Ethiopia : marvel & misery
I went to Ethiopia twice, in 1995 & 1996. The first time I went was during the rainy season, the second in the dry.
To get there, I organized a lift with Borana truckers in Nairobi who regularly drove in convoys up to Moyale on the border. I found them in Eastridge (Nairobi) sitting around chewing qat (a mild stimulant) near the truck depot. Along with other traders, I paid them a fee for a three-day ride across the Chalbbi Desert through Isolo and Marsabit. Somali bandits were known to attack the convoys, so military protection rode with us, sporting high-powered rifles. The ride amounted to sitting atop planks of timber under a tarp as we bounced across rutted desert tracks for three days. Then, from Moyale, it meant another three days of buses from the border to Addis Ababa, through little towns like Dila. After a week on this sort of transport, ranging across such extreme terrains, I was a wreck by the time I reached the capital. Nobody knows why I bothered to do it twice!
Within Ethiopia, I travelled pretty extensively over the two months I was there. From the south (Moyale, Dila) to the center (Addis Abeba, Awash, Sodere, Debra Libanos) to the east (Dire Dawa, Harar) and to the north (Bahr Dar, Lalibela, Makele, and Axum). It was the most difficult country that I travelled to in Africa: not only physically, but emotionally.
Bahr Dar & Tissisat Falls
But first things first: Ethiopia is quite beautiful. For instance, on the shores of Lake Tana lies Bahr Dar, a lush and pleasant market town near Tissisat Falls. This is the headwaters to the Blue Nile. The town itself is rather unremarkable, but the shoreline allowed for fantastic excursions, always with a gaggle of curious children in tow. There was never a moment when I was left alone: a few kids were always hanging on my hip, going wherever I went. In fact, throughout the country, kids like these would either follow me around or simply yell "ferenji!" (foreigner) at me again and again. They seemed curious about me and other travellers, but they weren't always hospitable. Some threw stones at us while merrily yelling ferenji ferenji! It was quite disconcerting.
The most memorable aspect of Bahr Dar is Tissisat Falls. This is where the Blue Nile starts it long and torturous trek across Ethiopia to the Sudan down to Egypt and the Mediterranean. It provides more water than the White Nile, which loses a lot of its volume to marshlands and tributaries in Uganda. The fact that the main source of the mighty Nile originates in Ethiopia has always made it a bit of a political hot potato. Many colonial officials dreamed of controlling the Nile, and therefore Egypt itself. But while such fantasies have faded, the majestic Nile roars on. The pictures below show how gorgeous the setting is for the falls. And the action at the market, with its cattle, foodstuffs and beautiful cloths, shows how interesting the town can be on certain days.
Aksum
In the northern reaches of the country lies the fascinating city of Aksum (or Axum). It is famous for two things: the ancient stellae (obelisk-like stone pillars) and the claim by the Ethiopian Orthodox Church to possess the actual Old Testament Ark of The Covenant. The stellae you can view in a lovely park, but the Ark you must just take their word for. If they do have it, they do not show it publicly. It is apparently under safe-keeping at the nearby Grand Cathedral.
This is a holy area for Ethiopian Orthodox Christians because it ties them to Old Testament heros like King Solomon. From here, Ethiopians traded with the Middle Eastern world before Islam or Christianity existed. Queen Sheba is reputed to have ruled here, even visiting King Solomon (according to the Bible). Local legends suggest that they had 'relations,' and that Sheba bore a son from Solomon. That son, Tewodros, visited Solomon and spirited away the Ark to Ethiopia. Graham Hancock, a British myth-hunter, shows in his book The Sign and the Seal that the Ark makes a rather inexplicable disappearance from Old Testament texts: considering that the Ark was the most revered object in Judaism, it is indeed strange that there's no big explanation for its sudden absence. So what happened to it?
Well, for a very long time, the Ethiopians have claimed to have it. In fact, they're the only people in the world to do so. And, more importantly, they're the only group that still practices Ark commemoration. And, just to pile on more intriguing facts, Jews (called Beta Israel) have been in Ethiopia since before Christianity. So could the Ark claim be true?
Aksum is intriguing for its history. And that's about it. I can barely remember anything from that town except the stuff that I'm supposed to remember: the stellae and the Ark! But, to be honest, those are some pretty good memories to have. Click above to the see the stellae.
Lalibela
Back in the '90s, during the rainy season, the only way to get around was by air. Most of the roads were totally impassable. At the time, Ethiopian Airlines had an amazing deal: you could fly to 5 historical cities for just $90! So I hopped around the country in their tiny domestic airplanes and went to Lalibela, amongst other places. Lalibela is famed for the rock-hewn churches (of which I can't seem to find any pictures of!). They were sculpted out of the rocky ground, a true architectural feat.
Surrounding Lalibela are beautiful hills and valleys. At the top of one of them was a monastery that a local kid led me up to. It too was carved out of the rock behind 3 window-like panels (pictured below).
Gondar - Medieval Castle Complex
I was fortunate to be in Gondar during the rainy season. It was so beautiful and lush. This is a medieval town where multiple generations of kings built castle after castle. They've created a lovely legacy for architectural romantics like myself to mosey around and enjoy. The town itself is quite hilly, with everything centering on the sprawling castle complex.
Besides the medieval castles, I will remember Gondar for one particular experience. Like in many Ethiopian cities at the time, there were lots of blind and maimed beggars trolling around. Many were casualties of war. But others had been stricken by diseases that no one seemed able to cure. On one street, a sort of "beggar's lane" where dozens of sickly folks lined up to beg, one man lay on the ground with only his torso covered. Below that he was naked. He laid there in the road groaning in agony while an associate stood behind him, begging on his behalf. The sick man left his genitals uncovered, revealing gigantic testicles that were malformed or inflated with some sort of tumor (I presume). His testicles were the size of footballs, all marbled with veins, the skin stretched beyond its limit. They seemed impossibly heavy too. (How could he even stand up? Certainly his balls needed manual support.) Like the castles of Gondar, his ailment seemed so "medieval."
Christianity
Christianity has been in Ethiopia since the 4th Century A.D. (Judaism has been there even longer.) Over the millennia, this has allowed for a fascinating and unique form of the religion to take root, expressed in interesting ways. As I mentioned above, Ethiopian Christians are the only ones who still commemorate the Old Testament Ark of the Covenant through various public rituals. And they've got old monasteries and churches where angels (painted as faces on the ceiling) look down from heaven on the worshippers. At other newer places, they've got ornate stained glass windows telling Biblical stories in detail. Many of these churches and monasteries are sites of pilgrimage for the local faithful.
Lots can be said about Ethiopian Christianity, with its unique calendar (which is 7 years or so behind the Gregorian calendar) and its special rituals. But on a daily basis, what struck me was how important fasting was in the culture. For observant believers, there were around 200 days of fasting per year (often tied to the multitude of holy days, Saints days, etc.). This struck me as excessive until I realized how valuable such self-restraint could be in the fluctuating climate of the highlands. As everyone knows, Ethiopia suffers from periodic bouts of drought and famine. These situations are exacerbated by political problems. But the local form of Christianity makes fasting a virtue, so food is rarely wasted at a personal level. People know how to live with less. So when fasting days came around (which was very often), this meant that people didn't eat or drink more than a certain amount during the day time, but they could have a small meal in the evening. It wasn't an all-out form of fasting (not starvation, nor accompanied by Ramadan-type evening feasts), but a steady, practical and functional response to the vicissitudes of life. Pretty smart idea. (And no obesity!)
Culture
If Ethiopia had anything going for it when I visited, it was culture. Not only is it home to the famed highland Christians and their ancient civilization, but it also boasts populations of nomadic Muslims in the east and south, and Nilotic animists in the west. Very diverse. But in the mid-90s, nothing was set up for tourism. So locals weren't self-conscious in their cultural reproduction: they just did what they did because they wanted to, not because they were keen to make any money off of it. It's rare these days to see people perform their culture in such a way. It was refreshing.
One of the coolest aspects of highlands culture is their traditional dancing, called iskistah. The main movement is a rapid shoulder shrugging as they move about. But the shrugs are so fast, so rhythmic, that it looks different to any other dance style. If it's a special occasion, people will wear their white garb with the embroidered colorful edges. Then their shoulders flutter with such grace. I must admit, I tried to learn iskistah as well. I practiced for months. But it's hard to let your shoulders fly loose from your body, just bouncing up and down in a controlled rhythm. (I'm waiting for a rapper to use it in a video: that'll take it global.)
Of course, the other famous aspect of Ethiopian culture revolves around its cuisine and coffee. I already talked about the wonderful coffee ceremony in the Eritrea page (a long, drawn-out social affair over freshly-brewed coffee: perfect!), but the food is just as tasty and social. The staple food is injera, a massive pancake of bread (made from a local wheat, called teff) on which a whole bunch of other foods are laden.
Dished up on a large plate, it's for sharing. So everyone crowds around the dish and slowly peels off strips of injera, then dips it into accompaniments like spicy chicken and a hard-boiled egg (doro wat), vegetables, goat meat, etc. If you're with friends or family, you can even make a morsel of food and feed it to your mate. It becomes communal and intimate. I found Ethiopian food to be the tastiest on the continent, full of flavor, texture and surprises. (It's no wonder that it's a big hit internationally too now.) But be forewarned: it will surprise your tastebuds, but it also might surprise your tummy as well. (I always carried extra t.p. - you know what I'm talking about!)
Marvellous, yes, but Miserable too
From the report thus far, you'd think I had a great time in Ethiopia. Not so. Of the 17 African countries I visited during my 4-year backpacking odyssey, Ethiopia was the "worst." The reason: not only were people rather unkind to me (constantly yelling ferenji at me), but they didn't seem to like each other either as well.
Actually, I can deal with locals disliking me as a foreigner. Maybe I remind them of colonialism or the Cold War or the CIA: whatever. But when locals don't get along with each other, when different ethnic groups hate each other for whatever reason, it's just sad. Perhaps this negativity was just a product of that time period, but the overwhelming pessimism and distrust stood in deep contrast to the other more optimistic countries I visited.
Ethiopia is an old country with long-standing animosities between different groups. The struggle for pre-eminence between the Amhara and the Oromo has been going on for centuries. When I was there, those tensions were further heightened. I felt as if I'd walked into a brutal family squabble. In fact, no matter how kind certain individuals were to me, the atmosphere was defined by this over-arching feud.
I sensed everyone was tired of it. After all, Ethiopia has a proud history and a famous civilization, but it has little to show for its potential. It enjoys a diverse population with incredible talents, but it just doesn't seem able to capitalize on its strengths. Everyone seemed to lament this fact. It's been a long time since I was there, so I'm hoping it has improved.
* Note :: I will say that, even though I was jumped 3 times by muggers in Ethiopia, I did have some moments of levity. I met some people in Addis who remain friends to this day. Sadly (or happily), they've all left Ethiopia to chase their dreams, educations and opportunities elsewhere. But one amazing moment stands out in my memory. As we all know, great runners come from Ethiopia. But I never knew how inspirational their success was to the rest of the population. One morning in Addis, I woke up early to take a bus out of the city. As I walked to the terminus, there were literally thousands of people jogging along the streets. Young and middle-aged people were kitted out in track suits, jogging up and down the big boulevards. The whole city seemed alive, moving, running, restless. It was incredible. In fact, the very street kids who had tried to pick-pocket me the day before were also busy jogging together. I'll never forget that mass morning jog.
