een beheerdersgroep geleid door Getatchew Mengistie, directeur-generaal van de “Ethiopian Intellectual Property Office” en heeft spectaculaire vooruitgang gemaakt. De bekendmaking van het merk geeft een duidelijk zichtbare en tastbare dimensie aan het initiatief.

© AllAfrica, 08.05.08 (kdg)

In order to better identify a pattern of human rights violations, the regional states with the highest number of reported incidents – Oromia, Somali, SNNPR, Amhara, Gambella, and Addis Ababa/Dire Dawa – are organised along a time axis (see Figure below ). Such an overview illuminates several important inferences.

In every year during the time period from 1995 to 2005, the majority of the reported human rights violations in Ethiopia have occurred in the Oromia regional state. In all years but one, extra-judicial killings and arbitrary arrests have been reported. No other regional state has such a consistency of reported human rights violation during this time period. Th e majority of these reported incidents relate to contexts where Ethiopian security forces countered the quest for political recognition by the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF), the most prominent representative political organisation among the Oromos. In addition, violations against members and sympathisers of legally registered Oromo political parties (such as Oromo National Congress and Oromo Federal Democratic Movement) were reported during the electoral processes of 2000 and 2005.

Somali regional state shows a similar consistency in reported human rights violations during this period, although with fewer reported incidents each year; and with the exception that no violations were reported in Somali region in 2001 or 2005.

To read the whole paper, visit Ayyaantuu's blog.

This is how Habeshas reacted to it.

Keep making these haters cringe
Inject'em with more Oromo syringe
I bet they can't dance our dance because of antipathy
but they keep crying for a forced unity
Look at them turning green with envy
when our culture is appreciated with plenty
their guilty conscious making them bleed inside
they resort to insults to put us aside
as wise men said before and as seen in history
A prophet is not without honor, but in his own country
But our prophesy will come, Oromia shall be FREE!

Idag var det mulet och gråttt, men trots det så tog jag Bella och gick ut på en lång tur. Tog med spårlinan, eftersom jag tänkte gå ut till badelundaåsen, och där är det kanon att låta henne gå i linan, så får hon lite mer frihet samtidigt som jag har lite kontroll. Det finns ju både hästar, harar och andra hundar där, så jag tycker det är bäst att inte ha henne helt lös.

Vi gick runt hela åsen och passade på att titta på gokartbilarna som körde runt där på gokartbanan....Bella tyckte det var vådligt intressant....

På hemvägen gick vi över Tibble gård, och där vid åkern hittade Bella vad som troligen var ett par sorkhål. Dom var väääldigt intressanta, och hon körde ner hela nosen i hålet, och grävde som en galning... *fnissar*

Sen  stannade vi på fotbollsplanen vid Brandthovda IP, och jag tänkte träna lite inkallning bl a med henne. Gick bra ett par gånger, men sen tyckte Bella det var roligare att busa, så hon började hoppa som en tok, och sen fick hon ett typiskt Amstaffryck och for runt runt som en galning...*skrattar*...

Det såg för kul ut, så man kunde ju inte låta bli att skratta heller åt hennes tokerier....dryga 3 timmar var vi ute, sen knatade vi hem för att fixa middag....Lyckades i alla fall träna lite på "godishögen", och det gick riktigt bra :-)

Håller tummarna för fint väder i morron, då blir det än ännu längre tur.

[googlevideo=http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4164785083074933872]

[googlevideo=http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5284796186555216967]

 

We woke to no water in the hotel and a bright blue sky.  The legendary town of Harar was outside, waiting for us to explore its more than 350 walkways, paths, and alleys that sit inside the predominately Muslim-occupied walls.

Harar is two towns in one:  the renowned walled old city and the outlying mostly Christianized neighborhoods.  People travel to Harar to see old Harar with its centuries-old homes and shops, and its Hadari people dressed in colorful garb.  For Muslims and non-Muslims alike, Harar’s 87 mosques found inside the 4 mile circumference of the 40 feet high, 800 year-old stone walls are equally fascinating.

The water came on.  We showered.  Girma offered to be our guide for a fair price.  The watch showed 10:37 in the morning.

We entered the city through Shoa Gate, marked in Arabic script above its entrance.  Immediately we were in the midst of village life.  Women carrying wood on their heads.  Chickens scratching at the cobblestones.  Vegetables and fruit being sold by squatting women.  Old world lives, if I can call it that, existed in a modern context.  A few satellite dishes could be seen on rooftops. 

Walking on, we were satisfied in people-watching and snapping photographs.  Around every corner more pathways seemed to go out in every direction.  The walkways were never straight, always bending, twisting and meandering.  We never knew what was waiting around the next turn.    

                                             ****************

Girma shared historical facts along the way:

Harar’s gates were closed at night back in the day.  If you were not inside by the time the gates closed, you slept outside.

The gates and walls were built by Muslims to keep Christians and the local, native Oromo people out.  They were built for protection. 

The British explorer Robert Burton was the first European to visit the town.  The year was 1854.

The boy-wonder French poet Arthur Rimbaud came to Harar in 1880 and settled in and remained as a trader and photographer after abandoning poetry at age 19.

Ethiopia’s last Emperor, Haile Selassie, grew up in Harar.

Today, Muslims and Christians get along fine in Harar.  Some Christians do live inside the walls, and there is one church inside the walls.

                              ****************

“It looks like southern Spain ,” my wife said, referring to the whitewashed and pleasing pastel blues painted on the exterior walls of some homes along the pathways. 

“Kind of looks like pictures I’ve seen of Greece ,” I added.

“ Jerusalem too.  I imagine Jerusalem looks a little like this,” she responded.

Harar sits along an historical trade route that saw Egyptians, Middle Easterners, and Indians travel in from the Red Sea, the Gulf of Aden and the Indian Ocean .  Spices, teas, and grains were exchanged through bronze, coffee and yellow-brown hands.

The Muslim market was a flurry of activity in the late-morning hours.  Hawkers were selling their wares, all the while looking at us as we stopped to pose for a photograph by beautiful multi-colored baskets lying on the ground basking in the sun.  Hadari women balanced jugs of water on their heads, a feat I will never be able to do. 

Donkeys carrying wood for cooking trotted past, guided by girls and women on their way home or to the market to sell the wood.  Our project works to alleviate the unhealthful impacts of smoke in the home attributed to cooking.  The leading cause of death in children under the age of 5 in the developing world is complications resulting from poor indoor air quality.  How many children of Harar will die prematurely because of the wood being carried in rawhide satchels on the sides of the donkeys?

Some would call it “cultural,” this way of cooking.  Romanticizing a wood-fired cooking stove, the idea that stoking the fire to feed a family is ok for the world’s poor, is all too often offered by perpetrators of the “cultural” arguments.  That these “culturalists” can stand at the gas or electric stove in their homes preparing a meal and contend with the politically and academically-accepted “cultural” position, in some political and academic circles, angers me.

                                                   ******************

Our day ended with a meal atop a hotel that looks over the Christian market situated along the hard road outside of the Shoa Gate.  Most interesting were the chat sellers.  Chat is a bushy plant with leaves that are mildly intoxicating.  Chat-chewing is a part of life here not too unlike going out for beers with friends.  While it is mostly men that chew chat, women are known to chew as well.

A chat ceremony consists of friends sitting around on a blanket with bags of chat and sodas within arms reach.  You pull the leaves off the stems and stuff them into your cheek like tobacco.  The drinks are for putting flavor into your mouth.  The ceremony can last for hours.  Its effects are first noticed by people becoming talkative and animated, kind of like caffeine.  Life apparently becomes more easy-going and happiness falls upon you.

No, I didn’t chew any chat.  Not because I thought it was a drug.  It seemed to me that chat-chewing was an innocent activity no different than spending an afternoon at the coffee shop. 

For me, I didn’t like the idea of chewing on green leaves that maybe could have carried a microbe that would have had me bed-ridden for a day or two.  I didn’t want to take a chance at ruining a perfect day exploring one of the last great, and little traveled, destinations on earth. 

(written 23 October 2005)

My wife and I were in line for a complimentary sandwich and drink at Ethiopian Airlines’ café because our late afternoon flight to Dire Dawa was delayed 45 minutes.  Abdi was behind us in line.  He asked us where we were from.

“The U.S. ”

“Me too!!”

“Oh yeah…where from?”

“ Minneapolis .”

                                                     ******************************

Abdi left Ethiopia 24 years ago.  He hadn’t been back before this trip.  He spent his first 8 years living in Somalia before being sponsored by a Lutheran Social Services in Jacksonville, FL, where he lived for another 8 years.  He spent a few months in Denver after Florida , eventually settling in Minneapolis .

Why Minnesota ?  Abdi met his wife there.  She too is from the Harar area.  They are both of the Oromo people, and speak Oromo in their home in addition to English.  Their four children speak Oromo, and dance the traditional dances of their parents’ native land at weddings and other celebrations. 

Abdi explained that a large Ethiopian/Somali community thrives in Minneapolis . 

                                                                   ***********

I am not sharing Abdi with you only to show that the American Dream is alive and well.  I am sharing this story of Abdi with you because of what Abdi did for my wife and me.  From the moment he met us, he displayed nothing but kindness and genuine friendliness.  I wish I could say the same of my reactions to him.  I was a little suspicious of him.  Why was he so outgoing with us?  Why was he so interested in us?

Our flight soon boarded and we were on our way.  Passing by Abdi to take our seats, he told us he would negotiate a taxi to the bus station when we landed so that we wouldn’t get ripped off.  He was going to Harar as well.    

When the plane landed he took us under his wing the way a bigger brother would do for his younger siblings.  The taxis were waiting outside the little airport office.  He worked a price we could never get with our white skin in Africa .  Hey, the reality is that traveling white folks in Africa have more money than the locals.

The taxi carried us to the minibus.  We were quickly packed into the minibus, 20 people in a bus that should hold maybe 11 or 12 at most.  And the windows were jammed shut.  Abdi sat in the seat in front of us.  Dire Dawa to Harar is an hour’s ride, at least.  The entire way, Abdi asked if we were ok. 

“Are you comfortable?”  “How are you doing?”  “I told the guy we will pay when we get out.  Don’t worry about getting your money out right now.”

Hot, sweaty, and wanting nothing but to get out of that bus, we arrived in Harar in the dark, around 7:30 in the evening.

Harar is a mostly Muslim town.  It is Ramadan, a time of fasting.  No practicing follower of Islam eats between sunup and sundown.  When the sun is down, the people eat great meals.  The streets were filled with women selling fatiras—a fried dough pastry treat—and other food delights of Ramadan.  Crowds of people were on the streets, walking around town and visiting each other’s homes. 

We got out of the minibus and Abdi told us that he was going to walk us to our hotel.  Another man decided to walk with us because he knew exactly how to get to it.  In a short 5 minutes or so, we were at the hotel.  The other man wished us well.  Abdi stayed with us.

He met the hotel management, had them show us and him the room.  Upon entering the room, he checked the lock to make sure that it was secure, not damaged.  He made sure the price was fair.  When all was settled, he asked if we were satisfied.  We said yes.  We thanked him for accompanying us throughout our trip.  He said “you’re welcome.”   Humility.  As he walked out of the room he said, “Maybe we’ll meet again.  In Minnesota or Pennsylvania .”

                                                ***************

When you travel in lands where language and culture is not familiar, there are times when you find yourself putting complete trust in a stranger.  We are taught from a very young age to not talk to strangers.  While this is probably a good parenting strategy, it does make for not being suspicious of fellow human beings very difficult in later life.

Abdi made our travel from Addis to Harar much smoother than it would have been without him.  Sure, we would have managed, but it would have been more of a hassle, especially getting the taxi, bus and hotel room. 

I wonder if Abdi was our guardian angel.  At the same time, I do not like to think that he was something beyond our common existence.  Rather, I believe Abdi is what we humans can be.    

I hope that wherever his head lies down tonight, that it does so in peace. 

Let us offer a collective wish of peace for Abdi and his family as they live out their American Dream.

(16 October 2005)