Harassed in Harar

They say, "You never get a second chance to make a first impression". But i do my best to give a place the benefit of the doubt. If a first inkling of a place leaves something to be desired, there is something to be said about allowing a place another opportunity to 'wow'. But what if they screw up chance #2. And then chance #3, #4, #5 to #infinity are squandered, perhaps it's time to give up. Such was the case on my visit to Harar in eastern Ethiopia. From the second i arrived to the moment i left, it was nothing but hassle.It all looked good on paper. Harar is a UNESCO listed old city, walled in between the 13th and 16th centuries by the Muslim population to protect (the self proclaimed) 4th holiest city in Islam (actually only holy to Sufis). With over 80 mosques, the city is said to have a uniquely Muslim feel. Although Ethiopia is 65% Christian (various denominations) and 33% Muslim, you never really get a feel for the separation. Added to this, the city is famous for its hyena men (who are not hyena/man hybrids, but men who feed the hyenas). To top it off, although well known in tourist circles, is only a third tier destination after the tribal south and historical north. This means you get an historical city with a unique religious feel with hardly any tourists but plenty of hyena. Sounded right up my alley. That was until i got out of the public mini-bus.

The second i stepped out of the mini-bus, one guy wanted a tip for opening the door (note he only asked me, not the local passengers). Then another guy wanted a tip for getting my bag off the roof. Another guy wanted a tip for catching the bag from the guy on the roof and handing it to me. Then another guy wanted a tip to show me to a hotel when i already knew where it was. Then another guy wanted.... Ahhhhhhh!!! I fought them off and headed to the hotel. After checking out the simple, but cheap (with no water), room i headed back down to reception to pay. In the 2 minutes it took me to look at the room, there was already another "tour guide" willing to offer me his services to walk around the city or show me the hyenas. "Only 200 Birr"! Are you freaking kidding me? That means you earn more than i do!!! I decline as politely as i can while on my last nerve, and head off to explore the old city.

Once actually in the old town, it's kind of nice. The mostly pedestrian alleyways bend and hook in seemingly random directions. It's almost guaranteed that you'll get lost. But it's a walled city, how lost can you get? Kids greet you with "Hellos" but then it's quickly followed by "Money?". I had thought that the concept of responsible tourism had finally sunk in. But there still seem to be morons out there promoting the practice of idiocracy by showering children with pocket money. It does nothing more than encourage a culture of begging and create a reason for truancy for school. There were even pebbles thrown at me when i refused to pay (luckily their aim sucks). Then, once you emerge into a main square, the "tour guides" smell the blood of an unaccompanied foreigner, and circle the wagons. "Hyenas..." "Rimbaud's House..." Perhaps if i had just hired someone for the get-go, i could have avoided the endless hassle.

The one saving grace of the place are the magnificently beautiful women. The promised differences between Muslims and Christians was not immediately apparent as nobody opted for the "I am (insert religion here)" forehead tattoos. But it didn't matter. The wonderfully colourful clothes seemed to sparkle as the women went about the market, bargaining and haggling for dinner supplies. While they are VERY anti-camera, i was lucky my hotel had a balcony overlooking the Christian Market.

Harar was my first Ethiopian town outside Addis. And although i had planned to spend a couple days there, i was left with such an immediate negative impression, that i was ready to leave the next morning for the peace and serenity of Somaliland. Luckily, the rest of Ethiopia was not at all like this. All the beauty and mystery of Harar was lost in the uncomfortable feel of the place. Harar was, without question, my least favourite place in the Ethiopia by a long shot.