I had a slightly disturbing insight into life here earlier.
Halfway through the ten hour journey to Dire Dawa along mountain passes,
surprisingly sensibly tackled-far more so than in Georgia last year but anyway...
We stopped for a rest (Ha!) break in a small town for 30 minutes.
The kids did their usual mobbing the Ferrangi!
(Youre Ferrangi! Im Oromo! Give me hat!)
One flyblown kid in particular latched onto me and practiced his entire repertoire:
Give me money!
Give me pen!
Give me food!
Clearly a new tactic was called for. He swivelled on the spot - quite well coordinated for someone
that malnourished- and presented me with his arse.
Returning back to normal posture he made the money gesture and looked hopeful.
Slightly stunned, I looked for help from a passing adult, any passing adult.
A passing adult grinned and chuckled approvingly.
Does Ethiopia have social services??