Harar and a bad day

Harar is a Muslim oasis in an Orthodox Christian nation. It was the fortified city, situated on the flat coastal plain and completely surrounded by 10 ft high walls. Inside the walls the city is filled with seemingly endless narrow alleyways - there are a few roads on which cars can fit - otherwise it is walking or donkey only. It was used as a base for the trade that came from the interior and was sent on to the Arabian peninsula - principally slaves and ivory, and until as late as 1850 it was the major market in the Horn of Africa. Later the trade included chat or qat, the plant that is chewed by people across the Arab world for its narcotic effects. It is the fourth holiest city in Islam, as Muslims that were persecuted on the Arabian peninsula fled there, and until well in to the 18th century non-Muslims (Europeans) were not allowed within the city walls. By the late 1800's the city had been conquered by the Ethiopian (Christian) king and history quickly set about forgetting Harar. Trade dried up, the market shrank to almost nothing, its high white walls began falling apart, most of the gates are gone, and the city has expanded outside of the walls in to the surrounding hills. A few tourists visit now and then, the principal attraction are the hyena feeding men.

After being in Ethiopia for around ten days and thought I was starting to adjust to the strange and different place that it is.However on my second day in Harar it was too much. I couldn't take the fact that there is no public space in which as a farenji I could escape the glare of the Ethiopians - staring at me out of sheer curiosity, resentment or more commonly as a walking wallet. As I walk the street people constantly yell out "Farenji" or "You, you, you" - it is hard to work out what to say in reply to this. If I stop to look at something a crowd soon gathers, which usually makes matters worse as people egg each other on to see how close they can get to the farenji. The more daring or linguistically skilled go on to "Where are you from ? Where are you going?, whilst the seemingly endless packs of touts will go through the list of things they have to sell me, a city tour, some chat, a coffee ceremony, see the hyenas. I have lost count of the number of times I have had to tell them I have already done all of these. There are also beggars sprinkled across the city, usually occupying large chunks of the footpath, and when they see a farenji you can almost hear the cash register ching-chinging in there ears.
The city, like most in Ethiopia, is quite filthy - dirty, dirty streets covered in a thick dust, mixed with animal and human shit - both seem free to go wherever they like. There are plastic bags, discarded usually rotting food and anything that people don't want thrown and then blown everywhere. The air is filled with diesel fumes, most vehicles appear to wear thick black smoke coming out of the exhaust pipe as a badge of honour. Combined with the decrepit old town, and a sense of a grander past the whole place is suffocating.

Yesterday I reached boiling point - as I walked down the street I wanted to shout out loud - Leave me alone - I just want to walk around and be left alone. I suddenly felt very physically and emotionally tired - despite it being only 9 in the morning. I retreated to my room, and spent all day reading, sleeping and relaxing, with the door closed on the world. I did however venture out for the star attraction of Harar - the hyena feeding.

Men have been feeding hyenas just after dusk outside the gates of Harar for around five hundred years. Hyenas are rumoured to have mythical powers, and each year in September a porridge is prepared and set out for them - if they eat it the year will bring good things, if not locals start preparing for a bad year. More prosaically keeping the hyenas well fed and happy stops them from attacking livestock, or coming inside the city walls for snacks of the human variety.

I wandered down to one of the two remaining places, to watch the spectacle of a man pulling scraps of meat out of container and holding them on a stick as hyenas cautiously approached, and then lunged for the meat. A tour bus arrived and faced its high beams directly on the the seated hyena feeder - making the whole thing a little like a circus show (If you want you can feed the hyenas yourself, even holding the stick in your mouth) Hyenas are incredible animals - looking like a mix between a cat and dog, spotted like a giraffe, their mangy fur is pulled tightly over their bulk like a stuffed animal, and they have large, muscled forearms which are longer than the back legs giving them a strange, loping gait. In the darkness they softly howled, more like a screech than a bark, and then they would lope in to the light, after being called by the feeder using a low growl. (Supposedly the feeders know each hyena by name and can communicate with them)
After ten minutes I was a little over the bright lights and the spectacle of the group of young American tourists each having their turn to get photos of themselves, so I started heading back in to the city. This being Ethiopia though of course I couldn't be left alone, first I was threatened if I didn't pay some money to the touts surrounding the hyena man - supposedly for the meat, but considering the pack of tourists that argument didn't hold much water. Then once that argument was finished I was followed by a few of the touts wanting to sell me this and that. I scurried off back to my room as quickly as I could - the day ending much as it had begun.