Infrastructure part 3, transportation

One striking thing about the visual landscape of Addis Ababa is the sheer mass of people seemingly constantly on the move. One example is the daily tide of white-shrouded worshippers ebbing and flowing, especially in the early morning hours, around the churches. While these crowds move with a peaceful rhythm, it's a different story with the less settled, more frenetic movement of the throngs of people trying to navigate daily travel from point A to point B in this city. Vehicle traffic, as I've described before, chokes many of the keys roads and intersections, and the crowds of people waiting for transportation seem constant. There is also a steady stream of people providing their own transportation by walking. These pedestrians, who decidedly do not have the right of way, must dodge one another, be always on the watch for broken pavement and other obstacles (street vendors, beggars, animals, animal waste, etc.), avoid (during this wet season) the patches of mud and standing water, and weave their way through the cars, trucks, and buses to cross any streets.

Like so many services and resources here, transportation options are largely dictated by how much money a person has. Even though Ethiopia has a relatively less unequal division of wealth (as measured by the Gini coefficient, an inequality index that ranks Ethiopia least unequal on the African continent), even small differences affect what is affordable. There is, then, a transportation hierarchy - as there is for schools, restaurants, medical clinics, grocery stores and other shops. For those not walking (the least expensive option, not considering time, health, or safety), the options are like a ladder, becoming more expensive but also more convenient and more comfortable with each ascending rung.


At the top of this ladder, as with everything here, are the VIPs – government officials, foreign dignitaries, NGO officers, and the wealthy. They drive around in big cars (think Land Cruisers), often with hired drivers, and seem to have (or just claim) road priority and right of way.
The government taxes car sales at nearly 100%, in part to raise needed revenue and in part to mitigate traffic. That latter goal is not working; even though Ethiopia has an estimated mere 3 motor vehicles per 1,000 people nation wide (compared to 809 in the US), they seem to nearly all be in Addis!
Many of the cars on the roads, especially the taxis, are 15-30 year-old Toyotas and Ladas (a Russian model), and even these can cost as much as four times what they would in the US, putting them out of reach for most Ethiopians. Also, gas here costs about the same here as it does in the US.  
Foreigner visitors like us, with some means, occupy the next rung down on the transportation ladder. We can afford to be driven around in contract (or private) taxis. We get taken directly to our desired destination, and we don't have to share our ride. We still jostle through traffic with the rest of
the driving public, and we compete for lane space with trucks, buses, and a huge fleet of min-van taxis.
 

 

These mini-van taxis, the next rung down on the ladder, are ubiquitous and operate along a surprisingly organized and efficient (when you can get on one!) network of routes. They cost about a 10th of what we pay for a private taxi (or less, depending on how far one travels and how many transfers one makes), and they seem in constant demand.

The big city buses, on the other hand, are even cheaper; one ride cost me 2 birr (about 11 cents). Again, the lines for these buses are quite long during peak hours, and they are usually jam packed with riders. As far as I can tell, they are the bottom rung (besides walking): crowded, hot, uncomfortable, and rumored to be unsafe.      

Out here in our neighborhood, two other transportation alternatives. Bajajs and horse carts. The former are quick, affordable 3-wheeled motorized carts that buzz up and down short routes along the arterials. The latter seem an anachronism, but they both reflect the area's recent rural past and offer a very practical and necessary way of moving people and material into the undeveloped fringes of the city.