On the Road Again

11/27/09

I have not had the chance to put my thoughts down in a few days. The American Holiday “Thanksgiving” has past and hopefully you all know how thankful I am for everything in my life.

Two days ago while still in Addis Ababa, I met with sister Carol. She is currently teaching an English class at St. Francis Friary among other things. She is originally from America. She has been a nun for over 25 years she tells me.

We sit and chat for a while about Ethiopia, and America. I come to find out she is trying to prepare a Poetry class for the students in addition to the English classes. In this I can help her.

Abba Daniel made some copies of my “Sound and Sense” Introduction to poetry book with detailed explanations of metaphors, imagery, rhyme, meter, etc… The book also has examples as well as exercises for students. I hope it will help her.

On the 26^th at 5am we left the compound and Addis heading towards Harar. We had two Catholic bishops with us. It was a long journey to Harar. We stopped at four different compounds visiting the Abbas, sisters, and schools set up.

Each place we stopped wanted to serve us tea (shy) or coffee (buna) it is also common to have toasted barley as a snack/treat. Everyone I have met was very nice and hospitable.

Of course the kids all want to say hello and one little boy wanted to hold my hand (which is common to hold hands as a sign of friendship.) In one of the classrooms the women were learning to sew, but most of the classrooms were for elementary through 9^th grade.

Everywhere is drought. There just isn’t enough water for people in Ethiopia. One of the most valuable possessions of the compounds is their water reservoir. They collect water during the wet season to use when there is no water during the dry season (we are currently in the dry season.)

On the way to Harar you will see goats, donkeys, chickens, different types of cows and camels. Since there is such a deficiency of water most people here rely on meat to sustain themselves for food. Hawks and vultures circle the skies.

You will still see crops of maze, tef, eatable greens, and so on. There is an abundance of bananas, oranges, mango and papaya, but since there is no way to preserve these perishables when they are out of season they are out.

Nothing is processed here like in America. Everything is organic and fresh. It has to be there is no source for anything else. No refrigerators or microwaves. Only in the Catholic compounds you will see a stove. Only in a few places can you find dried pasta, or a can of something. People here just don’t have the money to afford such luxuries. Most families don’t even use electricity.

Everything in Ethiopia especially agriculture is the same technology as it’s been for thousands of years. The difference to thousands of years ago and today is that most people in the big cities have a cell phone and maybe a family car if they have any money.

Arab countries, Italians, and the ancient Egyptians have mostly influenced Ethiopia.

The closer to Harar you get the more Chat crops and people carrying chat around. People lying around chewing, and so on. The houses are either square and made of sticks and mud with tin roofs, or round made of sticks, mud, and a straw thatched roof.

All the men have clothes on, most of the women are covered up as well, but a few women you will see without tops. Children mostly have some sort of clothes on but in some of the remote places the younger children were naked as well.

There are lots of mountains. The view is amazing. We must have past maybe four or five accidents on the side of the road. Big trucks turned over with people standing all around. It didn’t look like anyone was hurt but goods were scattered and the trucks twisted and in ruin.

I haven’t exactly had the reaction I expected to get in Ethiopia. I‘m thrilled that most of the people here other than a few, don’t even bat an eyelash. No one is calling out “Frengis” as many of the blogs I read about foreigners visiting described.

We finally arrive at the walls that engulf Harar. The entrance to the Catholic Church we will spend the night at open its gates. “Salaam” and nods are exchanged. Once in the foyer I am shown to my room for the night.

We wash up and have dinner. The Bishop gives a spoonful of something yellow and alcoholic to Worku. He coughs and almost spits it out. The old bishop laughs. He says, “This one is not good anymore. See the sediment at the bottom? I will get another bottle.” He returns with a full bottle and explains that is whiskey he has made himself.

After dinner I am invited to watch TV for a while. How surprised am I to find out that both the bishop and Abba Worku are wrestling fanatics! We were just in time to watch WWE as it is now called.

Watching them so engaged in this sort of American entertainment brings me back to memories of my sister Arielle and myself years ago. We used to love to watch wrestling and then try to wrestle with each other in out living room. Arielle was still in diapers. We would get into costume and everything enacting out scenes we had just watched or making up our own.

After WWE is over, I head to my room and am suddenly in front of a very old nun. She rattles off a long string of Amharic. I say the only words I have learned so far. “Duhna Nuwot?” (Polite way of saying: you are fine?) She says some more in Amharic… I say, “Alguban~um” (I don’t understand.)

She then says, “Italian?” and a long string of words in Italian.

“No, American.” I say.

“Oh!” she smiles and continues to say more things in Amharic and pats my back, smiling before leaving me.(Notice the loud speakers in the windows.)

I return to my room. I sleep. I am awoken by the most disturbing sound. It’s 4:30 in the morning and speakers from the Mosque are blaring prayers. It feels like the room is shaking with the awful declarations. I get up only to record some of this so you believe me. I lay in bed waiting until it finally stops an hour later.After a small breakfast with Buna (coffee) I take a tour of the compound.
(I am shown the water reservoir which has a solar panel system to clean It.) The old nuns (two of them) really hope I will stay with them. With a somewhat wiry grin I tell Worku I am not able to make that type of commitment. I thank them for the offer (which Worku interprets.) and promise I will however see them again…

We pack up the Toyota and head out to Dire Dawa…..

Ethiopia- Addis Ababa

11/20/2009

Axum is the sacred city of the Ethiopians. It is the northern part of Ethiopia. They say it is where human life and civilization began and spread south. 5.7 million years ago is the earliest date to which we find the preservation of human bones. I have seen her bones. They call her…

The name “Lucy” was given by the American anthropologist that found her. He was listening to “Lucy in the sky with diamonds” by the Beatles when she was discovered, thus the name. She is 3.3 million years old. In addition to seeing a replica of “Lucy” (She is currently in Texas.) The Ethiopians call her Dinkinesh (which means, “How wonderful she is.” In Amharic) I have seen the actual bones of a child dating back 4.4 million years ago.

In the Ethiopian national museum located in Addis Ababa I viewed many artifacts dating 500 years or more before Christ. It was there that I also had the chance to see back in time how things were. Many of these items and ways of life are still used today. Technology has only recently reached Ethiopia and can be hard to come by.

The animal symbols of Ethiopia are of the lion and the ram. The colors of the flag are Yellow, green, and red. There are a mix of stories on how the Ethiopians feel about The queen of Sheba and her son (Menelik I), Haile Sellassie, the invasion of the Italians, and the current president. When people meet they say “Salaam” and kiss each other starting from the left cheek to the right cheek and back again to the left cheek sometimes even kissing the hand and then letting it rest on their forehead or third eye.

I am currently staying at the St. Francis Friary. Worku picked me up from the Addis Ababa airport at 2am. I have been here for two days. Everyday at 5am you are awakened by the neighboring Muslims signing in prayer. It is very loud and each mosk seems to be in competition with the other projecting as loud as possible.

During the day you can hear an abundance of children playing, and laughing somewhere. In the evening you again hear the Muslims praying. It is overlapped with traditional Ethiopian music streaming from houses in the community. The city is busy with people. It is true you will see many homeless, abandoned, and broken people with missing or twisted limbs. There are packs of abandoned dogs that roam the streets at night.

Time here is split into day and night. Day is then split into ‘before 6, and after 6.’ (6,6,6,6) It is the Ethiopian year of 2002. Abyssinia is the name before it was known as Ethiopia.

Yesterday Aba (means “father” in Amharic) took us around on a tour of the monastery. He gave explanations and references to what each building was for, the classrooms, the chapel, Dining hall, stables, gardens (there are many hummingbirds), the football field (which when not in use has cows and goats grazing), and the library.

He then with a glow in his eyes asked if I would like to see a hidden room within the library. Of course I agreed. In this room there were tools to bind books. Some of these books were very worn and used. They were books of Ethiopian history and important people, and old newspapers that had been bonded into large books. “This room is not allowed by the students.” He said.

“Only people wishing to go deeper to research their heritage are allowed here, but they must have the persistence and curiosity to ask for more knowledge.” He continued. I mulled over the books for a few minutes as I cannot read or understand Amharic.

The Aba then said, “There is another secret room. This room is even more secret than this and only I have access to it. My eyes widened as his did. “Would you like to see this room?” He questioned.

“Y-yes I would be honored.” I stumbled upon my words. We walked around the corner from where the library was and after looking from side to side entered by key into another room. The room looked like the last room with books stacked high. But there was a door I did not see until the Aba had it open for me to walk through. Again there were tools for binding books on the table.

In a locked glass bookshelf were books bonded in red leather and strings made out of animal skins. There were designs on the covers in Amharic. “Many of Egypt’s manuscripts were lost,” He nods “but we Ethiopians retain copies and originals.” He continues as he unlocks the case. As he pulls out books he tells me of his love for literature, and how he hopes to open a public library for the people of Ethiopia. “It would be an extension of the Friary, but the people would own it.” He explains.

“I have written all the paperwork and the people are very interested. My only restriction is that the people will have to pay the librarian’s salary. It is the only way to make it theirs. The Friary will provide the building and the books, but the people must take some responsibility. This is all I ask and even that has made progress on the library still. We await the community’s response.” Aba explains as he opens one of the books.

“These books,” he makes clear “are handwritten 13th through 15th century manuscripts. He read a passage in Amharic and roughly translates to English. They are gospels, history, and poetry.

(The power has just gone out and everything is quiet. 9:20am CST.)
(Power back on at 9:35am CST.)

There are even hand-pained pictures of saints that are absolutely beautiful. The ink is printed on paper made of animal skin and bounded by string made by animals and red leather coverings with pressed decorations.

I wish I knew the language and could sit for hours reading. Alas, I only have time for a silent prayer of thanks for allowing me to see such a splendor in my life. We leave as we came and head over to the Aba’s office so I can email my family and let them know I made it to Ethiopia safely.

Remembering the flight on my way from England to Ethiopia I talked to a few men on business. One was an older gentleman from England. He worked for an electricity company. He told me what to expect as far as electricity is concerned. “It is not stable and they have many outages.” He told me all good experiences and that he really enjoys the country.

He also told me how he didn’t think the world should allow electricity to everyone as it is in America, the UK and so on. “I think it should only be given at certain times of the day and should cost more.” I disagree. I think it is a privilege to live in a county where I can turn on the lights when I deem it necessary.

Over hearing our conversation another businessman acknowledges me and says, “So you said you’re from Dallas huh?”

“Yes sir” I answered back to which he replied:
“I haven’t been there in years but I am from there too. I used to work for Sam Johnson in the early 90’s. Let me tell you that there are two sides to every story. I’ve been living here for three years. It’s not all good. It’s a third world country you have to understand. People go missing in the night never to be heard from again.” He says in an almost whisper.

His eyes look from side to side as if he is very nervous someone could over hear him and drops his voice down even lower. “You be careful. Keep to yourself. The government is corrupt. It is not good here.” He never told me what he was doing in Ethiopia and I am certain I will never see him again.

11/21/09

Breakfast is jam and white bread. There is also the option of some weird sort of lunchmeat and slices of white cheese. I just drink coffee with a spoon of sugar. Lunch and dinner are usually the same things with maybe one or two extra dishes included at dinner.

Injara (Ethiopian sourdough bread you use also as utensils), something green (greens of some sort), something red (beets?), potatoes with carrots and some sort of spicy pepper, something brown and saucy, either battered fish or some sort of meat, and tomato cucumber salad. There is St. George’s beer that is brewed in Addis Ababa, and red wine made at the Friary. For desert there is always an abundance of green oranges and bananas.

Today we will visit with some nuns and Worku’s brothers that live here in Addis Ababa.

£ngland

My flight was so early I made the decision not to sleep Wednesday night. Caught a taxi at 4am to the airport. I was really sad to leave Barcelona and the new friends I've made.

Finally in England now. Got in yesterday (Thursday, November 12th 2009) Chris and his brother Peter came to pick me up from the airport. They had a nice big sign with my name on it. ;)

Hauled my luggage to Chris's house and met with the other Peter, his wife Alison, and their two sons. Their youngest son is Deaf and has a cochlear implant. They use both sign and talking with him.

I am learning BSL fast. Christopher and I took a walk around the neighborhood and to the ocean. The ocean is very close to the house I'd say a 5 min walk. South End is very nice. The houses are very eloquent. We did our point and sign to learn new signs and i showed Christopher the sign in ASL so we could compare similarities and differences.

There are a few signs that are the same or very close to it. How ever it's they signs that have the same shape but different meanings that throw me off. Especially for example: The sign for "Where" in ASL, is the sign for "What" in BSL. This also goes for the sign "What" in ASL is the sign for "Where" in BSL.

So, Peter and Alison are head of a baptist church and last night we had dinner and met friends of theirs Rachel and Tim. They also have two sons. Their oldest son has cerebralposly. Dinner was great! We had "bangers and mash with old mans ale" sweet sausages, carrots, green beans, mash potatoes, brown gravy, and ale. For desert chocolate cake with berries and tea.

Today went with Rachel to visit a castle (or what's left of it) Hadleigh Castle a stone 13th century keep and bailey fortress, founded by Hubert de Burgh. In the 14th century. Built in 1213 King Edward III remodelled the castle. It over looks mostly farm land, and is now owned by The Salvation Army. Inside the nearby Salvation Army we had coffee and tarts.

We are now back at Rachel's for her son's music therapy while I type out this blog.