Ethiopia: a tourist’s tale
on Melissa Hipkins (Rwanda), 20/Aug/2010 05:55, 34 days ago
Ethiopia would not have been top of the list of our holiday destinations while huddled round the fire on a winter's day in the UK. Truth be told, we only went because it's virtually on the doorstep but I'm glad we did.Ethiopia's a large country and we only had time to sample the north and south in the 2 weeks we were there. The north is coming out of its wet season and you somehow don't think of this part of Africa being so green and productive.We arrived in Addis in the rain at night and we had to leave very early in the morning so it was only while looking from the plane flying towards Lalibela that we had some idea of the richness of the countryside. Villages mostly constructed traditionally from wood and mud with grass roofs lay within a stockade; not to keep anything out but to provide overnight enclosures for the herds of cattle goats and sheep. Initially we were mystified by the occasional presence of a much larger round hut in its own enclosure until we were told it was the church. Ethiopia is very bound up with religion, a small majority adhering to the Ethiopian Orthodox Church with Muslims a close second.Surrounding these settlements were large fields; much larger than we are used to seeing in Rwanda. The gentler slopes and the use of oxen to pull ploughs go some way to explain the difference. Farmers here have some difficulty in understanding why Rwandans don't use ploughs of any description and stick to teams of people digging with hoes, especially considering how many cattle there are in Rwanda.Once away from Lalibela airstrip and with some 20 km to cover before reaching the town, we could get a better idea of the intensity of the cultivation and the extent to which cattle, sheep and goats figure in the system. Even though many of the fields were water-logged, ploughing was still going on. What crop was to be planted in the freshly turned soil, especially so near to the next dry season, was not clear.As we approached the town, the landscape became steeper and the fields more terraced. It was the main day for market and we passed endless streams of people taking goods towards Lalibela. The main difference between the market crowds in Rwanda and Ethiopia is the use of donkeys as pack animals; no animals at all are used for pack or draught in Rwanda, and those people that do carry goods in Ethiopia use their shoulders not their heads. All Ethiopian men can be seen with a stick about 3 feet long that they use to help spread the load on their shoulders; the object to be carried is placed on the left shoulder with part of it projecting behind, then the stick is held half-way over the right shoulder and used as a lever under this projection to support the load using both shoulders.The other huge difference between the two countries is the interminable presence of herds of cattle, sheep and goats on the road. Everywhere we went, in towns villages and deep in the mountains, you could guarantee to come across animals sitting in the road, just about to cross the road, herds blocking the road or being herded along the road. When animals were not being driven but grazing then you knew not far away will be a collection of small boys nominally in charge. Cars and lorries seemed to take little notice of the risks posed by the presence of these animals, hardly slowing when weaving through them. The animals themselves were as bad, taking no heed of horns or oncoming vehicles, walking at a steady pace across the road with their gaze fixed ahead despite the traffic. We saw at least 3 dead donkeys in the road and dogs and vultures gnawing at skeletons of other cattle or donkeys killed by the side of the road.Lalibela is famous for its rock hewn churches; that is to say they have been carved and sculpted in situ and so rest in the resulting pits. They are all actively in use and each one has its resident cleric on duty to oversee the behaviour of visitors and protect the church's sanctity. The ravages of erosion and rain have led to UNESCO erecting steel roofs over the bigger churches, so rather diminishing their splendour. However, once you've seen one rock church…We elected to trek to see a monastery constructed in a similar style but as a cave and not a pit. It was about 600 metres above the town and 4-5 kms away. It's perfectly possible to walk there but our special treat was to ride there on mules. I have not been on any form of equine since the trip to Morocco we made before the children were born, so the prospect of mounting this thing and then being led through the town while still getting used to hanging on did not appeal. I had a bad feeling when I met my mount and it seemed to take an instant dislike to me; it needed the two handlers to both have it in a headlock before it would stay still enough for me to get on.However, once into the swing, it became a more pleasant experience. We dismounted on the steeper sections to ease the burden on the mules and to avoid slipping on the rocky path. Stirrups too small to get your feet in properly were another reason to take it steadily. The monastery itself was in many ways more remarkable than the churches; isolated and enveloped by cloud. A congregation had just been worshipping and were gathered outside on a large rocky plateau and in a hut having some food. We were largely ignored while some of the assembly took the opportunity to discuss heatedly a disputed family issue over property mediated by the cleric, according to our guide.We visited the market and were struck by the friendliness of the people and the range of things on offer; from the usual clothes and pots to all sorts of grains and pulses. Leaves we thought might be "chat" turned out to be bitter leaves used as hops for the local beer. Attractive home spun cloth caught our eye as well as herbs and spices; chillies displayed in such quantities that to be downwind of them meant coughing and sneezing. The cattle for sale were not penned or restrained at all, just standing around in groups as if in a field. It helped considerably to have a knowledgeable guide who's home town this was and could help with explanations and bargaining.We asked him if we might find a restaurant by the market in which to have lunch and try the local specialities. It was here we had our first encounter with injera. Injera is the basis of the Ethiopian diet in much the same way that pasta is for the Italians. It is formed from tef, a tiny grain who's parent plant looks like grass. The cereal grows only about a foot tall and is easily swamped by weeds. It's bizarre to see teams of people on their knees weeding a field the size of a football pitch by hand. How they don't do more harm by trampling on it I'm not sure. The weeds removed are not wasted; they get fed to the cattle.Injera comes in the form of a giant pancake and is served on a metal tray about 2 feet in diameter entirely covered by the injera. The accompanying meats and sauces are usually already on it. Injera is about 5mm thick and has one side smooth and one honeycombed. To me it has all the appearance and colour of tripe. Unlike tripe it is easily torn and the pieces used to wrap the meats and sauces. The hand alone is used to convey the package formed to the mouth and altogether makes a pleasant and very filling meal. It's the best food that some of the hotels we stayed at could come up with- offerings felt by them to be more tourist friendly usually looked pretty poor.Aksum, in Tigrai province further north, near the border with Eritrea, is the home of the stelae; upright stones that used to be grave markers but then got out of hand and grew according to the perceived status of the king who was in power at the time; the largest standing in the town is just bigger than Cleopatra's needle. A monster at a reputed 500 tons but 33 metres high still lies shattered where it fell during erection. Perhaps Aksum's powers to seduce failed to work on us because of the guide we had. It should be a town with enormous potential to intrigue and fascinate but his rather hectoring manner and failure to listen to anything that was being asked of him put us off.The journey south to Gonder by road was going to be long and meant an early start. We were met at the hotel at 6.00 by a driver and "assistant" with a Toyota van that had recently been used as a town bus. The combination of the bench seats and the atrocious state of the roads led us to take turns in the only comfortable seat: next to the driver. During the course of the trip we passed a vast assembly of dwellings some shanty with plastic sheet for roofs, some newly constructed from stone but all in a rigid grid pattern. In the midst was at least one securely fenced food distribution point with perpetual lines of refugees, as we found out later, waiting for their turn to be fed.For all it was a refugee camp established to accommodate those who fled from Eritrea, it had shops and bars and video lounges all adding to the feeling of permanence.Before we were due to arrive in Gonder, we were to stay in the Simien Mountains. To get there it was necessary to negotiate some pretty fearsome roads that have been designated in need of upgrading. This means the roads over the many mountain passes are in the throws of radical rebuilding. Traffic mingles with enormous earthmoving equipment; earth and rocks slide down onto lower stretches of road while bulldozers carve new cuttings and embankments higher up. The rains don't help; some stretches of road are entirely made of mud and clay rendered lethal by the water on them. Our bus became mired up one such slope but it was heartening to see everyone pile out of the bus in front to help push us out. It was also the only time the "assistant" woke up and moved out of his seat. It is still the main route for road freight and one lorry and double trailer had become so irretrievably stuck that they were building the road round it rather than try to recover it.The lack of anyone in the driving team who spoke passable English caused us problems. The journey throughout the morning did not seem to have scheduled anywhere to stop for a pee. Since we had been on the road since 6, by 11:30 I for one was getting considerably stressed. As I have already alluded, you can't go a kilometre without the presence of herds and their attendant groups of boys. All these boys have it fixed in their minds that foreigners equate with money or sweets so as soon as they get wind of our presence they home in unerringly. I was becoming more and more focussed on the road ahead assessing it's suitability as somewhere to stop; tree cover, near or far from a village and above all freedom from herds and boys. You know how it is; a likely spot is discounted in favour of a better one round the corner and all the while the bladder clock ticks away. It was within our powers to say "Stop!" at any time but without being able to explain why or to be able easily to abort the halt because of the sudden appearance of people posed its own problems. In the end I just trusted to luck on a mountain road and after stop was called the driver and assistant also tumbled out equally desperate. Even then we could hear boys coming closer but there are times when you can't rush things and this was one of them. After we returned an indignant Melissa said"What about me?" Her complaint was entirely justifiable and I didn't envy the tirade she gave the driver for his lack of consideration. We were lucky to find a modest hotel in the next village that catered to her needs.The Simien Mountains are havens for wildlife in particular the gelada baboons that live on grass found on top of the cliffs and use the same cliffs as shelter at night. It's high, more than 3000mtrs and it's cold especially when the clouds fail to clear the peaks and hang clammy late in the day.It wasn't until the next morning when the cloud had cleared we were able to find the baboons and unlike those met in game parks that are inclined to be aggressive and bad tempered these were eminently approachable and practically oblivious of us. You can see from Melissa's photographs what fine specimens they are especially the males. We could have stayed all day watching them but they kept on the move and we had to complete the journey to Gonder.