dorze, ethiopia

As you will have all seen from instagram, Toni and I were down south for a couple weeks in May. It was glorious - my favourite part of Ethiopia so far. The people were wonderful, everything was a bit more relaxed - less tourists than the historic northern route! And the scenery was to die for. I had to share some more pictures. Do indulge me! 

This was the view from where we stayed at Dorze, that mountain-top collection of villages we went to. We looked down onto two massive crocodile-and-hippo-filled lakes. The air was so clean and clear - ah! Heaven.

Morning sunrise.

Our home!!

As I said on Instagram, this is the region where all the weavers are from - so when you're walking all around the mountain, people are working in various stages of creating the thread, stretching the thread, weaving... all against this gorgeous natural backdrop.

Potato field! And Toni and Getu - Getu was from Dorze, showed us everything - taught us a bit of Dorzinha (local tongue), introduced us to residents and farmers. He made the experience so much better. If any of you come to Ethiopia - go local as much as possible. So much better! (Let us know and we'll set you up ;)

Because Dorze is at almost 3000 meters, the whole place is literally in the clouds. Walking around up there is just surreal and utterly serene.

I had to include this to illustrate what NOT to do when you want to help "develop" a country. This is an evangelical church built by World Vision in Chencha, a town 10km from Dorze. The "Christian" NGO came in and told locals they would help them with income generating opportunities - mostly giving out apple trees for people to sell the fruit (we're buying some apples right now from this lady). The catch was, to receive the aid, you had to convert to evangelical Christianity. The result? A select group of people have made tons of money by selling apples across the Ethiopian market, while those who stuck to their own Orthodox Christianity are left with nothing - no benefit whatsoever. People in Dorze for example are extremely fond of their Orthodox faith, and refused to convert. So they've received no development aid. You're punishing people for their belief, and creating artificial haves and have-nots. It was so so so frustrating to see it in person. Gah! I get so angry again just writing this. Poverty IS extreme in Ethiopia - but this is not not not the right way to "help."

Last shot - happier note! Here's one of the shops set up on the side of the road to sell the locally woven goods. Gorgeous, no? (I bought out nearly the whole place :)

we are here:

Where that red marker is - the small town of Jinka, in the Southern Nations, Nationalities, and People's Region (SNNPR) of Ethiopia. Seventeen different ethnic groups live here, "together in love" as a local friend told me :) The region is so different from mainstream "habesha" Ethiopia, from the geography to the cultures. It's breathtakingly beautiful - you can only arrive overland, and our bus ride was stunning. Gorgeous mountains and valleys covered with positively fluorescent green trees. It's hard to describe accurately, and I'm afraid the bus we were on was crowded to the hilt, and thus pictures were difficult to get :) Will try better on the way back.

I'm here for my research, and Toni kindly came along as my protector. (ha!) I'm trying to see how healthcare systems developed in these more "remote" areas of the country. The whole region was virtually handed over to foreign missionaries by Haile Selassie, so I had been in touch with some older doctors and midwives from the Norwegian Lutheran Mission. They very kindly offered Toni and I to stay at their compound in Jinka adjacent the mission hospital (now government-run). How insane to stay at a mission hospital in the backwoods of Ethiopia, am I right? I admit our lives really are crazy.

That being said, this compound is amazing. The flat we're in is gorgeous, with a screened in porch, surrounded by mango, banana, and papaya trees - with our own kitchen, running (hot!) water - the works! It's such a lush spot, we're incredibly contented.... I pinch myself how well Toni and I have been treated all over the world by friends and friends of friends. We've met the most interesting people, I feel I've done a rubbish job at returning the hospitality. Maybe when we have a real house (or at least more than 1 room apartment) someday..?

No matter what, I'm consistently in awe of how vast the world is, how diverse the people are and the lives they live. I feel like we'll come back from Ethiopia still reeling from what we've seen. Absurd really to think we could write PhDs on this place and be some kind of "expert." ha. The truth is we really have no idea. Maybe that's what I should write? Over and over again for 100,000 words: I have no idea. :)

loves from the deep south
jooj.

Igzhabier ymesgin!!**

By heaven, just when you think you know a place! The most remarkable thing happened this last week:

Toni was mugged by a band of street kids last Wednesday. A group of them surrounded him and very deftly pickpocketed his backpack, where he had a wallet with 300 Ethiopian birr (about $15), plus his passport and Ethiopian residence card. (He doesn't usually carry his passport - he had an appointment at the German Embassy that day). We cursed our luck, went to the police, made a report, and started the process of replacing them.

Then! Then! Yesterday evening, our friend Mekdes called to say the police had called her asking if she knew a "Toni Johannes," and that they had his passport. Wha?! Toni arrived at the designated police station this morning, and there it was - his complete wallet, everything intact (aside from the 300 birr of course). A policeman found it lying on the sidewalk way across town from where Toni was mugged. Miraculously, he searched through it, found an old SIM card of Toni's that he put in his own phone, found Mekdes' number, and called her.

Did you ever hear the story of my car being stolen in Washington DC? I filed a police report, of course, but 3 weeks later - no car. We got the insurance pay-out, and then! The next day, a woman called - the car had been abandoned outside her house for 3 weeks. About a mile from where it had been stolen. She had called the police multiple times to report it. It had a dozen parking tickets on it. She finally just opened the thing (of course it was unlocked), found my name and number, and called me up. I called the police to tell them they're complete idiots and the car had been there for a month, reported again and again back to them, and then! Then the best part - the day after I called the police, they call me and say "good news! We found your car!" C'mon.

The point is, that was a full car. This was just a wallet with some random foreigners' IDs in it. They didn't have to go to all that trouble to trace it back to us - and how bout those street kids? They could have done something else with it all besides leaving it clearly for someone to find and potentially return it back to it's owner. They just wanted the money to buy food or khat. (While seemingly a pittance, 300 birr would be about a good month's salary for a street worker/labourer.) And the police did all this without asking for anything, no bribes or gifts or anything. I'm honestly amazed.

You see Ethiopia can sometimes be a really really hard place to live. "Ferenji" (foreigners) stand out like crazy, and sometimes you can really feel unwelcome and as one friend remarked, the "subject of aggressive curiosity." Ha. I won't go into more specifics, but needless to say it can feel depressing, and it's easy to ask what on earth we're doing here? Wouldn't everyone be better off on their own?

But that's not the full story, of course. We have also been welcomed so warmly by so many others. So much of my work is going home to home to talk to old women, and they are kinder than anything. I love that. And then when you think that this whole country is inordinately opaque, that we'll never understand it or feel 'a part,' then the police - notoriously corrupt or inept elsewhere! (hello, DC!) - go and surprise us with their excellent work and honesty. Sheesh.

**Praise be to God!

celebrating 2 (fast! joyous!) years highland Amhara style

After two days in Lalibela town, Toni and I hiked up to the flat top of that mountain you see there. Toni hefted my bag too, but the mule man above hefted most of it. Seriously tough dude. We should have paid him more...!

Views on the way up were spectacular - this is the sister mountain. There's a monastery on top of it, but only 15-18 year old boys (monks-in-training) live there. Hard to imagine it being super serenely monastic with those kinds of residents, no? :)

We used the main foot highway passing through loads of hamlets and farms used by all villagers up to 50 km this direction from Lalibela - notice the women laden down with goods + donkeys loaded up. What we call 'hiking' or 'exercise' is what they call 'everyday life.' Honestly. If you could see how they all live! Our lives are so cushy I can't even say.

Letting some cows go past. It's a very busy road!

And this is what you see when you get to the top of the mountain - the first traditional homes (called 'tukul') of this little lodge called Hudad, where we stayed for 3 nights!

There's our tukul, with our only water source in the foreground. The place blends in to the local surrounds, so no power, no running water... the way the vast majority of Ethiopians live.

Hello! Toni taking in the morning air, viewed from the luxe inside of our tukul. Because it's 3,300 m high and on an open plateau, the nights were frigid and windy. So they supplied us with sweaters and hats made by local monks. Super warm and cozy! I lived in mine.

View from our tukul. Gah!

This is right at the entrance to the plateau, looking into the mountain - it was Saturday and the main market day in Lalibela town. All these people are going home from the market carting their goods - they can walk 2-3 days each way to get there, as Lalibela is the closest town and market option available. And there are hardly any roads through this rugged terrain. We wonder why 90% of women in Ethiopia give birth at home, unattended? Think of how spread out everyone is, clamouring for whatever land they can get to grow their crops and secure some sort of living. 85% of the economy is agriculture, and land is scarce with 80+ million people. So every inch of these mountains is claimed and tilled, even up to 3500m.

View from the top.

The lodge we stayed at has just 4 tukuls, and a little cooking area where local women cook DELISH food over an open fire. Here we're making injera, the typical bread (see the domed, roundish pan shape?)

There was a copy of John Steinbeck's complete short novels at the lodge - some previous traveller left it. Score! I read through three of them. 'The Pearl' felt particularly apropos. I kept thinking of you, Leslie - knowing you love Steinbeck!

Squinty but happy. Yay for being married! Can't believe how the time has flown. This is our 3rd country and 3rd continent to call home since getting hitched. Mad, no? So happy I found someone who will do this all with me. It's heaps better together.

lalibela!

We got a last-minute 5am ride to Lalibela from Bahir Dar in this guy's truck. The landscape between was stunning, loads of craggy mountains and farms, farms, and more farms. The road was quite decent except for the last 70 km on dirt/gravel, and you're having to slow down all the time because of wayward cows, donkeys, sheep, etc. It is farmland, after all!

Our car needed a tire change - lots of gravel roads! Meet our fellow traveller: this super nice American dude (from Ventura!) who has been backpacking straight for 7 years. !!!

Lalibela! We made it in the evening, then were at the churches 7:30 am the next morning. This is how you enter the first complex (there are 3 main complexes, all connected by underground tunnels and passageways). The church pictured is by far the largest of all 12 in Lalibela, and the largest monolithic church anywhere in the world. Look at it! All carved direct down into the stone sometime between the 11th-13th centuries by King Lalibela (thus the town's name). You can see that honking lip of stone to the right, between the two main courtyards. Locals say it took 25 years to carve them all with the help of angels. Archeologists say 125 years, with up to 40,000 people. Ai ai ai.

The stone is a very pretty pinkish red, contrasted best by all of the priests and locals walking around draped in the typical Ethiopian white gabi.

One of the many carved passageways - madness!

There we are looking so cute in front of another of the churches, Bet Maryam (dedicated to Mary): the most popular with worshipers. These massive metal pillars are used to support new roofs built by UNESCO to protect the churches from erosion. Ethiopia gets 3 straight months of heavy rains, and the ceilings are starting to show it!

The inside of Medhane Alem church (again - all carved into the mountain! c'mon!). Priests in the middle chanting - gorgeously surreal. The whole thing is more transportive than most anything I've ever done.

Mary's church again - priests are ALSO chanting outside as well. To become an Orthodox priest, you have to memorise loads of holy books of the Bible, and the way they do it is through sing-chanting en masse.

Me in one of the caverns between 2 churches. Gorge - in both senses of the word.

Bet Giorgis is the only church that hasn't been covered by UNESCO roofs because it's drainage system is quite good - you can see the gutters on the roof! So it makes for perhaps the most impressive of all the clusters. It's incredibly precise, and seriously too beautiful to creep up on as you walk through the town.

There we are again on the lip of Giorgis - the guide we had was super rad, and also a stellar photographer! :)

Man reading the Bible in the door to some of the monk's homes.

The yellow gabi is for a monk or hermit in training. He's also carrying what looks like a thermos of tej, the local honey beer.

This church they think was originally carved as King Lalibela's palace. Check out how deep it is!

I loved this one - only partially monolithic as the mountain was still attached to the roof, but it was carved all around, and of course inside. But it was so pink! Like a Sadie or Stella church :)

This last picture is from a cliff 3 hours' hike from Lalibela where we visited the very first carved church, Ashete Maryam (I instagrammed it!). These priests live in these homes carved direct into the rock behind them to the left - you can see steps entering in. Mind you it's about 3000m+ too! It's just such an amazing place. None of these pictures can capture it fully!

there's much more than instagram can say!

Toni and I have been traveling across the historic northern route in Ethiopia the last weeks - as evident from instagram feed - and it has been incredibly interesting, eye-opening, and all around gorgeous. I can't limit sharing to instagram! There's too much - and I want it documented for posterity.

First I'll blog about our first stop, Bahir Dar and Lake Tana. This is the lake with loads of medieval monasteries clustered about the shorelines and islands.

We were actually there for work - we are still doing research for our phds and all that! Here's the proof: Toni on his laptop, in this cool house we stayed in before we were booted out to live behind a (loud) restaurant without running water. Such is life! No biggie.

When we were on the lake, this utter flotilla of the local papyrus boats came towards us - you can see them dotted along into the horizon. They were all filled with wood - destination Bahir Dar or the monasteries or both. Super surreal!

Toni looking pensive in our boat - passing island monasteries and more papyrus boats.

 

You walk from the shore through wild coffee groves (the short trees) and Acacias (the big trees). Gorg.

Exterior of the monastery - looks quite "plain" from the outside. Toni taking off his shoes to go in.

The first layer of the monastery once you enter, representing the Holy Spirit - the next level in is Jesus Christ, and last the Holy of Holies is Heavenly Father. The Ethiopian Orthodox Church believes the Trinity are 3 separate beings. Neat, eh?

 

This is what you see when you walk in - amazing! The paintings circle all round the Holy of Holies, which only priests and monks are allowed into. They keep a replica of the Ark of the Covenant in each one - the real one of course is in Axum, Northern Ethiopia :)

The doors were almost the coolest part - huge and from one solid piece of wood. Original from the 15th century. !!!

One of the monks at another monastery we visited showing the various 800+ year old books and crosses (and menorah!) of visiting Kings. Rad.

...next stop Lalibela...!

being laughed at in Bahir Dar

Look Mom! An Ethiopian Annunciation on our bedside lamp :)

Hello dear all!

Toni and I travelled north from Addis early this morning, landing ourselves in Bahir Dar, a sleepy little town on the edge of Lake Tana, which happens to be one of the principle sources of the Nile. Toni's here for a conference, and I've hitched myself along because

a) 3 weeks apart when I was in Nigeria was just no fun
b) Lake Tana has a number of medieval island monasteries to explore - RAD!

In the meantime I'm writing up my report from Nigeria work - I was there hired by Save the Children to do interviews all round the country in hopes of identifying barriers to scaling up health interventions for mothers and infants, i.e. why with all the resources and potential Nigeria has are maternal and infant mortality rates so shockingly high. Leslie has kindly offered to edit this beast of a report (thanks, sis!), so if you want more information you can ask her in a couple weeks when I send it over :)

Otherwise, Toni and I explored Bahir Dar a bit today on foot, and were laughed at heartily for our "betam tinnis Amarinya." You see, very very few non-Ethiopians speak Amharic, and Ethiopians are absolutely taken aback when you can understand what they're saying about you, or ask a question/respond in Amharic. Especially outside of Addis, where there are fewer and fewer foreigners, it just becomes hilarious to people to hear us attempt the local tongue! It is admittedly quite funny because our accents are atrocious, and we're not nearly fluent enough to actually have a decent, complex conversation. The laughter is more a gesture of endearment than anything else, but still, it's a bit disconcerting to have people erupt in giggles at everything you say, no?

In other news, we're staying at this lovely little house which operates 2 rooms as a B&B. We were originally booked in for just 2 nights, and then had to go to another hotel for the rest of the week we're here because there wasn't vacancy at the B&B. We happened upon our other hotel on our walkabout, and they miraculously have NO idea what happened to our reservation, and because this massive conference going on, every other hotel in town is absolutely booked out. But alas! Ethiopian hospitality rescues us! The woman who owns the hotel has a brother who has a restaurant with rooms in the back, and they've offered us to stay there, essentially in their family home, for about $4 a night. Private room with proper bed and all. So kind! And staying with an Ethiopian family = leaps and bounds better than a boring hotel anyway. Maybe our Amharic will improve enough to where people stop mocking us... or maybe not :)

Toni and I are trekking for a month around Northern Ethiopia - will drop in with some more posts every now and then, because the history and grandeur here is out of this world. This country! I tell you. Wish you could all visit.... bewalha?

loves,
jooj.

excuse the random soapbox, and hello again

“It used to be about doing something, not being someone.”

This was a quote I lifted from the movie “The Iron Lady,” from Meryl-Streep-as-Margaret-Thatcher’s mouth. I bought a pirated copy of the movie off the street for a buck the other day, because we had never seen it, despite living in Thatcher-land last year. (Oh the Brits would hate me for calling it that!) In any case, I really really liked this quote (movie = meh), said in the context of women’s “roles”… whether it was invented by the screenwriter or said from old Maggie herself.

You see, when you live in a developing nation with very-much-touch-and-go internet connection, the times I actually do happen online and connect with the rest of the world, I’m so grateful for instagram and blogs and all the rest that remind me of what everyone out there is DOing… but I also see so many people who seem to have become sucked into this malicious appearance-based world of projecting who you are, via the clothes you wear and size of your body and food you eat and cuteness of your kids, and that so much that is posted up there is only about crafting a self-image, not about doing anything productive. What are we all doing? I mean, really doing with our time?

Not that I’ve done much of anything the last two weeks in Addis except pop immodium like candy. (argh digestive tract! Get with the program!) There are some days when all the best laid plans fall through: where my paperwork for various projects are stuck in seemingly-never-ending ethical review processes, where doctors I’ve been working with are momentarily outside the country, when every single interview and meeting I schedule is postponed or cancelled last minute. Blah! So I feel I’ve done a whole lot of nothing the last weeks, just continuing to try and learn Amharic, plus plodding through endless archives and reports… if I stacked everything I’ve read for this PhD in the last 18 months, page to page, I swear it would reach the top of the Empire State Building by now. At least.

My eyes are tired.

Also I’ve been using the time to prepare for my next consultancy gig: I never wrote about Zambia, did I? It was fab. I loved it - I loved the work, loved the team I was working with (THET, an organization that trains key medical specialists in low-resource settings - I designed a monitoring and evaluation strategy for them to use to improve programming over the next 5 years)… and now onto Nigeria to work on a project identifying barriers to government health service delivery for mothers and children. If anyone has been seeing the news of late, we’re now on a count of nearly 20 foreigners killed or kidnapped in northern Nigeria in the last month alone. Half of those were health workers. So… original plans to do work in health clinics of the northern state of Jigawa have been cancelled, and I’ll stick to the main central/southern cities of Abuja and Lagos. A pity, because I know the north of Nigeria is very similar to areas I worked in in Niger back in 2008 - it would have been nice to “go back” in a way, but alas. Another time…

Anyway. Think about that invented(?) Margaret Thatcher quote the next time the world gets you down. In the end it really doesn’t matter at all what organic kale you ate that day, or new patterend frock you wore, or that you’ve lost or gained whatever many pounds. (Fyi, in Ethiopia it’s a GOOD thing to be ‘overweight’ and considered a compliment. Food is a blessing, truly, wherever we live.) Surely we can all get beyond these superficial markers, no? I know we all do a lot more with our days than we can show on the outside. I still wish we focussed on that more, and looked up more to people for what they’re doing than what they’re taking pictures of.

Soapbox done!

I’ll try and post something from Nigeria - to let you know at least my kidnapped-status. j/k :)

Beijos, as ever,

Jooj.

ps this was not said as a guilt-trip, and believe me I really am not doing that much - I took the quote as an inspiration to change myself more than anything!