My Ethiopian driver, half savant, half renaissance man.

Issac - Driver - half savant, half renaissance man.

My humble, Wise Ethiopian Driver

Aid missions or development projects anywhere in the world have one thing in common—you “gotta” get there. And typically, they are located at the end of some hellish road with pot holes the size of baby elephants. There is only one person who’s up for the job—your full-time driver.

When I first started this business, it seemed a bit extravagant to have a “chauffeur.” But a good driver is worth his weight in gold. Not only does he know every pot hole, safe shortcut and Coke watering hole, but he ensures the security of the vehicle as well as its contents, and he navigates police checkpoints with the appropriate humble tones to respected authorities as though negotiating with St. Peter to enter the pearly gates.

If you’re lucky, like I’ve been on this trip, you end up with Isaac, a man who has a memory like a steel trap for numbers, political dates and bird types, and who seems to know everything about any major corporation investing in Ethiopia. He can tell you the megawatts of each generator placed on the Nile and how many more are being built. Ask him the altitude, he knows. He’s half savant, half Renaissance man. During the Ethiopian Orthodox festive days he will sit with you, but will not eat as he observes a time of fasting. He finds the time to take both piano and guitar lessons and, while at home, he’s working on his music CD, which he tells me, will be out soon. He does it all with warmth, humbleness, and genuine charm. As one Ethiopian colleague confided, Isaac makes you lazy. You just ask him for a fact on anything, and he knows. He’s a human computer.

Given the inevitable paper flow in some countries, drivers are trusted to go to government buildings, banks and local utilities, to work out payment of bills and other laborious tasks that require patience and a little schmooze factor. Drivers are your “fixer.” They know everybody and greet them all like long-lost fishing buddies.

The Number 1 killer for aid workers is road accidents. If most of your time is spent on roads that receive zero maintenance, you want a professional like Isaac. Poor maintenance of vehicles, overloading of trucks, and buses with axels so out of line that they look like they are traveling sideways — tracking, they call it — are a common occurrence here. You need a driver to be aware of it all, to keep you safe.

Issac negotiating our way to a village

Late one afternoon, while searching for a family, we crept our way through cactus groves, weaving up and around dry hills like a lion searching for its next meal. At one point, Isaac stopped the truck on a 30-degree incline. He jumped out, looked at the foot-wide crevasse that wove its way up the hill and, like an artist evaluating a chunk of clay ready to be sculpted, he evaluated what lay before him. After some consideration, he jumped back in the vehicle, started whistling, and then moved forward with the speed of a centipede. I honestly thought we wouldn’t make it across. A cowboy knows his horse and a driver knows his vehicle.

Thank you, Isaac, for the safe travels and the philosophical conversations about life and all things Ethiopian.