On the Djibouti Road

During my stay in Ethiopia, I got to venture out of Addis Ababa for one day to visit Adama. Addis is the capital and largest city in Ethiopia (population ~5 million), and is sometimes referred to as the “the political capital of Africa”, as the African Union is headquartered there and the city holds cultural and historical significance for the continent. It was welcome break from the smog, the traffic, and the hustle for one day. But most importantly, it was a relief to get away from all the bustle, which had grown particularly tiresome.

Some mountains and rural countryside in the Great Rift Valley.

Adama is the third largest city in Ethiopia, about 90km to the southeast of Addis. My driver was a true professional who used to work for the extravagant Sheraton Hotel, preferred accommodations for international dignitaries and NGOs in Ethiopia. Now he drives international travelers strictly on a referral basis, and he once drove President Clinton on one of his visits to Addis with the Clinton Foundation. The drive to Adama is two hours each way. During the four hours on the road I had the chance to learn a lot about Ethiopia from the driver, who showed immense patience with my thorough lines of interrogation.

An Ethiopian Orthodox church in Adama.

The Djibouti Road took us through the Rift Valley to Adama through some rural countryside. The road is so-called because it connects Addis to the port city of Djibouti, Djibouti, roughly nine hours away. Ethiopia is landlocked, with three bordering coastal countries to the east: Eritrea, Djibouti, and Somalia. Relations with Eritrea and Somalia are strained, and in the case of Eritrea’s, there has been border disputes going on with Ethiopia since Eritrea split away from Ethiopia in the early 90s. Consequently, all of the international goods imported into Addis come in via the port of Djibouti and the Djibouti Road. The road will accommodate roughly three or four lanes of travel in most places, but there is no barrier separating the directions of travel, and in most places no lines either. Passing sometimes resembles a game of chicken, and there are many auto accidents on the road, especially at night.


This is some video I shot while we traveled down the Djibouti Road. It gives a pretty good idea of the typical road width and passing conditions.

Contributing to the danger on the Djibouti is the pressure many drivers are under. Nearly all of the trucks used for transporting produce are not refrigerated, so if perishable goods have to make a lengthy trip in a hot car, it behooves the driver to deliver the cargo to a refrigerator in Addis in a timely manner. Many of the drivers who are transporting the perishables drive a particular model of Isuzu pickup truck, so my driver let me know he has to be on guard for aggressive or “greedy” driving from these cars.


Not all of the produce in question is fruits and vegetables. One of Ethiopia’s major exports is khat, a leafy shrub. When chewed, it acts as a stimulant with mild narcotic properties. It is legal to grow and use in Ethiopia, though it’s not legal in the US, Canada, and some other countries. It’s popular to use in numerous countries, including Ethiopia, Somalia, Yemen, and the UK, where some legislators have been working to ban the drug. Growing and selling khat as a cash crop has certainly helped Ethiopia’s economy in some ways, though it has some drawbacks, including additional danger on the Djibouti Road. Drivers will often move the crop at night, as it is perishable and the roads are less crowded at night. Sometimes they chew the khat to keep them awake at night, and the khat can keep them awake on the road for up to four or five days straight to move more cargo. The problems can arise when drivers without proper rest eventually fall asleep at the wheel, leading to dangerous accidents that can claim lives and slow down trade on the Djibouti Road, the artery of Addis Ababa.

What is the male equivalent of a ladyfriend?

I recently took a flight from Cairo to New York. Now, on solo domestic flights I generally make a point of avoiding conversation with my seatmates. Experience has shown that there is at least a 70% chance that the person is from a Great Lakes state and that they are visiting their (great aunt / second cousin / parakeet phone pal) on account of the recent (birth of their third child / refinancing of their home / loss of their tooth). Not only that, but by replying, “Fine, thank you” to their “Hi, how are you?”, you may have unwittingly invited a lengthy recounting of their thoroughly unremarkable family history. Best to have a book handy. When the hilarious exploits of your seatmate’s house pet become tedious, the conversation can usually be ended with a brief sideways glare and something to the effect of, “What was that? I’m sorry, I was having trouble hearing you over this fascinating book I’m reading.”

On this particular day, I suppose I was feeling generous and friendly, because I did indeed enter a dialogue with my seatmate. After all, I figured the risk was reduced, as most people can’t afford the upkeep of international parakeet phone pals (to say nothing of the language barrier). My seatmate was a pleasant American woman, probably in her 50s, and incidentally from the Seattle area, so we had something in common. Given the circumstances, there were the natural questions about what had brought the other to Cairo. I told her I was sightseeing on the way home from a business trip, and she told me that she had been traveling with her . . . partner, the final word said not with a literal wink and nod, but with an intonation that implied it. Not being familiar with the established insinuations of her generation, I was at a loss. What could be the meaning behind this bizarre emphasis of a perfectly ambiguous word? Was she referring to a business partner, or was this more like a “pardner”: an ally in times of cattle-wranglin’, whiskey-swillin’, and six-shooter-shootin’? Was she trying to tell me that she was gay? The word choice had left me confounded.

Fortunately, I had the good sense to keep my confusion to myself. I was able to deduce from the continuation of the conversation that this particular usage of the word could be defined something like this: partner, n. [pahrt-ner]: A gentleman bachelor, close in age to the woman, with whom she is romantically involved.

Here, dear reader, is where I beseech you for your advice and assistance. We must find a word with a more specific definition to be used by ladies in the situation of my seatmate. This word must grant her the ability to better communicate the nature of her human relationships to louts such as myself.

I’ve put some thought into this, and have yet to come up with a satisfying solution. For more mature persons, it’s understandable why the terms boyfriend and girlfriend might not be preferred. Fortunately for the seasoned and sophisticated man, there is always the option of referring to his female counterpart as a ladyfriend. After all, a girlfriend may be cute and flirtatious, but a ladyfriend is experienced and knows what she wants. Rawr.

But what is the male equivalent of a ladyfriend? The obvious response would be a gentlemanfriend, but that doesn’t roll of the tongue. Also, the term manfriend is right out, for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on. Guyfriend, maybe? That’s still sort of boyish, but maybe could work. I dunno, I’ve got nothing else. So I’ll put it to you, standardized test analogy style:

Girlfriend : Boyfriend :: Ladyfriend : ???

(This should go without saying, but I better not hear a suggestion of “lover” or any phrase with “lover” as part of it. That term just makes me cringe, and it’s a word you just don’t want to hear come out of anyone, unless it’s Will Ferrell in an SNL skit.)