Today we spent more time on the Bahir Dar University campus talking to administrators and faculty about the Ethiopia’s universities, peeling back the layers of what we are realizing is more complex educational system than it appears. We also talked to a few students -- accounting and computer science majors -- but we had a harder time understanding each other's use of English than we had in our conversations with the older adults. One student told classmate Josh Silvey and me that we talked with too strange an accent, so we parted ways with smiles.
Afterwards, our friend Dr. Zewdu Emiru took classmate Nicole Fynn and me on a tour of the city’s main market, which was far more grand than the street vendors we had thought made up “the market.” It was a sensory overload – from stacks of fruits and vegetables and sacks of spices, to dead chickens, to a million shoes imported from China. His expertise was critical in finding the right vendor for what we wanted and at the right price, lower than what a vendor might typically try to charge Caucasian forenji.
Nicole and I were looking for teff, the African grain used in the traditional sourdough bread called injera. I bought some bananas, which have more flavor than any banana I’ve tasted before, while Nicole looked for sandals. After a half hour of searching for what she hoped would be the perfect pair, Zewdu said there is an Amharic saying that too many choices equal no choice.
Over cups of macchioto coffee, the three of us talked more about the opportunities and challenges facing Ethiopian higher education. Tomorrow I return to campus, this time to meet with the vice president of strategic communications and try again to talk to students about their perspective on the university experience. The counseling graduate students on the trip, meanwhile, will lead a staff workshop at the non-profit Health and Wholeness Ethiopia at the executive director's request.
Afterwards, our friend Dr. Zewdu Emiru took classmate Nicole Fynn and me on a tour of the city’s main market, which was far more grand than the street vendors we had thought made up “the market.” It was a sensory overload – from stacks of fruits and vegetables and sacks of spices, to dead chickens, to a million shoes imported from China. His expertise was critical in finding the right vendor for what we wanted and at the right price, lower than what a vendor might typically try to charge Caucasian forenji.
Nicole and I were looking for teff, the African grain used in the traditional sourdough bread called injera. I bought some bananas, which have more flavor than any banana I’ve tasted before, while Nicole looked for sandals. After a half hour of searching for what she hoped would be the perfect pair, Zewdu said there is an Amharic saying that too many choices equal no choice.
Over cups of macchioto coffee, the three of us talked more about the opportunities and challenges facing Ethiopian higher education. Tomorrow I return to campus, this time to meet with the vice president of strategic communications and try again to talk to students about their perspective on the university experience. The counseling graduate students on the trip, meanwhile, will lead a staff workshop at the non-profit Health and Wholeness Ethiopia at the executive director's request.
Appalachian doctoral student Nicole Fynn and Dr. Zewdu Emiru take in the many sacks of lentils, spices and pasta at Bahir Dar's main market.
A late-afternoon scene at Bahir Dar's market.
A vendor measures a kilo of the African grain called teff that I purchased at the main market.