I want to be Habasha

If you ever come to visit Ethiopia, one thing you will very quickly learn is the word “farengie” (pronounced fuh-ren-jee). It simply means “foreigner.” Walking along the street, in taxis, in stores, wherever you go in Ethiopia, “farengie” will be yelled at anyone with a light skin color, in our case, that’s us! At times, it’s funny and I like to yell the corresponding word back at them, “Habasha!” which means “native or local (person).” Other times, it isn’t so funny, but still, it can’t be taken as personally offensive (although it isn’t meant to be a compliment). Over time, it can, and does get to us. On more than one occasion, I’ve thought to myself, “I want to be habasha” so that I can fit in here. The sad reality is that no matter how long we live here, no matter how well we know the language, no matter how much we adapt, we will always be farengies.

This is a hard reality for us as we face living in Ethiopia for years to come. The societal line between Habesha and Farengie is not at all perforated, meaning that we will never truly belong in the society around us. One way in which this is most clearly seen is in prices. Since farengie’s are all assumed to be wealthy, prices for us are unashamedly higher. We saw this very clearly on the days that a habasha friend joined us for part of our trip. At Lalibela’s stone hewn churches, habashas got in for free whereas farengies paid a very steep 300 birr. At the Gondar castle ruins, our habasha friend was charged 5 birr for entrance whereas we paid 50 birr a piece. Granted, that’s the tourism industry, which makes sense to me. If they charged the same for everyone, either the habashas could not afford to see their own historical sites, or the site would not be able to make any money (it’s not like tourists are pouring into Ethiopia each year and 5 birr is less than 50 US cents). But even outside of the direct tourism world, the hotel business overtly charges what we have sarcastically called “skin tax” (you pay more because you are white). At one hotel our friend paid 45 birr whereas the same room cost us 90 birr. The same story at another hotel, off the tourist routes: 40 birr for habesha, 80 for farengie. Now, don’t get me wrong, the 80 birr farengie rate is about $7.50, which is still dirt cheap compared to even the cheapest American hotels. Even the TOP NOTCH government-run hotels in the biggest tourist spots will not charge more than $50-$60 US dollars for a night’s stay. So, I’m not complaining about the prices being too high. Rather, it’s the psychological “we are not one of them, nor will we ever be,” that has gotten to us at times.

One thing I am seeing first hand is something that I knew all along. Although I can never truly become habasha, language is the key to coming as close as possible. When we were walking around these touristy spots in northern Ethiopia, the people on the street were very quick to greet us in English, as they would with any normal tourist. However, probably most motivated by our pride in not being tourists, I and my traveling companions were quick to respond to them in Amharic. Why? It was because we didn’t want to be perceived as a tourist, or a total outsider to this culture. Using the heart language that is unique to Ethiopia is the best way to say “hey, I may have white skin and too much money in my pocket, but I’m a HUGE step closer to you than you may have perceived.” So, although our skin color will still raise prices and set us apart in the eyes of the local people, our use of Amharic (and later Gmz) will enable us to wiggle our way into the society and into the hearts of those with whom we work. That’s the beauty and power of heart language.