Travel in this city is not for the faint-hearted. The Lonely Planet guide describes Ethiopian transport as "butt-clenching". Driving is quite an experience as Chris has described in her latest post, but our trip in Elias's bajaj  caused no small amount of butt clenching, despite the journey being fairly short.

Elias is Lemma's son. He has a business providing transport in a bajaj. (Pronounce both "j"s as you would the "g" in "aubergine" and the "a"s as per the "ar" in "parcel" and you'll be saying it about right). In Asia it's a tuk-tuk. Lemma invited us to have a meal with his newly married daughter Hana and her new husband Gezahegn at their home, which is a short bajaj drive from Lemma's place. As we didn't know how to find Hana's place, Clare drove us to Lemma's and the plan was for Elias to show us where Hana lived. As we drove there I asked Clare how we were going to get from Lemma's the Hana's. "I think Elias is taking us in his bajaj" she replied, with a sidelong glance that was slightly concerning. As we were three adults and two children (I'll tell you about Haile and Abdi in a later post) I thought this unlikely. I should have known better - this is Africa after all.

The journey to Lemma's house/school is always entertaining and this evening was no exception with a number of cows intervening at various points, adding to the usual array of pot-holes, people and rocks. It's mostly tarmac, but eventually we bump our way down a wide cobbled street that always seems to have a number of huge container lorries parked rather incongruously down one side. A 4 wheel drive vehicle is very useful for the final 50 yards or so, past a huge old tree partially obstructing a wide track that wouldn't be out of place off road in the Lake District. My confidence that we wouldn't be able to travel in a bajaj is somewhat inappropriately increasing.

Through the gates, past the guards, park in the pitch dark in the grounds of Lemma's home/school and there's a smiling welcoming Elias - with his bajaj. I do wish the English could learn how to greet people properly. Elias greeted us with handshakes, hugs, kisses, beaming smiles and lots of words in Amharic I am beginning to understand. (I have been taught how to say "hello" and "goodbye" - 24 different sentences depending on the time of day and  the gender, plurality and age of the person you are greeting). Anyway, he opens the back door of his bajaj and in we pile. All five of us. The next 10 minutes are hard to describe. Elias's skillful bajaj driving takes us up and down steep rough tracks, round piles of rocks, potholes you could hide a small town in, and of course the old tree. At one point I am sure we are going to tip over but no, Elias keeps us upright. Haile (aged 9)  who was sitting on my lap thought it was great fun - bouncing him up and down a bit with my knees added to his enjoyment and distracted me slightly from the all pervading sense of imminent disaster I was struggling to shake off. I needn't have worried - we arrived safely at Hana and Gezahegn's home and were welcomed with enormous enthusiasm and warmth that is quite humbling. There were several friends there as well, including the pastor of their church who had spoken so entertainingly at their wedding ceremony.  Hana had gone to a great deal of trouble to cook us "Ferenji food" as she described it - pasta, rice and meat all pleasantly spiced and very tasty. She then made us Ethiopian coffee in the traditional "coffee ceremony" way, beginning with green coffee beans and ending up with some lovely and unique-tasting coffee. Hana and Gezahegn both speak some English, and I said to Gezahegn as I was getting more food that his lovely new wife is an excellent cook.. "Yes" he agreed, beaming; "She is a great blessing from God". I love this country!

Throughout the wedding and subsequent ceremonies that we were privileged to be invited to, every move the happy couple made and every word they said was carefully videoed as well as photographed. The photo album we could browse this evening demonstrated the photographer's skill and aptitude with Photoshop, and the DVD of the video began with some quite startling images that had been filmed prior to the wedding. These  involved the two of them smiling, singing and playing the guitar in fields, hay-stacks, rose-petal covered furnishings and most surprising of all paddling in a shallow river out in the country dressed in full wedding regalia. The video also included a white horse. Sadly the DVD player was faulty and we only saw the first 20 minutes or so.

A lovely evening was brought to a close by Elias declaring it was time to go. So back into the bajaj we squeezed, this time more confident that we would survive, and the evening ended as entertainingly as it had started. And we missed the tree.

I may be giving you the impression that life here is all fun and entertainment. Let me tell you something that isn't. Lemma has a new job - he is temporarily the head guard at Bingham. This is because Mamushet, the head guard who has been here for many years (we had met him previously in 2007) - a man in his early 50s supporting a wife and family suddenly died after collapsing a couple of times. Bingham has been rather a sad place since. Although we will never know what he died of (no post mortems and a funeral within a day or so) I have a lurking suspicion that had he had immediate access to proper modern medical care he would probably have survived. But that's life here - there's a tragedy on every corner and there's suffering and poverty the likes of which you cannot grasp until you've been here and seen it.