Rock-Hewn Magnificence

Oct. 30th - Nov. 2nd

We left Michelle's at a quarter-to-four. The microbus then picked us up at four on the dot. To our dismay, it then spent the next 30-minutes driving around Bahir Dar is search of some more passengers.

Then, after a pleasant, quick drive to Gashena, we had to talk to a broker who got us seats on another bus to Lalibela. The tarmac road ended there and we made our way across 100 km of mountainous gravel roads. The 2-hour drive was breathtaking. I almost wish it would have taken longer: the rural life unfolding before your eyes and the mountainous landscapes dotted with village huts was magical.

A brief note on Ethiopia's roads. Once touted as some of the most torturous in Africa; but, in the last 5 years, the Chinese have taken large contracts and have been building beautiful, pristine roads all over the country. Even in 2007's Lonely Planet, it states that the journey we had done that morning used to take 2 days. Fifteen years ago, there weren't even any roads to Lalibela and the journey would have taken several days either on foot or by mule. We definitely chose the perfect time to visit!

Once we were dropped off in Lalibela, we commenced our search for accommodations. Up to this point, we had only paid for lodging in that dreadful hotel in Harar, and the fact that most hotels in Lalibela accepted credit cards also contributed to our decision to splurge. We found a beautiful place with a balcony facing some rolling hills and a delightfully hot shower for only 15 dollars a night. This might not seem like much, but in Ethiopia, an ordinary hotel will normally cost you from 2-3 dollars, often including breakfast.

Then, we went to the ticket office and purchased our 5-day passes. Due to the incredible experience on our tours in Harar, we decided that a tour in Lalibela would be the best idea in order to really appreciate and understand what we would be seeing.

By 7 pm, a majority of the locally owned restaurants were closed, so we had to trek all the way back to the ticket office. We chose a small cafe and as we were sitting down, we noticed the distinctive beard of a traveler we had met before. His name was Sven and he was a backpacker from Germany on his way north from South Africa. We had met him in Jinja, Uganda and he had given us some advice regarding places to visit in that country. Due to the theft of my passport, those recommendations were unfortunately and unintentionally discarded.

Sven was having tea with an Austrian guy named Roman who had been doing some WOOFING (working on organic farms) in various African countries and was now just doing some traveling. Roman told a terrifying story of how he was robbed in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. He had been on a beach with his girlfriend and a local guy who they had met on a bus. It was mid-morning and from out of nowhere, a group of machete-wielding men indiscriminately attacked them. One man thrust his machete at Roman and he put his arm up to protect himself. The machete made contact with his elbow, ripping out a piece of flesh. The Tanzanian they were with received a blow to his head while trying to protect Roman and his girlfriend. Roman stated that this man had probably saved his life. After the attack, the perpetrators made off with whatever valuables the victims had on them, including Roman's passport.

Makes my story seem rather insignificant.

Later that evening, Chris and I went to Bet Maryam church and watched an annual ceremony, performed by well over one-hundred Ethiopian Orthodox priests.

Every Saturday night in the month of October, the Orthodox priests assemble and spend the evening chanting, dancing and praying. They do not stop or take breaks for twelve solid hours. As the 12-hours elapse, you can see the fatigue taking over: the priests collapsing into their seats or desperately leaning on their staffs for rest.

Ethiopian Orthodoxy is very distinct from other Christian sects. Many of their rituals resemble Muslim and Jewish practices more-so than western Christianity. The chanting and dancing conveys a sense of mysticism which is absent from Catholicism and Protestantism. One could even say that these rites and traditions could be seen as paganistic or heretical if contrasted to our typical church services. I must admit that if going to church involved chanting and dancing to the beat of drums, while incense filled the air and worshippers draped themselves in white cloaks; I would definitely be more inclined to be religious.

We stayed and watched this marathon of worship for four hours before we decided to finally call it a night. I could only imagine how those priests must have felt; how devoted they must be; how weary and tired they are; and how weak their legs and vocal cords must be by the end of the night; all for the unwavering veneration of God and Christ. As we slept; they prayed.

I just hope they also prayed for me.

After some of the best sleep I've had in months, Chris and I decided to go for a hike on the way to a mountain-perched church named Asheton Maryam, only we would go for the spectacular views and abstain from entering it. After being chased by a group of children chanting "money", "hello", and the irrelevant "where you go?", we finally found someone who was willing to help us. We would be accompanied by two teenage boys who wanted to practice their English.

We used it as an opportunity to improve our Amharic. It was great to finally see young Ethiopians more interested in conversation and learning than getting tourists to give them money. We spent the whole day with them and enjoyed spectacular views of the countryside.

The following day, our tour guide's name was Abay and his English was quite good. He did a tremendous job of giving us the history and explaining the methods used to create these magnificent stone structures. Lalibela is known for its rock-hewn churches, meaning that the churches are carved out of the rock rather than being constructed from brick or stone. The result is indescribable: each church was carved from top to bottom, creating an organic structure that looks to be one with its environment, rather than contrived or gaudy. The reason these churches were constructed in this way was to keep them hidden from the Muslims who would pass through the area. The result is stunning: Chris and I must have passed right by the most famous church countless times, completely oblivious to its location, before finally being brought there by Abay.

Presently, the only reason one would instantly know the location of one cluster of churches is the horrendous, Italian-built, extraterrestrial-looking roof over the area, which was built to protect the churches from the elements. While I definitely agree that everything possible should be done to preserve these sacred buildings, I definitely think they could have come up with a concept that doesn't look so out of place, or so conflicting.

Lalibela has 11 rock-hewn churches. Bet Maryam, Bet Golgotha, Bet Ghel, Bet Meskel, Bet Mika'el and Bet Medhane Alem forming the first cluster.

Bet Amanuel, Bet Merkorios, Bet Abba Libanos and Bet Gabriel-Rufael forming the second cluster.

And finally, the most famous, Bet Giyorgis or St Georges, having its own separate area.

Each church is unique in design and size. They were constructed in a relatively short amount of time and still remain largely intact. Each church within a cluster is linked by various tunnels and passage-ways. Without a guide, you would surely miss some incredible perspectives.

Out of all the churches, St. Georges was was my favorite: from it's hill-side location, to the iconic cross-shape it bears. The fact that each church was carved rather than built means there is no room for error. Every strike from the hammer and chisel is important, is crucial.

After our tour ended, we asked Abay where we could grab a beer. He then took us to a village bar, if that's what you would call it, for tella, a fermented drink served in tomato cans. Not what we had in mind, but decided it was worth trying. I hoped that the brown liquid with particles floating in it was not an omen to what would be emanating from my ass that evening. Thankfully it wasn't.

We then said goodbye to Abay, grabbed some tea and then had some dinner. We had a great time with Sven and Roman. They were fun to hang out with and I'm sure Abay enjoyed entertaining the four of us.

Just before dusk, we climbed a small hill and watched the sunset. As the sun ducked behind the nearby mountains, Chris asked if I would be interested in staying an extra night. I loved this place, I didn't even hesitate to agree with him.

On our last day, we revisited the glorious rock-hewn churches and took our time at each of these ancient wonders. Stunning. Truly, truly stunning.

Lalibela really rocked my world. Pun intended!

Boat Cruises, Burgers and the Blue Nile Falls

Oct 26th -29th

Upon our arrival back in Addis, I had decided that I was ready and willing to take another 10-hour bus ride to Bahir Dar the following morning. I would rather get it over with than spend an extra day in Addis. Chris, on the other hand, chose to stay an extra night at Tobi's and meet up with Muluneh, who had unfortunately been away on my second stopover in Addis.

For the second day in a row, I woke up at 4:30am, took a taxi to the bus station and settled into my comfortable seat on the bus. The scenery on this journey was spectacular. The few road-side bathroom breaks allowed me to take some pictures and take it all in. It also gave me an opportunity to chat with Didi, who was on a different bus going to Gonder, but made all the same stops as mine.

Like most bus rides, I was greeted by a young man intent on selling me something as I stepped off the bus. He was offering a boat cruise to Lake Tana's mystical island monasteries, where the Holy Ark of the Covenant is supposedly hidden. He was offering a 4-hour boat trip to four different monasteries for only 100 Birr (6$). I took down his number and would get back to him once Chris arrived.

Since I had no cell phone, Chris had made arrangements with a couchsurfer named Kyle who would be our host while we were in Bahir Dar. Kyle is a Peace Corps worker from Buffalo, New York, who planned on cycling from the lowest point in Africa in Djibouti to Moshi, Tanzania to then climb Kilimanjaro, reaching Africa's highest point. Pretty amazing concept. I will definitely be following his progress on his blog: www.low2highafrica.blogspot.com.

Michelle, another couchsurfer from Seattle, was also crashing at Kyle's. That evening the three of us discussed each other's journeys, smoked shisha and listened to some great music.

The next morning I would be making my way to the Blue Nile falls, said to be the source of the Blue Nile. It is quite incredible to be able to say that I have been to both the source of the Blue Nile and the White Nile, the latter being in Jinja, Uganda.

The following day, I made my way to the bus station and managed to get a "seat"; actually an empty jerrycan turned on it's side. I was the only forenji on the bus and the bus stopped frequently to accommodate all the sheperds getting on and off the bus. Among the inhabitants of central Ethiopia, an overwhelming majority of the men are shepherds or at least thats how they appear: each one wearing short shorts (don't ask me why), with a blanket draped around their shoulders and a scarf wrapping their heads. These men and even young boys carry around a staff or stick in case an errant animal strays from its group or just happens to be around. These short-shorts wearing shepherds gladly hit these animals, regardless of species, ownership or obedience. I guess if I ever carried around a staff on a regular basis, I would surely be compelled to hit random animals to appease my sadistic, animal-hating dominance over all of God's furry creatures.

While Ethiopia's men carry sticks, Ethiopia's women carry everything but. It is common to see even little old ladies slumped over, carrying 20-30 kg or more on their back. If the family is slightly more wealthy, however, a mule takes over the woman's shlepping duties and gets repeatedly smacked by his master's stick. Ah, rural life in Ethiopia!

The bus finally stopped at Tis Abay, which acts as home to these impressive falls. A short walk with incessant shepherd-boys asking for money, offering directions or playing flutes led to this marvelous natural wonder.

I chatted with some Americans who were also admiring the falls and fiddled with the settings on my camera to get the nicest effect. I then followed the path leading to the base of the falls and was helped across the Nile by a 6-year-old boy who took my hand with a confidence far beyond his years. I gladly tipped him and was happy that he helped me avoid slipping on the rocks, preventing my camera from a watery death in the Nile's rapid flowing waters

By 11:30 am, I was ready to head back to Bahir Dar. The buses only leave when they are full and the time this takes is not even an issue. Two hours pass and we finally had enough shepherds on board to leave. Upon entering this particular bus, I was certain it would not make the 30 km trek back to Bahir Dar. My prediction was unfortunately correct: one hour into the ride (it is only 30 km remember), the bus gets a flat tire. By this point we are still 6-7 km away and myself, a dutch traveler and the only Ethiopian on board who is not a shepherd, start walking towards Bahir Dar. Within a few minutes, we hitch a ride in a flatbed truck and finally arrive back in the city. Almost 5 hours to travel only 30 km: patience is definitely a virtue that all Africans possess!

By the time I got back, Chris' bus would be arriving in only a few minutes. I greeted him and we split a cab with Michelle and Grace, one of Kyle's neighbors and her friend, who just happened to be on the same bus as Chris. We were also greeted by the same guy who had offered me the boat trip the day before. We arranged a meeting time and would do the tour the following day.

That evening, Chris, Kyle, Grace, the Michelles and myself went to SubAfrica, makers of Ethiopia's, if not Africa's best burgers. Don't get me wrong, Ethiopian food is delicious, but eating injera with every single meal becomes monotonous. A succulent burger with cheese and pineapple was absolutely orgasmic.

The following morning we made our way to the dock. Our guy met us and told us not to reveal how much we actually paid to do the trip with him. A middle-aged Italian man joined us on the boat. It turns out that he had paid three-and-a-half times more than us. We kept our mouths shut to avoid starting a fight between our guide and the man.

Lake Tana is Ethiopia's largest lake and is shrouded in legends regarding the location of the Ark of the Covenant, said to be hidden on one of the lake's many islands and guarded by the inhabitants of the island's monasteries: Ethiopian Orthodox monks. These monks are sworn to secrecy and would never reveal where it is supposedly hidden, nor would they answer any questions regarding its whereabouts. The monasteries themselves are rather nondescript, but the artwork adorning their interiors is quite impressive.

Out of the four we were supposed to visit, we only went to two due to the fact that each had it's own admission fee and were actually all quite similar. We visited the oldest, Ura Kidane Mehret, whose paintings date back to 16th century. This monastery also had a "museum", which consisted of one rather nice sheep-skin bible and 2 or 3 other random artifacts. Regardless, I still thought that the highlight of the trip was actually just being on lake Tana.

We returned to the dock and said goodbye to the gypped Italian man and made our arrangements for an early morning pick-up for Lalibela, our next destination. Kyle had left that morning for the city of Gonder, so Michelle was nice enough to let us stay at her place for the night.

Michelle is in Bahir Dar doing her Masters Degree and is researching women's' rights and the challenges they face in a university setting. It is appalling to hear how these women are treated and what many of them are forced to do or resort to doing in order to get passing grades or to stay enrolled. The most disturbing thing is that some of the perpetrators of these "extra-credit" demands are tenured professors from the United States. Little can be done because the instant someone would speak up, the professor would have the girl fail, expelled or simply say she is lying.

For us, education is a right. For these women, it is a privilege, which few in Ethiopia or in Africa in general get to experience. They are forced to choose between their futures and sexual favors.

Which would you choose?

Harar Part II: The Children of Harar

This post is a little different than my usual entries, but these photos were too good to not include in my piece on Harar. All the photos have not been edited yet. Once edited, I will upload them to flikr along with other photos I have taken of children throughout Africa. Enjoy!