My journey to Ethiopia, on my 57th birthday, began at just after midnight on October 25, with a drive from Nizwa to Muscat, Oman. I dressed in an outfit appropriate to Africa, in coral and brown and olive-green: “safari clothes” with a pop of color. No safari was planned, but, oh well. The corduroy of the olive-green jacket would hopefully keep me warm in the cool land of Ethiopia, a land where temperatures hover around 70 degrees Fahrenheit (21 Celsius) every day of the year.
Other colleagues from the University of Nizwa were on this trip, though we were traveling separately. Gail was looking for Armenian connections in Addis Ababa. Talib and Chantal had planned an ambitious trip to far-fetched places in the country. Their itinerary included ten-hour bus rides with their daughter in tow! Chantal’s Jamaican origins led her on a quest to discover the Jamaica-Ethiopia connection based on Emperor Haile Selassie (previously Prince Ras Tafari) and the Rastafarians of Jamaica. Being Muslims, they were both especially interested in Harar, an important center of Islamic scholarship in the 17th and 18th centuries. Here Islam penetrated the Horn of Africa.
We took off at 4:50 a.m., flying for 3 1/2 hours, arriving over Ethiopia in the morning light. The landscape from the air was like a rumpled patchwork quilt of golds and greens: mountains, valleys, plateaus and grids of farmland. I wasn’t expecting this of Ethiopia. Stunning.
First day in Addis Ababa
At the airport, my friend Ed, who was on his second year of duty at the U.S. Embassy in Addis Ababa, was waiting for me. I left my colleagues to follow their own itineraries. It was around 8 a.m. I had a whole day ahead of me in Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia that means “New Flower.”
Ed thought I would be tired, so he didn’t plan to do much on this first day. He suggested I sleep while he went to work. Taking his advice, I slept until about 1:00. Then I puttered around, read my guidebook, drank tea at the patio table, and killed time taking pictures of what was probably a typical Embassy house.
I took a walk in the neighborhood past an Ethiopian school as it was letting out. Dark skinned children in sky blue sweaters swarmed out of the school. I walked through them to a German bakery, where I ordered a cappuccino and a chocolate croissant and sat on the patio.
Once Ed returned from work, we went out to Yod Abyssinia, an authentic Ethiopian restaurant that served foods from the various ethnic groups in the country. The night was cool and crisp, and the neighborhood’s middle class houses stood silently around us, bounded by concrete walls topped with curled barbed wire. Many houses had round-the-clock guards sitting in little guard houses within the gates.
The restaurant was packed with people of every nationality. Especially evident were the Chinese, who apparently had numerous building projects in Ethiopia, including a ring road around Addis Ababa.
We arrived at the restaurant in the middle of song and dance performances. The Oromo, the Tigrigna, Gurage, the Amhara and other Ethiopian ethnic groups’ dances and music were included in the nightly live performance. The performance was energetic and lively and the music had a fun African beat. Some of the dancers moved so fast, their arms and legs looked like a blur.
Yod Abyssinia served more than 35 varieties of local dishes comprising fasting food (made of an array of vegetables) and non-fasting foods (meats). Various type of wat, or stew, from beef and lamb, doro wot (spicy chicken stew, a rare delicacy in Ethiopia), and tibs, roasted meat, were on the menu. All of the stews and sauces were served on injera, a spongy pancake made of a local grain called tef. We ordered a sample of all of the above, as well as messer, a lentil curry made with onions, chilies and various spices, and a kale dish. In addition, we were served up neat rolls of injera that looked like napkin rolls. We tore the injera into pieces and used the bread as a kind of utensil to pick up bites of the various dishes. They were delicious!
It was such a fun evening for my birthday! It made up for my long day of waiting around and doing nothing. The meal was Ed’s treat and when we returned to his house, he served up a piece of banana bread with a candle on it. Luckily I didn’t have trouble blowing out the one candle, which would have been quite pathetic! He gave me a sweet gift of a delicate monkey necklace made of coconut shell that he picked up on a recent trip to Rodrigues Island in Mauritius.
Happy birthday to me in the land of Abyssinia. 
Here is a clip of the live performance if you’d like to watch the Ethiopian dancers in action!
Here’s another:
Lalibela
Friday, October 26: For the second day in a row, I was up early to catch a 7:40 a.m. flight. We left Addis Ababa for Lalibela in the north of Ethiopia. Locals had told us the drive to Lalibela took several days because the roads were not good. Lucky for us, our flight was only an hour.
After getting off the plane, we drove through the countryside to reach Lalibela, passing fields of tef, the grain used to make the spongy Ethiopian bread called injera. We saw the Mesket Escarpment, where multi-day trekking tours could be arranged. Children herded a menagerie of sheep, goats, donkeys and cows along the dusty road, amidst agricultural fields and tukuls, Ethiopian traditional cylindrical huts with cone-shaped roofs. Men, boys, and children carried crops on their heads.
After settling in briefly at the Mountain View Hotel Lalibela, we went out to explore the rock-hewn churches of the town. These churches are important in the history of rock-cut architecture. Though the exact dates they were carved are not certain, most are thought to have been built during the reign of King Lalibela, a member of the Zagwe Dynasty, during the 12th and 13th centuries.
Lalibela was an important place of Ethiopian Christianity, still a place of pilgrimage and devotion. The churches were a UNESCO World Heritage Site. UNESCO had built rather unsightly scaffolding and roofing over many of the churches to protect their interior frescoes from water seepage, a necessary evil.
According to UNESCO, the churches were hewn from the living rock of monolithic blocks. These blocks were further chiseled out, forming doors, windows, columns, various floors, roofs etc. This gigantic work was further completed with an extensive system of drainage ditches, trenches and ceremonial passages, some with openings to hermit caves and catacombs.
Four of the churches were finished as completely free-standing structures, attached to their mother rock only at their bases. The remaining churches ranged from semi-detached to ones whose facades were the only features that had been ‘liberated’ from the rock.
Our guide was Masala, a young Ethiopian man who grew up in the village. He was kind and conveyed so many tidbits of knowledge that I was happy we had him along.
Every time we entered a church, we had to leave our shoes outside. We had a shoe minder who followed us to each of the churches, where he sat outside and “minded” our shoes. He glowed with love and each time, as I struggled with untying and tying my tennis shoes, he helped me put them back on my feet.
We first visited the northern group of churches. Bet Medhane Alem (Savior of the World), was said to be the largest rock-hewn church in the world. Our guide showed us three empty graves in one corner, prepared for Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Cross-shaped panels pierced the walls. This church held the legendary 7kg gold Lalibela cross, but we weren’t afforded a glimpse of it.
After putting our shoes back on, we proceeded through a passageway cut into solid rock to Bet Maryam, possibly the oldest of the Lalibela churches. Bet Maryam was small, but decorated to the hilt with paintings, frescoes, and intricate carvings on the walls and ceilings. The church was dedicated to the Virgin Mary, who was particularly respected in Ethiopia, and was the most popular church among pilgrims.
On the northern wall, we saw what looked like a Nazi swastika, but our guide Masala assured us this symbol went in the opposite direction of the swastika and was in reality an ancient Christian symbol showing that Christ’s love goes out in every direction, to all corners of the earth.
Bet Meskel and Bet Danaghel, a semi-chapel and chapel, sat on either side of Bet Maryam like two dwarf sentinels.
We walked through another passageway cut into solid rock to Bet Mikael, where we came upon a group of men dressed in white, chanting, beating on drums, and burning incense. They were in the midst of a church service which was beyond my understanding. The men seemed suspended in some mystical, ethereal world, dressed as they were and enveloped in a haze of incense smoke and streaming sunlight. We stood, enraptured by them for quite some time, amazed that we happened upon this holy ceremony.
We left the northern group of Lalibela churches and headed through the preserved tukul village known as Hadish Adi. The site was protected so that visitors could see the round thatch-roofed homes inside and out.
As we walked through the village, we caught sight of a column of white-clad worshipers traipsing through the tukul village, probably after attending the chanting service we witnessed at Bet Mikael.
According to a 2010 Mission Report by UNESCO, the traditional housing of Lalibela is characterized by two main types of buildings: the circular one-story tukul houses (ground and one floor), with external staircases leading to the upper level and the rectangular one-story residences (ground and one floor). The walls are built of stone laid in mud mortar. The interior surfaces of the walls are often plastered with a rich mix of earth, straw and cow dung. The earth is mixed with straw from the teff plant (Eragrostis tef) and the mixture is applied to the wall after undergoing necessary processing.
Our guide Masala told us that he grew up with his seven siblings in one of the tukuls; he led us to his childhood home. He happily posed for a photo in front of the house where he “spent the happiest years of his life.”
We found a little open air hut where an artist was painting scrolls in the Lalibela style. I couldn’t help but buy one. I loved the symbolic style and color of these painted scrolls.
While we browsed through the scrolls, a large group of boys surrounded us and asked if we would buy them a football (soccer ball to Americans) for 500 Ethiopian birr (about $28). They said they were a sports team called Team Obama and they really NEEDED a new ball. However, we had been warned not to give children any money in Ethiopia because it only enticed them to stay out of school. Apparently, a common ploy was to ask tourists for soccer balls or school books, which the children might even buy in the tourist’s presence. As soon as the generous victim’s back was turned, the children returned the books or balls to the shopkeeper for cash.
As we walked down the gravelly and dusty hill from the tukul village to the western group of churches, the gravel slipped out from under my feet and I crashed to the ground, my right knee collapsing under me like a jackknife. I couldn’t stop the barrage of unladylike words that sprang out of my mouth. Three years earlier, I had had a partial knee replacement in my right knee, and it seemed whenever I fell, that was the knee that snapped. When I fell today, it hurt like hell! I thought I had seriously damaged it.
Masala and Ed pulled me up. After dusting myself off and shaking it out, I found my limbs appeared to be intact. I was in pain but seemed to be okay. Ethiopia, and especially Lalibela, was not a place where I would want to have a medical emergency!
We continued down the hill to Bet Giyorgis, the most spectacular of all the Lalibela churches. For one, it was perfectly formed in the shape of a Greek cross. It was 15 meters (49 feet) high, carved out of a deep trench, and was the best preserved of the churches. Because it was well-preserved, it lacked the obtrusive and unsightly UNESCO roof and scaffolding that most of the other churches had.
Carved from solid red volcanic rock in the 12th century, it was the most well-known and last built of the eleven churches in the Lalibela area. Legend has it that Ethiopia’s patron saint, Saint George, unexpectedly came to visit King Lalibela on a white horse, just as the King was finishing off his churches. St. George was a little peeved that none of the churches were dedicated to him. King Lalibela immediately sought to make amends by building St. George the most beautiful church of all, Bet Giyorgis, which means Church of Saint George.
Inside were colorful paintings, a priest, and two 800-year-old olive-wood boxes: one was rumored to have been carved by King Lalibela himself and was said to contain a crucifix, made with gold brought from King Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem.
Masala told me I could ask the priest to wave his cross over me for healing. I asked him to do so, and he waved the cross all around my knees, and then all over my body for healing. Ed had him wave the cross over him too, for general back pain. We tipped him several Ethiopian birr.
After lunch at the Mountain View Hotel, we headed out again with Masala to the southeastern group of Lalibela churches. On the way, Masala pointed out The River Jordan and Mount Tabor, named after Jerusalem’s holy sites.
We entered Bet Gabriel-Rufael from the top of the church, walking over a rock-carved bridge that crossed a deep trench. Scholars thought this church might have been a fortified palace for Aksumite royalty in the 7th and 8th centuries. The monumental facade was the most interesting thing about this church.
We made our way through a pitch-black tunnel, which Masala likened to the experience of descending into hell. We emerged into light (likened to heaven) into Bet Merkorios, which some say may have once been the town’s prison. This is because of ankle shackles found within the church. Inside was a fresco representing the three wise men, possibly created in the 15th century.
The freestanding Bet Amanuel was a finely-carved church and may have been the royal family’s private chapel.
Finally, we visited Bet Abba Libanos, a hypogeous church. This meant it was under the earth’s surface. In fact, the church was attached to rock at the top and bottom. Legend said it was built overnight by Lalibela’s wife with the help of a few angels. It seemed to grow sandwiched between slabs of rock.
After leaving the Lalibela churches, we headed back to our rooms, where I took a little nap. Then we went up to the terrace for a bottle of Ethiopian wine: Gonder, produced in Addis Ababa. We ran into some colleagues of Ed’s from the embassy and chatted with them a bit. We sat and enjoyed the sunset and the wine over the beautiful valley of Lalibela. Dinner followed at the Mountain View Hotel, which was not at all memorable.
Lalibela’s Saturday Market
Saturday, October 27: I woke up feeling sick, with severe cramps and a wicked headache, as well as general malaise. I blamed the malaria medication I was taking. At the advice of doctors in Nizwa, I was to begin one medication on Thursday, upon arrival in Ethiopia, which I did. However, on Friday, I was supposed to take another medication, and then switch back on Saturday to the first medication. Whatever they gave me for Friday obviously had some bad side effects, as I woke in the middle of the night feeling horrible.
I couldn’t eat breakfast. As Ed ate a delicious-looking omelet, I just sat and nibbled on some plain toast. He asked if I wanted to skip our visit to the Lalibela Saturday market, but how could I? I loved local markets and I couldn’t bear the thought of missing it. So I told him I wanted to go. We had a flight back to Addis Ababa at 12:45. I would just put one foot in front of the other and visit the market.
The market was spread out over a big dirt area in the middle of the town. The villagers had set up tarps or temporary stalls made of eucalyptus poles and textiles. Some just sat under umbrellas to hide from the sun. Some people spread out their grains, vegetables or textiles on tarps or blankets on the ground. It was hot, dusty and chaotic.
People were selling everything imaginable from firewood to salt blocks. Salt was a precious commodity for people and their animals, and was even used as a kind of currency, according to Lonely Planet Ethiopia & Eritrea. Nomads and their camels, even today, travel to the salt lakes in the Danakil Depression in eastern Ethiopia, where they cut by hand rectangular blocks of salt, known as amole, and then spend weeks traveling by caravan to market, where they barter using the bars.
We saw these salt blocks for sale, along with teff. The low quality teff was dark and course, while the more expensive, high-quality teff was pale and smooth.
Also for sale were dried peppers, cabbages, onions, peas and lentils, whole wheat, collard greens and numerous other grains and greens. We also found traditional clothing, colorful textiles and blankets, live chickens, and long eucalyptus poles used for construction.
People came from miles around, mostly on foot, to the Saturday market. The lucky ones had donkeys to carry their goods, but most people carried their goods on their backs or their heads. It was amazing even after we left the market how we passed hordes of people heading to the market from miles and miles away.
The rest of the day, I felt miserable. We caught our plane to Addis Ababa, but we had to endure an extra hour flight as the plane made a stop in Gonder. When we arrived back in Addis, I took a bath and a long nap. I decided to stop taking the malaria medication. I would take my chances. The next day, we would head to Lake Langano, about three hours south of Addis by car. I didn’t want to be sick for that trip!
Drive to Lake Langano
Sunday, October 28: We woke up early for our 3-hour drive to Lake Langano, south of Addis Ababa. I felt better, after being sick all day yesterday. I think it was because I discontinued that malaria medicine and it was finally clearing out of my system.
Once we escaped the crowds, dirt, and poverty that swarmed around us in Addis, we emerged into beautiful countryside full of acacia trees, tukul huts that rose naturally out of the land, and undulating hills in a patchwork of greens and golds. I fell in love with Africa.
After about two hours, we passed through an area that was more dry and arid than the first 2/3 of the drive. It was not nearly so pretty here, but it still had its charms, with the locals, dressed in mismatched colorful clothing, in continual motion along the dusty roads. Many of them were burdened with some kind of load, carrying firewood or sacks of grain on their heads or backs.
When finally turned off to Bishangari Lodge, the eco-lodge where we would stay, we had a very rough drive over a bumpy dirt track for about 15 kilometers. It was slow going, but this was where we saw rural Ethiopians prodding their livestock along, sitting outside their tukul huts, or just playing in the dirt. We also passed cool trees, cacti, flowers and birds. We even saw a goat having a bit of lunch up on a fallen tree.
Lake Langano
It turned out that Lake Langano would be my favorite part of Ethiopia.
Sunday, October 28: We stayed for 2 nights at the Bishangari Eco-Lodge at Lake Langano, Ethiopia. Here, we explored the wetlands, the beach and lake, the forest, an otherworldly pumice rock landscape and an acacia shrub zone replete with birds, horses and baboons. We ate the Menus of the Day, posted before each meal with curlicue writing on bark signs. We went birdwatching in the dewy forest as the sun rose, encountering multitudes of birds, Colobus monkeys, and baboons, as well as children walking to school with books in their arms. We got relaxing oily massages. We walked along the beach and then swung in hammocks beside the lake. We sat on the porch of our cabin and perused bird books, jotting down the birds we identified. We took a hippo-spotting hike where we didn’t spot any hippos, but we encountered a simultaneous sunset and moon rise over the wetlands in a glowing blue light. We watched the staff while the hours away playing checkers using bottle caps. And at the end of each day, we shared Gonder Ethiopian wine at the lovely Tree House bar with the sounds of birds twittering, chirping, chanting and singing all around us.
The weather was a fabulous 70 degrees Fahrenheit (21 degrees C) during the days. At night I burrowed under blankets and slept like I’d never slept before.
I was amazed by this landscape, especially as the light waned in the afternoon. We walked along the rocky surface, checking out the birds preening and flitting about along the lakeshore: pied kingfishers, spur-winged plovers, Senegal thick-knees, Great cormorants, Nyanza swifts.
Along the lake we wandered. We admired the birds, we stared out over a horizon heavy with gray clouds, we listened to the choppy waves hit the shore. We took pictures. Ed, being a veteran bird-watcher, knew his birds and educated me as to what was what. He pointed out a Great cormorant, a Senegal thick-knee and some spur-winged plovers.
After our afternoon of exploring the pumice stone area, the beach, and the lakeshore, we headed to the Tree House bar where we shared a bottle of Gonder Ethiopian red wine. We toasted to our safe arrival at the lake. We ate a dinner of mushroom soup, black olive salad, pan-fried fish served with French fries, vegetables and pasta, and a crepe Suzette for dessert. Cicadas chirped in the background, a musical serenade.
Monday, October 29: This morning we woke up before dawn to go on a guided birdwatching stroll. While waiting for our guide near the lodge dining area, wild horses grazed near the lodge dining area.
Once our guide arrived, we spent two hours traipsing in the acacia zone by the lake and then through the forest. We crossed a big open field, and then wandered along the fringes of the forest. Yellow-fronted parrots flitted about in trees near the lake.
In the forest, we marveled at the huge gnarled ficus trees, and as we walked out into the open field, we come across a group of baboons romping around and grooming each other. We nearly stumbled into a hole dug by an aardvark, and up in the trees, we spotted three black & white Colobus monkeys watching us like spies.
A line of children dressed in colorful mismatched clothing, books under their arms, passed by us in the field on their way to school. One elderly gentleman accompanied his children on horseback.
We found scores of different birds. Most of them I wasn’t able to capture on film. Blue-breasted bee eaters flitted about on some bushes. Greater blue-eared starlings hopped about in the field. A red-headed weaver industriously built a nest.
Later, as we had breakfast at the lodge, Ed identified all the birds we saw on the walk: speckled pigeons, lemon doves, African paradise flycatchers, white-rumped babblers, Grey-headed bush shrikes, fork-tailed drongos, red-checked cordon bleu, white-throated seed eaters, African dusty flycatchers, Eurasian hoopoes, common red starts. And many more elusive little birds with colorful names.
After our morning of birdwatching, we each had an hour-long massage in the massage hut. It was wonderfully relaxing, except for the deep tissue kneading the masseuse did on my calves. They felt bruised and beaten after all was said and done.
After our massages, we took another walk along the lakeshore, where we saw a couple of scary-looking birds that appeared to be right out of some prehistoric age, Abyssinian ground hornbills, and they didn’t seem frightened of us at all. They just strutted their stuff confidently under the acacia trees and across the pumice rock.
A yellow-billed stork sat quietly on the lakeshore and a companionable little group of spur-winged plovers and Senegal thick-knees relaxed on the pumice stones.
This was the first time I had ever done any birdwatching, and I found it quite fascinating, especially as Ed knew his birds and had a book about birds of Ethiopia. I loved being out in nature at this place along Lake Langano.
In the evening, we went with our guide on a hippo-spotting walk. Sadly, we didn’t see any hippos. However, we did see a beautiful marshland, glowing acacia trees growing out of a pumice moonscape, and a simultaneous sunset and moonrise. All this while we were enveloped by beautiful blue light and a cool gentle breeze.
acacia trees at Lake Langano
acacia trees at Lake Langano
Tuesday, October 30: This morning, we packed up for our return trip to Addis Ababa. We ate a breakfast of omelets: Ed had an Ethiopian Omelet with tomato, onion, & chili, and I had an Omelet a la Bishangari, with mango, pineapple, banana and sugar. I was surprised it had more of a savory flavor than sweet. We drank fresh papaya juice and coffee. It was our last day here and I was sad to leave.
We took one last walk along the lake edge to check out the shorebirds. The day was crisp and breezy; the clouds were in fine form in a hazy blue sky. Ed was hesitant to cross outside of the fenced-in area of Bishangari Lodge, but I figured we went there last night and it was perfectly fine, so why not? He was afraid we’d be harassed by the locals for money or handouts. I wasn’t worried because I knew how to say no and how to ignore people who harass me. I was determined to cross no matter what he decided to do. In the end, he came along.
Our adventurous foray was richly rewarded. We saw speckled pigeons, little egrets, white and gray pelicans, cormorants, and ducks. They allowed us to approach them without flying away. We lingered for a long time, creeping silently closer. Finally, after most of them leisurely swam or flew away, showing no fear of us at all, we made our way back to the lodge. We met an olive baboon and strolled under more amazing ficus trees. Then we headed back on the road to Addis Ababa.
In the evening, when we returned to Addis Ababa, we ate a meal that Ed’s housekeeper / cook Kitay had prepared for us: injera, wat, cabbage & potatoes, lentils. We topped it off with some Montrouge Merlot. Later, Ed showed me pictures on his computer, but when I wanted to show him pictures of my time in Greece, he wasn’t really interested.
As there was really nothing to do in the evening, he suggested we watch a movie. Just as he was about to put it on, he said he needed to make a business call to the U.S. I waited. And waited. Finally I went upstairs to my room, and I heard him chatting away on Skype to his sons. He was heading back to the U.S. on Saturday, and today was Tuesday, so I figured the conversation would be short. It wasn’t. As a matter of fact, I gave up and got in my bed to read, telling him I was no longer interested in watching the movie. This was one time I wished I had the numbers of my colleagues from Oman so I could join them somewhere in Addis for some fun.
Addis Ababa
Wednesday, October 31: We got up at 6:00 a.m. so we could leave bright and early for the U.S. Embassy. Ed needed to do some work before we took off for sightseeing, so he brought me along to twiddle my thumbs and wait…and wait. From the embassy, after nearly two hours of waiting, we headed directly into the Entoto Mountains.
The Entoto Mountains, north of Addis Ababa, were the site of Emperor Menelik’s former capital. We admired the sprawling view of the city below. We passed donkeys carrying loads of eucalyptus, which the locals had cut branch by branch off the trees on the mountain, leading to soil erosion and deterioration of the forest. Some donkeys carried grass to sell to the locals who spread grass over their mud floors when they had guests. Women trudged up and down the mountain carrying loads of firewood on their backs. Apparently aid organizations were trying to find these women other means of livelihood, but it was obvious many women were still dependent upon this work.
Near the top of the mountain, we stopped at St. Raguel & Elias Historical Church. Inside the church were multitudes of brightly colored paintings that told bizarre stories. We saw paintings, as we did in every Ethiopian church, of St. George, the patron saint of the country. We saw the apostles meeting gruesome deaths. We saw the devil looking quite devilish. Ethiopia’s Christian stories are rich in legend, and these legends are told pictorially in these paintings. We found a saint who prayed for 7 years; though one of his legs had fallen off, he did have 6 wings. We saw Doubting Thomas. We saw a large painting of the miracles of Christ: here he healed a blind man, there he turned water into wine, and here he raised Lazarus from the dead.
After we drove down from the Entoto Mountains, we headed for lunch at the Lucy Gazebo Restaurant, attached to the National Museum of Ethiopia.
The outdoor Lucy Gazebo Restaurant was lush with tropical plants, decorative sculptures and Ethiopian art. I started with carrot soup and then ate a delicious chicken avocado pizza with tomatoes, peppers, mushrooms and cheese.
Next door, the National Museum of Ethiopia housed one of the most important collections in sub-Saharan Africa, according to Lonely Planet Ethiopia & Eritrea. The paleontology exhibit on the basement level showcased the extinct sabre-toothed cat Homotherium and the huge savannah pig Notochoerus.
The most interesting things were the two amazing casts of the 3.2 million year-old Lucy, a fossilized hominid discovered in 1974. One lay prone in a glass case and the other was standing. Her small frame was a reminder of how small our ancestors were.
Lucy was discovered in a dried-up lake near Hadar in northeast Ethiopia. This new species, called A. afarensis walked on two legs, which overturned earlier theories that our ancestors only started walking upright after they evolved larger brains.
According to one of the museum’s curators, the real bones, which were normally preserved in the museum’s archives, were currently on tour in the USA. Lucy’s tour began at the Houston Museum of Natural History; after Houston, she would travel to Seattle, Boston and back to Houston. Lucy’s pilgrimage was designed to let the international community know Ethiopia’s importance to the history of humans.
When I walked into the basement, one of the museum’s curators was opening the glass case that contained the casts of Lucy’s prone bones. He took one of the finger bones and handed it over to a group of young men who wanted to borrow it. This group was making a film showing primates’ connection to humans through Lucy and they wanted to borrow the cast finger bone for their documentary. This seemed quite crazy to me, as I could not imagine a curator at any museum in the USA taking out a piece of an exhibit and handing it over to someone to “borrow!”
The center of the ground floor of the museum showcased a collection of royal paraphernalia including Emperor Haile Selassie’s enormous carved wooden throne. On the walls of this central area were paintings of Ethiopia’s rulers, including Emperor Menelik, Emperor Yohannes, and of course Haile Selassie. Surprisingly, among these emperors was a painting of Colonel Mengistu Haile Mariam, the leader of the horrible Derg (Committee) that deposed Haile Selassie in 1974. Their destructive rule, including the Red Terror, lasted until 1991.
On the first floor, what we in America call the 2nd floor, was a colorful display of Ethiopian art ranging from early parchment to 20th century canvas oil paintings by modern artists, including Afewerk Tekle’s African Heritage.
Finally, on the top floor, we found a secular arts and crafts collection, including traditional clothing, weapons, jewelry, utensils and musical instruments.
The ornate Holy Trinity Cathedral is believed to be the second most important place of worship in Ethiopia, after the Old Church of Saint Mary of Zion in Aksum, according to Lonely Planet Ethiopia & Eritrea. It also contained the huge Aksumite-style granite tombs of Emperor Haile Selassie and his wife, Empress Menen Asfaw.
The cathedral was a mixture of international styles and boasted a copper dome, slender pinnacles and interesting statues. Inside were some grand murals, rich stained glass windows and two imperial thrones of ebony, ivory and marble. In one of the large murals, Emperor Haile Selassie stood in front of the League of Nations asking for help against the Italian occupiers. They refused to help, except for Mexico, which became a long-lasting friend of Ethiopia.
In a cemetery surrounding the Cathedral were the remains of ministers who were killed by the Derg in 1974. Other remains include patriots who died fighting the Italian occupation from 1935 to 1941. Italy invaded Ethiopia in 1935, killing 275,000 Ethiopians with illegal mustard gas and bombing. In 1936, they captured Addis Ababa, and Emperor Haile Selassie fled the country. At that time the King of Italy was made Emperor of Ethiopia. Ethiopian patriots played a major role before, during and after the liberation campaign, which ended in May of 1941, when the emperor and his men took over Addis Ababa.
After our explorations of Addis, we headed back to Ed’s house where we relaxed a bit. Later, we went to an excellent French-ish restaurant called Loti. The restaurant had a lovely ambiance, with pressed leaves and dried flowers decorating the walls, a colorful poinsettia and artsy plates. We had some red wine and munched on crackers made of oats, barley and sesame seeds, dipped in a delicious guacamole dip. I ordered tilapia assay: tilapia with cabbage, peppers, tomatoes, carrots and potatoes. For dessert, we indulged on pumpkin pie with ice cream.
The owner, Mani, walked around to greet all the patrons. She told us she studied in the U.S. on a USAID scholarship and she was proud of her education. She had created a beautiful restaurant and was rightfully proud of her achievement.
Thursday, November 1: On my last day in Addis, Ed had to work at the embassy all day. He arranged with his guard to have a friend of his drive me around all day for around $35. The guide, whose name I’ve now forgotten, was such an easy-going and likeable guy, I ended up having a great time.
He began by taking me to the Makush Art Gallery. I was determined to buy a piece of Ethiopian art. The day before, while I was twiddling my thumbs at the embassy, someone told me this was the place to go. I found out very quickly that Makush was an upscale gallery and the prices were quite high. This trip hadn’t cost me much money and I still had $200 left in my budget. I ended up spending all of it on two pieces from this gallery.
After tossing my two paintings into the back seat, we drove through the streets of Addis, teeming with dusty and obviously poor residents wearing colorful but mismatched clothes. The streets were dirty and slightly chaotic. Corrugated tin stalls lined up along every street; people were trying to eke out a space to make a living. It seemed there was no rhyme or reason to the layout of this city. There seemed to be no center of town. It was urban sprawl everywhere.
We arrived at the octagonal St. George Cathedral, conceived to commemorate the 1896 defeat of the Italians in Adwa. It was commissioned by Emperor Menelik and was dedicated to Ethiopia’s patron saint, St. George. With the help of Armenian, Greek and Indian artists, the cathedral was completed in 1911. Its neoclassical style contrasted sharply with the colorful murals inside.
We drove to the Ethnological Museum, set in Haile Selassie’s former palace, and surrounded by the lush grounds of Addis Ababa University. Right outside the entrance to the museum was a spiral staircase that led to nowhere. The Italians placed one step here for every year that Mussolini held power, beginning from his march to Rome in 1922. The symbol of the Ethiopian monarchy, a Lion of Judah, sat atop the stairs, a symbol of the eventual defeat of the Italians by Ethiopia.
Ethiopian artifacts and handicrafts were displayed in the order of the human life cycle, beginning with Childhood with themes of birth, games and rites of passage, followed by Adult themes of beliefs, traditional medicine, war, hunting and even pilgrimages. Death and Beyond showcased burial structures and tombs.
Also preserved intact in the museum were Haile Selassie’s bedroom, bathroom and changing room. On the 2nd floor was some amazing religious art, especially diptychs, triptychs, icons and crosses. In another cave-like room sat a collection of musical instruments, put in the dark to preserve them from the ravages of light and to showcase them in an ethereal way.
We ate lunch at the Lime Tree Restaurant. After lunch, my guide convinced me to try wheat grass juice. It didn’t sound very appealing to me, but he assured me it would improve my health considerably. I tried it and was surprised to find it was actually quite delicious. And I had to say, I felt much better for the rest of the day, and throughout my long overnight trip back to Muscat.
*October 25-November 1, 2012*
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“ON RETURNING HOME” INVITATION: I invite you to write a post on your own blog about returning home from one particular destination or, alternately, from a long journey encompassing many stops. How do you linger over your wanderings and create something from them? How have you changed? Did the place live up to its hype, or was it disappointing? Feel free to address any aspect of your journey and how it influences you upon your return. If you don’t have a blog, I invite you to write in the comments.
For some ideas on this, you can check out the original post about this subject: on returning home.
Include the link in the comments below by Sunday, August 2 at 1:00 p.m. EST. When I write my post in response to this challenge on Monday, August 3, I’ll include your links in that post.
This will be an ongoing invitation on the first Monday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time.
the ~ wander.essence ~ community
I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired!
- Indra, of TravTrails, wrote about returning home from Cyprus in August of 2000:
Thanks to all of you who shared posts on the “returning home” invitation.
