Seasons on the Move

Lalibela to Addis Ababa – February 15

We visited Bete Giyorgis in the early morning. This time, the gate was open. On the way inside, we met a group of Ethiopians, one of whom had been to Saskatoon before. Small world. The church was impressive and is distinctly marked by a large Ethiopian cross on the roof with no UNESCO monstrosity to obscure our view. I wanted to get some pictures of the priests, but a large tour group of Orthodox Eastern Europeans prevented me from doing so.

After waiting for nearly five hours at the airport for our delayed flight to arrive, we departed Lalibela for Addis Ababa. In Addis, we took a mini-bus down to the Piazza where our hotel was located. Prostitutes in neon hot pants leaned against the doorways outside of the clubs lining the streets. Dancehall music reverberated from the sound systems inside the darkened buildings.

We checked into the hotel, split a double room with Julian to save some money (this time he got the pushed together chairs) and then hit the streets in search of some CDs. I wanted to pick up some Teddy Afro and Tamarak, the artist I had heard on non-stop replay throughout my entire time in Ethiopia. Luckily, I ran into Solomon, a Rasta, dreadlocked friend Julian had made in Addis, who hooked me up with some discs at an internet cafe.

I returned to the hotel a while later and had some injera for dinner with Fab. Ethiopian food had been some of the best we had had on the trip so far, which was somewhat ironic given that most of the Western world associates the country with famine.

Lalibela – February 14

We climbed back up the steep hill to the entrance of the northern group of churches. Ethiopians in white robes stood around outside praying and holding colorful umbrellas with gold tassel trim. From the entrance we could see the churches, clearly marked by the ostentatious UNESCO roofs above them, installed to prevent water seepage and consequent damage to the murals inside. In fact, the churches are said to have been built by the Ethiopians in an attempt to create a second Jerusalem after Jerusalem fell to the Muslims.

The churches were built during the 12th and 13th centuries during the reign of Lalibela, hence the town’s name, although the dating is not exact. There are twelve churches in total, but we only visited the northern, western and eastern groups since the southern churches are further afield. The churches are particularly interesting since they are not actually built out of rock, but, as our guidebook said, “entirely freed from the rock”. Indeed, the churches are solid monoliths carved out of the bedrock and located below ground level.

The northern group consists of Bete Medhane Alem, home to the Lalibela Cross (stolen by a Belgian collector a few years ago, but now returned) and touted as the largest monolithic church in the world. A small tunnel cut into the bedrock leads you to Bete Maryam, most likely the oldest of the churches and contains an interior pillar wrapped in cloth. There are conflicting legends about the wrapped post. One legend says that the post is wrapped because it contains inscriptions that state that foreigners, not Ethiopians built the church. The other legend says that the post is wrapped because it contains mystical powers. It’s easy to figure out which one the Ethiopians believe. The last church in the group Bete Golgotha, believed to contain the tomb of King Lalibela himself.

The eastern group contains four more rose colored churches: Bete Amanuel, one of my favorites, Bete Merkorios, supposedly a former prison, Bete Abba Libanos and Bete Gabriel-Rufael. More tunnels and caves connect the churches, included one pitch dark 30m long tunnel that took some serious guess work to navigate.

After finishing up and getting lost in a warren of cave dwellings outside the eastern group, we headed over to the western group, containing only one church, Bete Giyorgis, said to be the crowning artistic achievement among the churches. Unfortunately, the gate keeper decided that he was tired and closed the church nearly two hours early, causing one Swiss tourist to lose his fucking mind. We just shrugged it off and decided to come back the next day before our afternoon flight back to Addis Ababa.

Mesket Enscarpment to Lalibela – February 13

We caught a ride by the side of the road near the bottom of the enscarpment. The mini-van took us north to Lalibela, home to rock hewn churches and the centre of the Ethiopian Orthodox world. Oure trekking days were over.

We stumbled upon Michael and Matthais, who had left us in Gonder and went further north to Axum, at a restaurant at the top of a punishing hill – Ethiopia is full of them. We dined with them and then went to another azmari joint to take in some traditional music.

The place was actually more of a tej beat than a proper azmari place. Tej is an Ethiopian honey wine that is served in laboratory beakers. Fab and I slammed back a few beakers and then decided to leave. The azmaris were subpar and the tej too strong. Besides, we had rock hewn churches to see the next day. We bid farewell to the Germans, telling them to visit us in Canada, and retired for the evening.

Mesket Enscarpment – February 12

The trek to Yadukulay, the third and final stop on our trip, was anything but easy. The entire walk was down the rocky face of a steep hill. My knees took a beating and Fab twisted her ankle. It was impossible to find solid footing, although you wouldn’t know it by the amount of Ethiopians that constantly flew by us. It was like walking down a landslide. As Julian said, ”Who in their right mind thought this would be a good trekking route?”

We got to Yadukulay just before sunset. To celebrate our punishment incurred during the day, Fab and I downed a bunch of Bedele beers.  We were joined by another trekking group later in the evening. It consisted of two boring Canadians from Victoria and a smart ass limey from Sheffield.

The other group’s guide, Mariam, gave me a history lesson around the camp fire. She hated Hallie Sellassie, thought he was out of touch and full of himself (the rest of the Ethiopians present disagreed), admired Menelik – who she called the great importer and improver, and idolized Tewedros, the great innovator, inspirational force and unifier of Ethiopia. Like almost everyone else in Ethiopia, Mariam despired the Derg, the Communist party that overthrew Selassie and plunged the country into decades of war. Oh yes, and Mariam also told us that the older generation of people in the country still say, “I swear to Haille Selassie” when they want to ensure others about their truthfullness.

Mesket Enscarpment – February 11

The walk during the day was easier than the first, more of a leisurely stroll than a trek. We took our time over the 16km distance and had a drawn out lunch underneath some acacia trees, sipping warm soft drinks and eating cold injera. After finishing, we stopped by a monastery to watch some ongoing restoration work.

We approached the site for the night, Atero, through a wind swept field bustling with gelada baboons. Like a lot of Ethiopians, Esubayu considered the baboons a nuisance and tossed rocks at them to get them out of our way. Fab told him to stop. He did. Too bad he didn’t throw rocks at the kids that threw rocks at us when we passed through a village along the way.

Because Atero is at a higher altitude than Wajela, the night was considerably cooler. I don’t think the temperature was too much lower, but the site is perched on a unprotected bluff overlooking the valley and the wind was fierce. When we retired for the evening, the candles we had lit in our room quickly melted into hardened pools on account of the substantial draft sneaking in through the sod walls.

Mesket Enscarpment – February 10

We met our trekking group by the side of the road mid-morning. Along with Jules, Fab and I, there was an older Irish couple from Belfast, John and Carmella. With them was Esubayu, our guide for the trip. Our packs were packed on the pack mules and then we were off.

Compared with the trekking in the Simien Mountains, the walk along the enscarpment was a piece of cake. Aside from one rocky yet gentle slope, there was nothing challenging about the day. The views weren’t as impressive either, but then again the Simien Mountains are a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We got to the camp after a few hours of walking, just in time to have a pancake snack with home made honey and hot tea. I took the opportunity to take an ice cold open air shower in a reed enclosed cubicle overlooking the surrounding valley. Fab sat and read “Lolita” on the edge of the enscarpment and basked in the warm sun.

Our accommodation for the evening was in individual tukuls, small round sod houses with thatched roofs. The site, Wajela, was newly constructed so all the bed linen, which contained intricate stitch work, was fresh and clean. At night, after an injera dinner and  traditional coffee ceremony, we retired to our rooms and read our books by candle light.

Gonder to Filakit – February 9

We got on a bus to Filakit, a small town that apparently no Ethiopian had ever heard of, at five in the morning. By noon the bus had broken down in the middle of nowhere. Fab, Julian and I, along with David, an American we had met in the wee hours of the morning, sat sweating in the bus for five frustrating hours. Kids outside the bus poked at us with sticks and yelled “Faranji, faranji!” for hours on end.

Around five o’clock we decided to give up on the bus and hitch our way to Filakit, about 20km down the road. We were accompanied by a group of small children that mocked us and threw rocks at us from behind. Seriously, the children in this country are out of control.

We had no luck with our thumbs until we came upon a road construction site operated by a Chinese company. David convinced the foreman, River, a young Chinese man with coke bottle glasses, to give us a ride to Filakit in one of the team’s dump trucks. Us faranjis got into the front cab while a group of Ethiopians piled into the back.

Within fifteen minutes we were in Filakit, just as the sun disappeared for the day. Since the broken down bus had forced most people to overnight in Filakit, we couldn’t find a room. Luckily, the group we were due to trek with, TESFA, was affiliated with the Save the Children office in town and they had vacant rooms.

We traded our left over food from the Simien Mountains trek for a couple of rooms and a home cooked meal and dined by candle light (the power was out). David told us about his work with an NGO in Uganda and how he was raised in Madagascar and Tanzania. Fab and I talked about our trip and Jules silently fumed because David was drinking all of his water.  

Gonder – February 8

We spent the entire day in the hotel compound soothing our ankles and washing our clothes. The Simien Mountains had covered everything we owned in a thin, fine layer of dust. I read Saul Bellow and sipped macchiatos. Fab drank tea and perused Nabokov. Michael and Matthais paid a visit to the man who promised us a 4WD and demanded a partial refund. Jules drank Coca Cola and wrote in his journal. The next day, we were due to begin another trek along the Mesket Enscarpment.