Awoke this morning back in Gulu, to the feeling of being back in the twilight zone. The deep bass drum of the marching band vibrated the windows had the distinctly ominous sound of a call to action. After having read in three different publications yesterday about Museveni’s threat to turn parliament over to the army if this “confusion” (factions disagreeing with his handling of the recent murder of a member of Parliament) continues, I wondered…. But as I quickly threw on some clothes and found the keys to unlock while the brass section joined the drum – it stopped as abruptly as it had begun. So I still don’t know what all the drum-beating was about, but Gulu seems to be its normal, somewhat chaotic self. So I went to breakfast to verify normalcy – at least in my mind (I know now your laughing…) if not elsewhere.
I have survived yet another trip into Kampala, another stay at the Annex and another LABE yearly Strategic Planning Retreat – my last. We were spared a third day having been invited to attend the swearing in of the new group of 40+ PCVs. Lovely to realize that we’ve been here 18 months now and we’re seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and it’s not a train (cuz’ there aren’t any trains in Uganda!).
Re-entry to Uganda and site was a bit brutal after being away from almost a month and a half. On December 9th I left site to go in for they early medical interview required by Peace Corps and stayed until our happy group of four departed for Ethiopia. We had lunch overlooking Lake Victoria before heading to the airport three hours early and it was a good thing we gave ourselves plenty of time. We were greeted at the one set of doors entering the airport by a huge and unruly gang of travelers all trying to get through the one door at the same time. Lines – orderly or not – do not work in Uganda. If there’s more than a hair’s breadth between you and the person in front of you or one the side, it’s too much. Late arrivals bullied their way through the waiting throng like it was our fault they didn’t get to the airport in time to catch their flight. It was beginning to get ugly as we neared the door and people were throwing the bags onto the ONE luggage x-ray machine (the second one died just as we entered). More than once in that debacle I wondered if things would turn violent and wasn’t happy about relinquishing my bags with camera and money to a conveyor belt where it would be easy for anyone to grab them on the way through. I had all of my trip money on me and it made me nervous.
We did a bit of bullying of our own and arrived at the other side with belongings in tact only to arrive at the ticket counter to be bullied again when they demanded we give them our credit cards so they could make a copy of the one used to buy our online tickets. Logic having failed we decided it was time to pull the Muzungu card and said “no way you’re getting access to that – call security if you must.” So they only copied our passports and reluctantly gave us boarding passes. It felt like a scam, but I’ve heard it from others…
I arrived at my assigned window seat to discover it filled to overflowing with a large, smelly man who seemed to think that he should have the seat because he wanted it and he liked it better than his assigned seat. Really? Well tough – move over. I had to endure his smothering odor for the next few hours with the help of the overhead shot of air. Still – the airline itself was nice, the food was good and in general it was more efficient than most Stateside carriers!
We arrived in Addis Ababa late and there was no one there to met us. Aided by a very nice Ethiopian man with a telephone that worked (ours didn’t work outside Uganda) he happened to know the person attached to the number we gave him and found them waiting at the domestic terminal. Huh?
The second surprise on arrival was how chilly it was! But we had arrived in tact – luggage in tact – our $20 visas (obtained in a very orderly fashion) in hand and ready for food which we found just a short walk from our budget hotel.
he next morning we were met by our fabulous tour guide, Awoke, and driver and had our first of many cups of Ethiopian coffee. For four coffee snobs, this was heaven. We piled into our four wheel drive I named El Burro about a week into the trip after discovering that it took to the sometimes-treacherous roads like the ubiquitous donkeys that make Ethiopia work and headed for Bahir Dar.
Donkeys were often so overloaded with teff (the grain used to make injera) and hay that all that could be seen were huge piles gliding down the road or up the mountain apparently on sticks. After passing we would discover the pile had a head and big brown soulful looking eyes. Note the ears sticking out at the front of this pile.
The 19 days traveling around northern Ethiopia, known for its amazing underground churches chiseled out of solid rock were filled with history, dazzling landscapes, an untold number of pee-stops in some of the most beautiful places on the planet and one gasp of amazement after another. It’s hard to believe that the symmetry of these churches and the artwork was produced in the 5th and 6thcenturies. Some the oldest are accessible only by hiking and climbing (more on that later) and have survived only because of their remoteness. Some can only be reached via vertical climbs only a free-climber can manage. (That wouldn’t be us).
While there are good and cheap flights to some of these areas, we would have missed the breathtaking beauty of the countryside traversed to reach them. Most of northern Ethiopia is mountainous and we’re talking 12,000 feet! These expanses of dramatic mountain-scapes dwarf the Grand Canyon.
Here are a few peak events so I don’t bore you to death…
The Blue Nile Gorge: accessed via a hike of about 45 minutes the falls of the Blue Nile were spectacular even in dry season. As if on cue a rainbow appeared in the mist and we spotted a manger down in the valley that seemed perfectly timed and placed for Christmas – especially since one of the Tree Wise Men was said to be Ethiopian and we were in the land of Fransinsence These falls used to extend over the full section of exposed rock before one of the dams was installed – probably looked more like Niagra, but it is still impressive.
Lake Tana: a huge Lake boasting islands dotted
with ancient monasteries dating back the the the 17th Century. We came across a flock of Great White Pelicans sharing the lake with fishermen in Papyrus boats. Worship includes huge painted (often) ceremonial drums. You can get a glimpse of some of the artwork here. This is original and un-retouched.
Fasilades Palace: an absolutely huge complex of castles dating back to the 1600’s, complete with steam baths, lion cages and a hall built specifically for music.
Mingling with Bleeding Heart Baboons was a high point for me. These peaceful, beautiful grass eaters allowed us to walk among them in a state of awe and bliss and they constantly picked at the grass, nursed babies and preened.
Awaiting us – high in the astounding mountains – was a ragged group of local children who had set up “shop” a short walk away, selling their wares in relative calm, until we showed some interest and then the push started. It was the start of what became a real problem at some locations where we would be hawked mercilessly and sometimes dangerously. That night we nearly froze in the hotel and while we were thrilled to have indoor showers, we were too cold to get wet. Having planned on cool weather but not freezing, we could have really used a subarctic sleeping bag.
In case you haven’t guessed these baboons are so named because of the dominant bright pink flesh in the middle of the chest. It’s really large on the malesas you can see in this picture. We met tribes of Bleeding Hearts several times as we went on down the mountain and they were never the slightest bit hostile or aggressive. When we got closer than about 2 feet they would simply meander as a group a little further on. I worried a bit when we had to make one of our find-a-bush stops smack in the middle of a huge tribe, but they didn’t even look our way.
Christmas Eve found us at the miserable little town of Hawzen with seemingly no redeeming features and tho determined to mutiny and demand we leave before our few days of sight seeing there were up, we spent Christmas Day clamoring up a ridiculously steep mountain in search of a church. This Christmas Day will go down in history. After climbing a treacherous assent to view one of the famous rockhewn churches, Betty and I opted to sit it out a third of the way up. My fear of heights and the challenge of a climb that ( had it been rapids would have been Force 9 – the only higher rating for this mountain would be Free-climbing straight up). Holly and Bill continued with the aid of two helpers, as Betty and I sat on a ledge listening to Christmas music and Chris Kristopherson on her Kindle, gasping as our Ethiopian companion hoped around the edges of cliffs and hoping the next days church hike would be less harrowing.
If we weren’t chagrined enough, we sat there and witnessed the daily Ethiopian trekkers (including a woman of about 70) climbing down like mountain goats and the priest hopping gingerly down the canyon wall – having taken the “easy route.” Still – it was a good decision to stay put and the scramble down was made mostly on our butts. For our endurance, we were thrilled to find space available at a little Italian lodge where stuffed ourselves with a Christmas Dinner of sumptuous pasta, green salad with veggies fresh from their garden, wine and Christmas toffee offered by a British tourist.
The town redeemed itself again with Market Day which was an olfactory and visual carnival of merchants selling raw honey, Frankinsense, the classic handwoven shawls (shammas?), every spice you can think of and then some, red peppers which are seen drying everywhere along the roadsides, donkeys, injera ovens, baskets, bushels of eggs… In 1988 this market was the scene of one of the worst massacres in recent times when Eritrean Air Force attacked the market with cluster-bombs killing 3000 people. To this day, while Eritrea and Ethiopia share a culture, one cannot get to Eritrea directly from any point in Ethiopia.
Everywhere along the way, we saw huge, orderly piles of something that looked like hay, but was much finer. And there were people everywhere slashing and harvesting a very fine looking grass. Every hut and village boasted multiple piles of perfectly symmetrical stacks of this stuff and donkeys and carts and even camels were piled high with it. Then there were circular threshing areas with a team of cows stomping something. That would be teff, the smaller-than-sesame grain that is ground into paste, mixed with water and allowed to ferment before it is poured onto a huge crepe like disc and baked on an open fire.
On the way out, we passed a teff farmer who was threshing teff out in the desert. Our wonderful driver stopped and asked if we could see his process. Not only did we get to see it, this farmer took out his lunch of injera and a thick chili dip (can’t remember the name) and shared it with us.
Here are a few pictures of the process from start to finish.
To the right is the traditional oven; below the woman is
removing it from the earthenware plate.
Something I’d not known about this bread is the fact that it is fermented in the process of becoming a dough, and that’s what gives it its spongy texture.
In the next few days we toured so many amazing churches it’s hard to remember the names. Artwork characterized by intense colors, big eyes (which hold huge significance in Ethiopian art) and gory be-headings covered every available surface. In religious art – and it’s all religious in Ethiopia – two eyes shown denote a good person, one eye shown with the face in profile denotes “evil.” And always the pupils are huge, round and black – looking in a direction. So one tends to remember the artwork, the crosses (there are hundreds – but each of three regions has it’s own cross: Gondor, Axum, Lalibella) and odd characteristics of places and people. For example, this almost other-worldly picture I took at one remote church on the way to Lalibela is pretty unforgettable. It was taken with available light and no movement. Note what appears to be a vapor streaming off the cross and his robes. It was not visible to the naked eye and not in either of the pictures before or after taken in the same location, but not of the “sacred relics.” I’ve had this experience with orbs and some other strange “energy forms” but this was a first.
Lalibela is world famous for it’s rock-hewn churches, the most famous probably being St. Georges (featured in one of the Amazing Race episodes) chiseled in the shape of cross. Words don’t begin to work here and not even pictures do it justice. But who in the world would look at a piece of rock and say, “Wow, let’s make a church? Got a chisel?” Apparently a lot of people did. There are hundreds.
A number of churches in the general area were built built IN a cave. Ethiopia’s Christmas is on January 7 (Julian calendar) and the high point of this trek was the pilgrims who had hiked barefoot up the mountains for thirteen days. The belief is that if you make a pilgrimage to this particular church once in your lifetime, you are absolved of all sins and also have the privilege of being buried there. Interestingly, families will bring the body back there, but burial entails being left on a stack of other remains and covered with a little dirt. The next layer is just piled on. Kinda like a grotesque layer cake. The stack now is many feet high. Note the skull on the top of the pile.
Another church in the Lalibela group included a long dark tunnel (and I do mean dark – not a glimmer of light.) The tunnel which can only be navigated with feeling your way through is symbolically the dark journey through hell before lifting yourself up to the light of God. The four of us needed a little help to climb out of hell. I feel sure that’s loaded with significance… They went to a lot of trouble to build churches in remote areas to save them from marauding interlopers who wanted to crush Christianity and take over Ethiopia. One positive outcome of the on-going battle between Judiasm and Christianity has been a blending and acceptance of both beliefs and a full recognition of both religions holidays. And a bit of trivia: at each church we paid an entry fee, a local guide whether we used one or not, the priest (often surly) for opening the church – and at the Lalibela churches – a shoekeeper. Yes – and it turns out he was worth every birr, because as we would enter into one church we merged into another and another – to exit somewhere down the way and there would be our shoes! He even tried to tie them for us! But I seem to remember being allowed to keep our shoes on in hell. (And although I hear there’s beer in hell, we didn’t find any there.)
The trip ended in Addis Ababa – where – yes – we shopped and discovered a wonderful artist there who really captured the humor embodied in the chaos of the city and the ever-present herds of donkeys. Everything stops to allow donkeys with their enormous loads to cross the road. We fell in love with these sweet beasts-of-burden, their endearing personalities and soulful eyes. Donkeys are so much a part of every Ethiopian farm family, there are Donkey sanctuaries to care for the old and ailing – donkeys that is. And – we seemed not to be able to get away from Peace Corps insanity. In Uganda there is a no-boda-policy. You can try for a Boda waiver (unlikely) but one understandable has to wear a helmet. Frankly, I understand this policy… However, in Ethiopia Peace Corps has a no-DONKEY-policy and one must apply for a Donkey Waiver, or be sent home if caught riding one. And – ya gotta have a helmet. A horse policy I can understand and even mules can be obstreperous, but I’d sure like to know the history of the donkey ban.
So there you are. It was a grand trip. Ethiopia is I think the only country in Africa that has never been colonized and it is very evident. It has retained the full measure of its cultural history and fought one invader after another. It’s a dictatorship basically, but it is meticulously clean and we NEVER saw a shred of litter in the countryside and almost non in the cities. The roads are excellent, with the exception of a few that are unpaved, but even those a graded and good by Ugandan standards. There is a strong Chinese presence there in road building. There is no land ownership. At the same time there is no military or police presence. I’d love to go to the south and visit the truly primitive, tribal part of the country.
My parting picture is one of a basket stall in Axum. There are so many beautiful crafts there, ranging from baskets to silver and hand carved wooden crosses, that I was hard pressed not to fill an additional suitcase! But – you’d have been proud. I traveled for 21 days and was gone a total of six weeks and did it all out of one smallish REI backpack/medium backpack! How times have changed…
