Ermias on America

On the drive down from Yerer Mountain, I asked Ermias, our 27-year-old Ethiopian driver, his impression of America.

“I think Americans are very rich. They have lots of money. When my friends found out I will be driving for some Americans, they told me, ‘Oh how lucky you are. You will also be rich.’”

I suddenly realized that Ryan and I were missionaries from America with the ability to baptize others in a Ponce de Leon-like water of wealth.

“How can I go to America?” Ermias asked while constantly wrenching the steering wheel to carve a thread-sized opening between the masses of people flooding both sides of the road.

“What about the American Embassy?” I suggested. We had just passed the double layers of 3-meter high concrete barriers hiding the Embassy. The concrete was painted with colorful murals.

Ermias spat a laugh. “There is so much corruption there right now.”

Ouch.

At breakfast this morning, Ryan’s comments: “Capitalism sucks.”

Ermias: “So where is this country you came from before America? What was it?”

“Latvia.” Thoughtful pause. “We arrived in America with just our clothes and 5 boxes holding mostly blankets.”

“So if I went to America, is it possible to be rich?” Ermias jerked the wheel to avoid an elbow hanging out the window of a “blue donkey” taxi van.

One kilometer later: “And what about blacks in America?”