At the central courtyard of the immigration office on Churchill Road, a group of Chinese labourers in khaki, tunic suits that appear a bit too large on them, and tacking oversized flip-flops of considerable age, lounge about the premises chattering feverishly. It is a languid and agonising wait for everyone, but they seem to be peculiarly restive and out of place as if they have just been disgorged from the brig of an ocean liner.

One squats at the edge of a sunny, small retaining wall holding the back of his head with both hands and seems to find a momentary solace where he can avoid the incessant babble of his companions. Another has the same idea but chooses to stand at a shady spot against a door where he ignores the quick inquisitive glances of those that pass by him.

The others follow a sturdy man who seems to be in charge. He holds an assortment of files and passports under his arms and scurries around, tailed fervently by his compatriots.  They appear like dunlins that sprint over a marshy field - now veering in one direction together, now flashing their shiny under-parts in unison and now rearranging themselves into a giant fan that sweeps across the sky.

In a different part of town, another Chinese contingent is gathered for a luncheon in the private dining room of Tayetu Hotel, but it is a different crowd than the motley pack at the immigration office. Here the leader is surrounded by smartly dressed businessmen and women who dote with ardent attention upon him. The chief is a tall slender man dressed in a classic suit style - one that seems obtained from a top-end tailor in Hong Kong.

The dark blue suit he wears is hand-sewn, constructed from Loro Piana wool or something similar, and features handpicked stitching and rounded sleeves and lapels.  Everything is complemented by a pair of handcrafted Italian shoes, a custom-made shirt with channeled collars and an implacable tie-knot that frames his inscrutable face. Everything about this gathering speaks of wealth and power.

China, in all its diversity and incongruity, has descended upon these ancient highlands and has settled comfortably. The rush may be for cheap human resources, for there is plenty of that in Ethiopia. But that doesn’t neatly explain the situation at hand.

China, unwilling or hesitant to reinvest its export surplus from the United States in interest-bearing Treasury bonds of the superpower, is instead electing to hold dollars in cash and lend it to Africans with a curious mix of borrowing terms. Ethiopia, a major beneficiary of this largesse, has been accepting these loans with glee and putting on airs of success.

China’s investment in Ethiopia, like most ventures by other superpowers, is in seeking to further the interests of the Chinese state in Ethiopia, no more. Ethiopia, however, does not have as much as was trumpeted to show for the massive loan-driven investment in infrastructure and industrialisation that exploded ever since China aggressively entered the scene in the early 2000s.