We left Addis on Friday morning at about 5:30. Stereotypically, the seven hour journey took fourteen. But it was well worth it. We were heading to Arbaminch, south of the capital. There is a national park there and several lakes Chamo and Abayo. But more on that later.
The journey from the capital took us into a even higher elevation before we dropped into the Rift Valley. The roads were great, certainly better than any in Kenya, most in Mexico and sorry to say Kentucky or Missouri. For the length of the 500 km journey there was never a moment that there were not people visible on the sides of the road. The Ethiopian highlands are a very fertile area, exporting food to the rest of Africa during the reign of Haile Sellasie. The drought of 1984 and the starvation which ensued was probably as much the fault of the government's inability to distribute food throughout the country.
We passed through three distinct tribal areas, Guragie, Kembata, and Wolayta, each with their own style of dress and huts. The first area the Guragie was interesting as the huts were asymmetrical, made of mud and waddle, with high thatched roofs. The compounds always consisted of several structures. There always seemed to be one topped more intricately that the others. This stayed consistent the whole journey. At one point, in another tribal region the huts took on a more square shape, reflected both in the walls and roof. And finally, an area of round huts with less pitch to the roof, indicating less rainfall.
The agricultural variety was amazing: maize, potatoes, sweet potatoes, bananas, a non-fruiting banana with a thick trunk (the inside of the trunk is harvested, wrapped, buried in the ground for a couple of months until formation occurs, then is dried and ground and made into a flat bread, called ocho). The livestock, cows, goats and sheep were ever present but feed from gathered grasses rather than allowed to graze in the open. The steep hills were terraced to maximize production. It was a beautiful landscape. We passed through several larger towns, that showed the inroads of Western influence. It was apparent from the amount of commerce traveling toward the towns that it was a market day. On carts drawn by donkeys, transported on home-made carts resembling wheel barrows, on the back of donkeys (or for the poor folk, the backs of the wife), came cow hides, clay pots, bundles of grass, bananas, bags of all shapes and sizes; cows, sheep and goats, either being herded or pulled to the market. Actually, there was very little motorized conveyance: an occasional bus or minivan and closer to town little three wheeled vehicles which basically are a motor scooter taxi.
We passed two funeral processions. Each very different. In the second area, which was decidedly Muslim, a small group of mainly men were carrying a body, wrapped in a shroud, on a their shoulders. The other was lead by a truck, carrying the body in a casket and the grieving family, followed by hundreds of mourners, all dressed in white.
The highest elevations were plowed and reading for planting. The rainy season begins next month. There were some fields of maize already planted, so if the rains come on time, they will have a head start. Further along they were still working the fields with a plow, drawn by oxen. The plow is a single large pole. Through the front a single wooden bar is inserted, which somehow is attached to the oxen. The plow end has a single or sometimes V shaped branch lashed to the center pole. Lashed to that is the plow blade which is a piece of metal, not much wider or longer than a large butcher knife. Perpendicular to the upright piece which holds the blade is inserted a small wooden rod that acts as a steering device.
As we entered into the Rift, the land changed as did the economy: less farming more grazing. The trees and the birds indicated a drier biome. However, there were bananas, for miles and miles and miles. Mammo (more on him later) said all of the bananas that are sold in Addis come from this area. Mammo, is a former student of the Brothers and because of him, we are there. He now lectures on Water Engineering at the University here. He is very talented (he played the organ today at mass).
We stopped to eat twice along the way. Breakfast at Butajira,the first stop, consisted of omelets. The eggs here are all free range so are darker yellow and have a richer flavor. The omelets were delicious. They had peppers, tomatoes and onions. Some of the kids were busy picking everything out of them without much success. I laughed. I have absolutely no sympathy for spoiled, picky eaters, especially in a country whose name is synonymous with starvation. Hopefully, someday, with maturity they will come to see the irony of their action. We had lunch at Soto. It was the last town on the good road. We stopped at a very nice tourist hotel and while studier transportation was arranged, we ate. John (Dols), Melissa, Maurice and I ordered traditional fare. The others: spaghetti, which has been their staple so far. Some have taken to eating it without sauce: again, no sympathy…and there is not Taco Bell or McDonald's. But they aren't starving or if they are, it is by choice. There was plenty of variety on the menus, ranging from chicken, veal or steak with garlic sauce. The traditional choice included Kifir (raw cubes of beef, marinated in Barbare), a minced beef dish, fried lamb and a dish with dried lamb and shredded injera. It is all served on one big plated on a layer of injera, from which all at the table share. The fried lamb was our favorite, then the lamb in injera, the raw beef and bringing in the rear was the cooked beef. All was excellent.
Taddele felt that the van in which we had been traveling would hold up to the rigors of the last 180 Km. The road, which at one time was black-top has disintegrated into little better than a gravel road. The good news is that the entire length was being worked on under the supervision of either China or Korea. Rock culverts were being laid by construction men and women. There were numerous detours, which really slowed our progress. But there were flag men at every diversion. Mammo met us in Soto with a four wheel drive from the mission, our truck which has been with us since the beginning is also four wheel drive. The van we hired, well, it was hired…I probably would have driven it on the good highway, but it was perfect for the road we were traveling, both the speed and the condition. It was a country van, opposed to a city van.
We arrived at the mission about 7:30. It is run by the Spiritan Fathers, who have been in this area for about forty years. Currently, Father Skinnader is the only priest in residence. He is originally from Ireland, but has been here for nine years, before that Rwanda and before that West Africa. They have numerous buildings, which easily accommodated all of us. The electricity was on when we arrived, it went off about 10:00 pm and has been off every since. We were greeting in our rooms with a variety of small lizards (which eat mosquitoes, so are our friends). Dols had a scorpion. Don't panic, they eat mosquitoes also! The scorpions here are small, like the ones in Missouri, and have a sting no worse than a wasp. It caused a few freak outs, but will make every one more appreciative of what they have when they get home. If it doesn't…send them back.
Saturday:
We spent the main part of the day in the National Park: Nech Sar, which means white grass. The worst roads of Friday were superhighways compared to the roads in the park, which traversed the mountains surrounding the lakes in vertical climbs that could only be negotiated by four-wheel drive vehicles. I learned Minnasotan: "We almost died," translates into we engaged the four-wheel drive! The protected life in suburbia is being challenged hourly! But the rigors of the rode melted away when they spotted their first zebra. We also saw cormorants, marabou storks, Thompson's gazelle, some antelope that looked like a Topi, the much anticipated Dik Dik and millions of butterflies. Our guide said there were 69 varieties of butterfly in the park. The sun here is hot, being only a couple hundred miles north of the equator. So that was hard on everyone, but we remind them to drink lots of water. The shade and breezes are wonderful. I would guess the temperature to be in the mid to high eighties. In the sun it feels much warmer…like 100, but there isn't much humidity.
After the park, we were going to go look at the lake's famous crocodiles, but everyone was too tired, so we had lunch instead at the tourist hotel in town. It had tables set in beautiful gardens, wandering Dik Dik (which look like miniature deer) and a great menu. Fish was recommended, since we are near the lake (and it was good), so many people had fried fish and chips (French fries), but some had steak and others stuck with incredible tenacity to plain spaghetti. I formed a table which enjoyed the Tourist Traditional Menu as well as fried and grilled fish.
After lunch, people went for a stroll, showered toured the town and relaxed. All of us kids went touring around the town and visited with the locals. We talked to some of the locals, played ping pong, and attracted some children who followed us around. While walking home, we formed a huge line of us holding hands and attracted quite a few laughs from the locals. We met some kids who were playing football with their own ball. It was not an actual soccer ball, but they were having fun none the less. All of the children were very inviting and happy to include me into their game. Nigatu one of the children who understood English was happy to help organize some teams and we played for a quite a while. Later he was able to teach me so Amharic phrases such as "how are you?", "what is your name?" and "how old are you?".While I playing in the town, most of the other students went to play soccer with some of the kids behind our church. They brought their own soccer ball and attracted quite a few children. One of the children grabbed the soccer ball and ran away with it, but after retrieving it they had a good time playing in a circle. After playing for a while, they brought out some candy and things became rather violent. They were swarmed by the kids and they began to claw for more candy. Children were taking candy hiding it and then asking for more. Other kids were pushing other out of the way and stealing it from them. In order to get away they waded through the crowd and all had to help push the gate shut. After dinner at the house, Father showed us a video produced as a fundraising piece in Germany. It showcased the many initiatives, such as water projects done by the Spiritans in the area.
Sunday:
Today we had breakfast at 7:30, followed by Mass at 9:00. We celebrated the Mass of the Ascension. Although Mass was in Amharic, it was the Roman Rite, so it was recognizable. All of the music was in Amharic, the Mass was chanted, as is the tradition in the orthodox church. So traditions have mixed a bit. Father read the Gospel in both Amharic and English (Irish!), and preached in English, which was translated into Amharic by Mammo. He finished in a little under an hour.
Then the group was off to the lake see the crocodiles and hippos.
The tour of the crocodiles and hippos was absolutely amazing. It was only a fifteen minute drive to the lake and then we split into two different boats. Our first encounter was an adrenaline rush of awe and fear. We were perhaps 50 ft away from an eighteen foot long, two foot wide crocodile, on a boat perhaps a foot off the water. We also saw hippos from the same distance as well as differing varieties of birds. After the first encounter we traveled around a small peninsula and found another group of crocs, hippos, birds and too our surprise fisherman standing on small rafts pushing themselves along with a large pole. At one point we were able to fit all of them into a single picture. This was rather depressing for me. These fisherman were mere teens who were risking their lives to obtain some food. Our tour guide told us that the fisherman were killed quite often because of the proximity in which they worked with the crocs. At one point our driver turned off our motor and we drifted towards a large group of crocs, one that was easily fifteen feet long was less than twenty feet away from the boat. One of the Minnesota students, Jenny captured some National Geographic worthy photos, and Brother Taddele openly admitted his fear of the crocs.
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