You gotta love a place where the alphabet, calendar, and cuisine are all unique. These Ethiopians are different, and they’re proud of it. They may not say that they’re the best (in the main language, Amharic, it’s hard to form a superlative). But stay a few days and the confidence shines through.
It doesn’t take long before somebody mentions that Ethiopia is the birthplace of the species, or the capital of Africa, or the only country on the continent never to be colonized. Any of these claims can be disputed, but the truth doesn’t matter as much as the self-belief. This is a place with big plans: “middle-income country by 2020”; “Internet subscribers quadrupled every year”; “HIV incidence cut in half by 2015.”
This last statistic explains why my colleague and I were there on a work trip. I was enthralled enough that I’m sure I’ll be back as a tourist some day. The place may look very different by the time I get there again. We were told that government planners are taking the South Korean economic miracle as their development plan. Landlocked and without any oil, Ethiopia still managed over 7% growth in its economy in 2011, much of that thanks to livestock and coffee exports. Neighboring Kenya currently exports three times as much with just half the population. So if Ethiopians really get their plan implemented, then watch out.
Whether or not the country improves its GDP, it already contains lots to like. I enjoyed the gracious, welcoming people. They appear to get along well with each other despite the jumble of languages (more than 80!), ethnic groups (ask people here where they’re from, they tell you their tribe first), and religions (majority Christian, one third Muslim, a handful of Rastafarians).
Their time-telling system seemed quirky at first, but after somebody explained that they begin counting at around sunrise, it made more sense than what I’ve been using all these years. Our 9:00 morning meeting, for example, took place at 3:00 Ethiopian time. All of the months have 30 days, leaving an extra five or six days at the end of the year to be bundled together as the 13th month. Somehow over the years this calendar has gotten out of sync with other Christian ones— in Ethiopia, this year is 2004. People joke that they feel younger as soon as they get off the plane.
The food, dominated by a tasty sourdough pancake called injera, matches any fare anywhere. I’m convinced it’s the secret behind the success of the country’s famous marathon runners. We downed it with an equally distinctive and flavorful honey wine known as tej, and finished meals with the traditional course of coffee and popcorn.We had some free time for sightseeing over a weekend. The flight we thought we had booked to an upcountry tourist town turned out not to be real. Instead we wandered around some dirt-poor streets in the capital. As in many developing places, plenty of people wouldn’t leave us alone until we paid them. We wondered why we see so many dogs in Thailand but so few in Ethiopia. Signs everywhere suggested that outside support from Cuba is being replaced by investment from China.
It didn’t take long to figure out that coffee is central to
relationships in Ethiopia. Following our nose, we made our way to a shop
we’d been told has been the best in town for more than fifty years.
Tomoca Coffee’s lone room didn’t look anything like a Starbuck’s. We had
to ask how things work there.
A handsome, friendly student explained
that customers order at one counter, pay at another, pick up at a third,
and then stand at one of the high narrow tables, waiting for somebody
to come through with shakers of sugar or salt. The little cups of strong
coffee last as long as you have. An hour after we arrived, my colleague
was still talking to the student. Something tells me that whenever I
return to Ethiopia, not much else will look familiar, but Tomoca will be
unchanged. 
