Jimma: Part 3 – the bus journey back!

I'd like to say the bus journey back was better – we knew what to
expect, we could prepare better. But no, it was much worse! We had
to be at the bus station by 4.30am. 4.30AM!!! As it was, I was awake
at 4 as my stomach was hurting and I felt sick – this did not bode
well for the journey ahead.

The Jimma bus station was not quite as busy as the one in Addis, and
we got better seats (possibly because we got there earlier) with
Anthony, Danyele and I able to sit together. The bus ceremony
continued for a good hour, while Danyele slept and Anthony and I
groaned at intervals 'come ON!', but eventually the bus pulled away.

The ride was okay – not too bumpy and we stopped a few times, just to
give some men the chance to pee in a bush and for the driver to have a
quick smoke. Danyele slept heavily, while Anthony read his book and I
leant forward onto the seat in front of me and tried to stop the
contents of my stomach exiting through my mouth. There was a lot of
yogic breathing going on!

About two hours into the journey, when the cold sweat was starting to
pour off of me, Hanna gave me a lemon to smell, to stop any feelings
of nausea. Well. One sniff of that, and I was throwing up
everywhere. Luckily I threw up into a ziplock, airtight bag in which
I'd packed our toiletries. But it had a hole!! It's supposed to be
airtight, and it had a bloody hole!!! So poor Anthony's bag got … er
…dripped on (sorry).

The rest of the journey passed fairly uneventfully, punctuated by
small vomiting sounds, and the rhythm of yogic breathing. Danyele
woke up, Anthony continued his book, and a few other women joined in
the being sick competition, except they managed to stand up and throw
up out of the window!

We stopped at the same small town for some fresh air and refreshment,
and we pleaded with the pub landlord to let us use his toilets again
(the ones at the bus station made Danyele retch as she approached them
… not a good start!). This time they weren't as clean, but there were
no goats trying to come in with us, so that was a bonus.

From this town, it is a 2 hour journey to Addis so I was really happy
we'd be home soon. Except I didn't know about the searches. Busses
that are coming back to Addis from the countryside are subject to
searches by policemen – Hanna says they are looking for big quantities
of coffee or khat which we are planning to sell in Addis without
paying taxes. Three times we had to pull over and half of the
passengers got off (I'm not sure why only half) while a policeman (or
someone) came on and had a look round. As Anthony pointed out, if
we'd wanted to smuggle something, we'd just have to NOT leave it on
the seat with a big label saying 'Smuggled Stuff'. Easy!

The last search was the big one, as Hanna warned us. We all had to
get off of the bus this time and they started going through bags etc.
After about 15 minutes some people got back on the bus, and we
followed. The policemen on the bus angrily waved the men back off the
bus, but allowed the women in to sit down and of course us (sometimes
there are advantages to being faranji!). They appeared to be giving a
Rastafarian guy quite a hard time about the khat he had, but
eventually they were satisfied and we were able to go on our way.

Because of all the stopping and searching, the two hour journey took
nearer three, and I have never been so glad to see a bus station!!
D was there to pick us up and take us back to the hotel, where we
spent a good 3 hours recovering before venturing out to dinner.

I did tell Danyele and Anthony I'd show them the 'real' Ethiopia!