Crosslinks -Of Lazarus and Drivers |
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Features by Bill & Sara Goodman (ex Crosslinks Ethiopia) - observations on life from Ethiopia
Of Lazarus and Drivers
"They've bought a car." Was that really what she said? The two women listened as she continued talking, and she said it again: "They've bought a car."
Previously Rahel had come regularly to this clinic (part of a social welfare agency run by local Christians). But this was the first time the workers there had seen her for quite a while. And they noticed a big change: she was so much thinner and weaker than before. What had happened? Gradually the story emerged. Rahel lived by begging, and would sit outside the house of some foreigners living in her part of the city. They used to give her food, sometimes a little money or old clothes, as they walked past her on the way to the local shops or the taxi stop. But now the foreigners had bought a car, and life had changed; they no longer walked regularly into the local community. They would drive in and out of their gate, and hardly notice Rahel any more as she sat beside the road.
Car culture is growing here, in spite of the awesome price of vehicles. Near our home part of the new city Ring Road has just been completed. It's good news for the few car owners, and reduces some of those asphyxiating traffic jams. Good news, too, for eccentric foreigners who like to cycle; after a few excruciating minutes on our local road, I find a stretch of smooth, empty tarmac - great for a bit of morning exercise.
But for the large majority, the man, woman, child and donkey in the street, the Ring Road seems to be less of a blessing. With its concrete central reservation and steel railings, this triumph of western-style urban discipline is a formidable barrier; it prevents people walking to school, to work, to the shops or to fetch water. Footbridges have been promised, and at last more are being built. Thankfully, human ingenuity is a fine thing; young people vault the barriers, others make little steps with rocks, and even older ladies manage to preserve some degree of dignity as they help each other scramble over the concrete wall.
In this ancient culture, the roads have always belonged to the people, and they still do. Even in the city, car drivers often have to weave a delicate slalom through shifting ranks of people and animals. If a car hits a pedestrian, the law is clear and simple: the driver is to blame, and must pay the medical bills. I think maybe I prefer it this way; it slows drivers down, and gives pedestrians some degree of confidence and authority. Cars have not yet been allowed to bully the people off the road, like they have done in UK. But as the roads are upgraded and the traffic moves faster, will this continue?
For our first five months here, we grappled with the demands of using public transport. It was sometimes fun, often hard work (especially with small children). Then we bought a car. Now we too can sweep out past the Lazarus sitting at our gate, partly insulated from the disturbing realities of the world we live in as we gaze out of our little tin box like viewers watching TV.
But Lazarus keeps reappearing. The traffic lights are working this week, so we stop at a red light in the city centre. A lad with a rueful smile and only one leg limps over and taps insistently on the car window; another land-mine victim, eking out a perilous living amidst the choking fumes and whirling wheels. I wind down the window, give him a few coins and try to chat in my limited Amharic, to show at least some kind of respect for him as a fellow human being. Somehow this guy sneaks through my emotional defences, stirring afresh inside me that bewildering and disabling cocktail of feelings: frustration, fear, compassion, guilt, anger...
At last the lights turn green.
(Bill and Sara Goodman Jan 2002)
The Goodmans were Crosslinks' Mission Partners working in Ethiopia