Some lovely Ethiopian women

I’ve written about Ethiopia’s geology, it’s fauna, it’s cultures and its architecture – but no honest visitor to Ethiopia can deny that some of the most beautiful women in the world are found there. Indeed, this was the consensus of every single one of the other tourists I spoke to about this topic. It didn’t matter where they were from, which gender they were or how old they were. They all agreed that Ethiopia is home to many more than its share of stunning women. Some of them have already appeared on these pages. Most of the ones I saw just happened to be walking by, or were in other circumstances where it wasn’t possible to photograph them. Here are some photos I was able to take, but have neglected to post until now:
 
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Female tourists told me that many of the men are handsome too. I did take some portraits of them as well. I’ll start with one of my local guide in Harar, Hailu (next to the window, shown with a friend):
 
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And I’ll finish with Dagi, my driver in much of the north. A fine fellow who had some hard times while I was there. I hope things are better for him now.
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Melka Kunture, Lake Ziway, another rock-hewn church and a fish market

There are many important archeological digs in Ethiopia. One of these sites is Melka Kunture, which we (I was with a British tourist) visited. The site features a museum, which consists of several modest structures and some replica bones.
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We took a boat trip on Lake Ziway, and saw many interesting birds.
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We stopped at an island, and hiked up to a popular church. On the ascent, we passed a hut, and the woman who lived there gave us some homemade injera.
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The injera was on the gritty side, but the woman’s smile made it delicious. Here’s the church:
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I wish I could remember the name of the rock-hewn church we visited. It’s south of Addis Ababa. Perhaps somebody will recognize it and help me out:
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We stopped at a fish market, whose location I also can’t remember:
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At one point, we stopped at a restaurant by the side of the road. When they brought us the menu, it was covered with a multitude of small spiders! I guess you could say that spiders were on the menu. I tried to order several items, but each time they told me they don’t have that item. It appeared that all they actually had was spaghetti – so that’s what I had. I was hungry, so I tried not to think about the spiders.
As we were about to leave, I noticed that they did have one other item available: Raw meat.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c9iZ6DgIedA&w=560&h=315]

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The stelae of Tiya, Lake Shala and the Rift Valley

Almost as soon as I got off the plane, in Addis Ababa, ETT had me embark on a two-day trip to Awasa (also spelled Hawasa) by car. Due to the long flight, I was already very tired, but if I was to see all the things I wanted to see, there was no time to be wasted.
When we did, finally, arrive in Awasa, my room was on the fifth floor, and the elevator wasn’t working. On top of that, there was no water in my room. Not even cold water. A normal tourist would have been outraged, veins popping out of his forehead and waving his arms wildly. Instead, the following morning, I told the staff that if one of them sat down with me and tutored me on reading Amharic, all would be forgiven. I’d like to say that this lesson culminated in my being able to read Amharic well by the end of my trip. But I’m still working on it.
What of the two-day trip itself? I saw many things, so here are a few of them. I’ll follow up with one or two later posts.
Some 50 miles south of Addis Ababa lies the town of Tiya. On the outskirts of Tiya is a collection of monoliths, which is a world heritage site:
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According to my local guide, these are ancient tombstones, and the swords depict the number of enemies killed by the deceased. The guide also claimed that the people who erected these monuments were Semites. He said that this marked the border between the Semitic world and other language groups, such as Omotic and Cushitic.
We visited a large lake called Lake Shala. Near its shores are numerous hot springs, as you can see here:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsLi9Zr3AMM&w=560&h=315]

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhGI1dKFsfI&w=560&h=315]

The lake water is high in sulfur, but nearby villagers have only this water to use. I was told that the discoloration in this boy’s teeth is a result of the sulfur. Feel free to correct me if you know otherwise:

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Here are some views of the Ethiopian Rift Valley:

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The villages of Danakil

Our journey to the salt mines, and Erta Ale volcano, took us through a few villages. My understanding was that these were mixed Tigre/ Afar villages. They are very conservative, and the locals didn’t always appreciate our roaming around shooting photos. Sometimes there was tension in the air, but when one of the tourists, an Israeli, forgot his backpack at one village, it was still there for him days later when we returned. All the contents were intact.
I can’t remember the names of these villages, but here are some samples of the scenes, and people, of this leg of my journey:
It’s very common, in this part of the world, for men (but never for women) to carry a stick, if they’re tending livestock, over their shoulders. If they have a gun, it’s carried in the same fashion, as we see here:
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In one area we stopped in, it’s customary to sharpen one’s teeth, as we see on this girl:
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At one point, when we stopped to rest and take photos, we were accosted by a group of young men begging for bottled water. We were told that they’re road workers, and that their employer gives them water – but that they prefer bottled water. They all had crosses carved into their foreheads. They were more interested in water than in getting their photos taken, so this was the best I could do:
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On the way to Erta Ale, we encountered a dust storm. This is where we stopped, for lunch, during that storm:
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It was miserable, and here’s the “shelter” we used for lunch:
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The village once had a medical clinic, but this is all that’s left of it:
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Here’s a local guide/militiaman at the base of Erta Ale:
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As we passed through vast volcanic areas, we could see isolated huts in the distance. We wondered how they survive in such a harsh environment, and how they get water:
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Lalibela

As in other Ethiopian points of interest, the journey was almost as interesting as the destination itself. Here are some photos I shot on the way to Lalibela:
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Lalibela is famous for its 11 stone-cut churches. I’ll quote Wikipedia:

Lalibela is a town in northern Ethiopia famous for monolithicrock-cut churches. Lalibela is one of Ethiopia’s holiest cities, second only to Aksum, and a center of pilgrimage. Unlike Aksum, the population of Lalibela is almost completely Ethiopian Orthodox Christian. Ethiopia is one of the earliest nations to adopt Christianity in the first half of the fourth century, and its historical roots date to the time of the Apostles.

I was able to visit all of the eleven stone churches in Lalibela; I didn’t have time to visit the ones outside of town. Here are some photos of the churches:
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It’s impressive that these structures were carved out of solid rock without the use of modern machinery. I’m told it took 30 years to built each of these churches.
There are many catacombs among the churches of Lalibela. Most of them have been emptied, but not all of them. Here are some mummies that were left behind; I could have touched them if I’d wanted to:
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It was crowded when I was there; there was some sort of festival going on. At one point, we had to traverse a narrow stone bridge that led into a narrow doorway into the church. This stone bridge had to accommodate two-way traffic – and there was about a 10-foot drop on either side. It was on this bridge, with people squeezed against us on all sides, that we had to somehow remove our shoes, and place them somewhere. Here’s a view of the bridge when it was a bit less crowded, before we used it:

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Across from my hotel were a few gift shops. One of them is owned by a gentleman who claims to be Falasha. I had been wondering if there were any Falashas left in Ethiopia; most all of them had been airlifted to Israel decades ago, so I was overjoyed at having found one. When I told another local man about this, he laughed and said it was just a ploy to gain my friendship and trust – in the hope that I might sponsor him someday to settle in the US or Israel. He said such “tall tales” are commonly told to tourists, and that there are no Falashas in this area. Indeed, they were found mainly in the Aksum area, not Lalibela. But what do I know; I’m just a farenji (white person/tourist). I purchased a manuscript from Serash (the “Falasha”) and I think I got a good deal; it’s a beautiful manuscript, and I paid only $50 for it:
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I wandered about Lalibela with my local guide, and we visited some shops. There are interesting subjects to photograph in some of these shops. This one might have put the “bella” in “Lalibela:”
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Is the U.K. Left turning a new leaf?

Thanks to Diversity Chronicle for sending me the following video:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tb2iFikOwYU&w=560&h=315]

At first blush, Mr. Phillips sounds like a breath of fresh air, when we compare it to the usual drivel we get from the British establishment regarding race. He acknowledges that there’s truth to the various stereotypes about different ethnic groups in Britain. He brings attention to the scandalous whitewashing of the underage grooming crimes in Rotherham, and he even acknowledges the fact that British whites feel marginalized – that it’s almost as if being white is now a crime in Britain.

But in reality, Mr. Phillips says nothing new in this video; most of his proclamations are now common knowledge. It’s upsetting that, while he does a good job illustrating the awful way the authorities reacted to the Rotherham scandal, he neglects to mention that it was the BNP that brought the matter to public attention in the first place. In fact, the BNP is not mentioned even once in the video.

This is probably because the BNP no longer presents a serious political challenge to the ruling parties – but UKIP does. Therefore, Mr. Phillips dedicates a substantial chunk of the last part of his video to making UKIP look bad. This, and the fact that the British media/government allowed this video to air in the first place, tells me that the video is naught but a political move. A pathetic attempt to fool voters into thinking that Labour has turned a new leaf, that they never meant to set up a Stalinist state of fear in the first place. That it was all just an oversight on their part, that they’re sorry and that things will be different in the future.

At the very end, Mr. Phillips even implies that white youth benefit from diversity, because they too might get their turn at having some attention lavished upon them – after the educational establishment is done lavishing attention on all the other groups! How absurd!

The video may be of some use in bringing the uninitiated to an awareness of the excesses of political correctness in Britain, but let us not be fooled by such ploys. Did Labour deliberately overreach, in their campaign of political correctness, just so that they could backtrack later and “reinvent” themselves politically? I wouldn’t put it past them.

Posted in examples of propaganda, freedom of speech issues, immigration/ Hispanics | Tagged , | 9 Comments

The road back to Addis and the "Merkato"

The drive back to Addis Ababa, from Harar, took a long time. It’s only one lane in each direction, and there are a lot of trucks in Ethiopia. One thing I noticed, almost from the beginning, is the shocking number of crashed, and overturned, trucks on Ethiopia’s roads. Scenes such as this are not uncommon:
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On a more positive note, camel caravans and traditional garb are very common in much of the area between Harar and Addis:
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At one point, toward the end of our journey, we had to take a short detour due to roadwork.  The detour was a dirt road, and to our left (downwind) was a hut that was clearly inhabited by a family. The constant truck traffic sent relentless clouds of thick dust directly toward the hut. I couldn’t stand such dust for even a minute; breathing would be difficult, let alone eating, socializing, playing etc. I asked my driver how anybody could live like that. His answer was “you get used to it.” There were plenty of other places to move the hut to; I guess I’ll have to add this to the list of things I’ll never understand.
After a while, we reached the entrance to one of Ethiopia’s finest roads: The expressway to Addis Ababa. it’s a toll road, but well worth the price. Animals, and slow-moving vehicles, are not allowed on this highway. As for quality, signage and upkeep, it’s as good as anything we have in the United States, if not better. Of course, as soon as we got off, we had to contend with the notorious Addis traffic and construction.
Toward the end of my Ethiopian tour, I had the opportunity to visit the largest open-air market in Africa, the famous “Merkato” of Addis Ababa. It’s a rough and tumble place, where men and women sell their wares, and sweat for a living every day. In general, people there don’t like having their photos taken, but this doesn’t mean it can’t be done.
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The pounding of metal, along with the smell of welding and smoke, really adds to the ambiance:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=why-KxSPOFI&w=560&h=315]

Speaking of metal, it’s interesting to see the uses for rebar in the third world. In Gondar, I saw it used on a tombstone:

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The taxi driver who took me to the merkato used it to replace his window handle:

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I concluded my visit to the Merkato by purchasing a fine leather belt for 60 Birr. The man initially wanted 200 Birr, but I didn’t need a belt that badly – so I offered 60 and started to walk away. That’s how great deals are struck in much of the world. 60 Birr is about $2.50. Not bad!

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Harar: At the crossroads of civilizations

There was a communication lapse regarding my drive to Harar, from Addis Ababa, and I was stranded in a God-forsaken area near the coffin market for a couple of hours. It seemed I would not get to Harar in time for the famous hyena feeding. I made it back to my hotel, the fabulous, clean, friendly and reasonably priced Caravan Hotel, and resigned myself to remaining in Addis for the remainder of my trip.
But there are good, responsible, people everywhere on Earth, and Ethiopia is certainly no exception. The owner of ETT, Bisrat, took ownership of the problem – and sent a driver to my hotel to take me, immediately, to the airport; he had bought a business-class ticket, at his own expense, to get me to Harar as promised. To be honest, Harar wasn’t intended to be a highlight of my trip; it was more of an afterthought. But I was touched by this gesture of honesty and goodwill. Incidentally, “Bisrat” means “good news.” In Hebrew, it would be “besura,” and in Arabic “Bushra” (I’m warming up for my Ethiopian language posts).
Actually, Harar has no airport of its own. We landed in Dire Dawa, about 45 minutes away from Harar. The driver, Mohammad, was waiting for me at the airport, and the drive was a pleasant one. Though his English wasn’t the best, he managed to explain everything to me, stopped when requested and drove safely (unlike so many other drivers in Ethiopia). Here’s something I never thought I’d witness in real life:
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I thought this sort of thing was only done in the movies! We passed through Harar’s markets, and saw much chat being sold. Harar is famous for its chat, and it exports the leaves to Djibouti, Sudan, Somalia and Yemen.
When we arrived at the guesthouse where I’d be staying, I met my local guide, Hailu. Every one of my local guides had been excellent, but Hailu was the only one to specifically state that he had no ambition to emigrate to the US or Europe; he feels it’s his duty to remain in Ethiopia and work to improve it. He certainly made my brief visit to Harar as special, and enjoyable, as it could possibly have been. He’s also a fellow cat-lover. Here’s his cat about to get fed:
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Speaking of getting fed, the time was approaching for the hyena-feeding, so off we went to the outskirts of town. Here’s one of the stars of this event:
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And here’s Yousef, one of the hyena men, at work:
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Some crazy guy allowed a hyena to perch atop his shoulders to be fed!
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Oh wait… that’s me. Never mind. Hey eldest daughter, do you recognized that shirt? It was a lot of fun, and I was the only tourist at the time.
Harar is the 4th holy city of Islam, and most of its inhabitants are Muslim. However, Christians live here as well – with no problems as far as I could tell. Traditional dress is not hard to find in Harar, and it reflects a strong Yemenite, and Somali, influence:
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Men can be seen passing their days chewing chat:
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Here’s a banana vendor:
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Camel meat is eaten in Harar, and it can be seen sold at the market:
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Here’s a view of the chat market:
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Harar was founded in medieval times, and the narrow, winding, streets of the old city reflect this:
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They remind me somewhat of Cusco, Peru.
The last emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie, was born near Harar. Here’s a view of the mountains where he was born:
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Notice the “W” shape? It has become symbolic of the emperor himself, and one can see houses with a “W” painted on them. This means the owners are loyalists, and supporters of the late emperor.
As mentioned, Harar is a holy city for Muslims, so it is home to many magnificent Islamic manuscripts, some of which I saw in museums:
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My guide, Hailu, showed me around the vast Harar marketplace, including the second-hand market, where just about anything can be found:
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The old city of Harar is a walled city, and like other walled cities, it has a number of gates. It also has gates specifically for the hyenas:
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As we drove around the old city, I noticed people living in caves:
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I was going to write about the drive back to Addis, from Harar, in this post. But it can wait for tomorrow, or the next day.
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The Simien highlands

Due to altitude sickness, my stay in the Simien highlands was brief. The drive to the base city of Debarq, up winding mountain roads, was both harrowing and beautiful. Here’s a view:
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The road is almost exclusively dirt, but much of it is under construction, in the process of being paved, so we often had to drive around boulders and other debris. Sometimes, we had to wait for bulldozers to clear a path for us to pass. The workers are all Ethiopian, but their bosses, and the engineers, are Chinese. The Chinese are responsible for paving many, if not most, of the roads in Ethiopia – and they’re not doing so out of the goodness of their hearts. From what I could gather, Ethiopians have mixed feelings about the Chinese. On the one hand, they’re grateful for the paved roads, on the other hand, the Chinese are not known for their good manners and humility. Take smoking for example. While in Beijing, it seemed to me that almost everybody (at least the males) smoked, and they’d leave trails of butts and mucus everywhere. In contrast, very few Ethiopians smoke. While waiting for a flight in Addis Ababa, a couple of young Chinese men were sitting in front of me chatting. They weren’t bothering anybody, but the Ethiopians in front of them would periodically glance back at them with what seemed like a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Perhaps they didn’t find Mandarin pleasing to their ears. I think the Ethiopians are right to be wary of the Chinese; Ethiopia suffered immensely under communist rule, and the Chinese are (at least officially) communist. Ethiopia is a poor country, while China is (in comparison) an economic powerhouse.
Here’s the hotel I stayed at while in Debarq:
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Just kidding! I stayed at a finer hotel than that one, and here are some of the employees there:
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On the morning of my departure for the mountains, I took a short stroll through the town, and then hung out at the entrance to my hotel. Some kids came up to me and showed me a few bottle caps they’d collected from the ground. They were playing a game where they stack the bottle caps, and then stand back a few feet and try to hit them with rocks. I joined them in this game for a while, but I wasn’t able to hit the bottle caps even once. I blame the altitude sickness. Some official-looking adults were passing by. I think they were members of the city council, or something like that. When they saw a farenji playing with the kids, they reckoned at least one of them should participate as well. So they sent their most prominent member to play the game – and he hit the caps on his first try! Obviously, he is a great man. I duly congratulated him.
Here are some shots of Debarq and its inhabitants:
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The drive up to the mountains took almost an hour. When we stopped, one or two other groups of tourists were also there. I recognized a British couple I’d shared a car with on my tour of Danakil. Martin and Rose, if you’re reading this, I hope everything’s going well with you in the UK, and that you enjoyed the rest of your trip.
One of our group was 70 years old, and he had no trouble with the hike. But I had to stop and rest every 5 minutes or so; my legs felt like lead and I would run out of breath very quickly. It was embarrassing, as I was holding up the group – and the initial impression was that I was simply in very bad physical shape. Still, I managed to get some decent photographs of the view:
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and of some of the natives:
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and the animals:
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The highlight of this excursion was, of course, the Gelata baboons (more correctly spelled “Jelata”). Here they are carrying on:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYAWuu-4p9U&w=560&h=315]

American biologists would rather call them “monkeys.” Either way, they’re fun to watch, and they have very little fear of humans; I was able to get within 2 or 3 feet of the younger ones.
After that, it was another hour or so to the first camp, where we would spend the night – and clouds were starting to fill the sky. With great difficulty, I was able to make it to camp, though I lagged behind the others. Tents were already set up for us, and I collapsed on the ground inside one of them. Not five minutes later, the heavens opened up and rain poured down. Somebody brought me a mattress, and I was barely even able to find enough energy to maneuver myself on top of it.
A while later, they came to tell me dinner was ready, and I forced myself up to eat. I had no appetite, but the soup was delicious nevertheless. They practically forced me to eat solid food, and then I returned to my tent, where I tossed and turned all night. I ached all over and felt a bit nauseous.
The following morning, it was obvious I could go no further; I was convinced I’d contracted malaria. Ten days earlier, I’d been to Hawasa, which is a malaria region, and I had not taken my anti-malarial medication. Ten days is the incubation period for malaria and all the symptoms were there. I felt too cold in the shade and too hot in the sun, and I had to get off that mountain. The tour operators tried, for hours, to get somebody to stop and take me back to Debarq. I felt like I would die if I had to stay on the mountain one more night. Finally, a truck driver agreed to take me – for $50! I told him I’d pay him 500 Birr. Still way too much, but I was in no position to refuse the ride either. The truck was just like the large truck shown here:
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It was not a comfortable ride. At least they put me in front. I was crunched up against other passengers and the ride was very bumpy. There were no seat belts for passengers, though the driver had one. The driver seemed to go out of his way to get as close to the ledge as possible, all the while chatting on his cell phone. We passed groups of Gelata baboons, but I was in no position to take photos. My plan was to stop at the Simien Mountain tourist office and call for help from there. But when we got there, after about an hour, the office was closed. I was forced to hire a tuktuk (a miniature 3-wheeled taxi) to the bus station. From there I took a minivan to Gondar. This wasn’t a pleasant journey either. It was crowded, nobody spoke any English, and the guy next to me kept shamelessly begging me for money.
When we arrived in Gondar, I had to hire yet another tuktuk to take me to my hotel. I felt better almost immediately, and an ETT driver came by to meet me soon thereafter. He told me that they’d been following me the whole way from Simien, trying to catch up with me in order to help. He took me to a nearby clinic, called “The Zebu Clinic.” They did a blood test and determined that I did not have malaria. Back at the hotel, the staff asked if I’d seen zebus in the Simien highlands. I answered, “No, but I did see the Zebu Clinic!”

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Bahir Dar and Lake Tana, source of the Blue Nile

Ethiopia is landlocked, but Lake Tana is large enough to be considered, by locals, a sea in its own right. Hence the name of the city that adjoins it: “Bahir Dar.” “Bahr” means “sea” in Arabic, and “dar” means “dwelling.” Some locals told me that “dar” means “next to” in Amharic, but I didn’t find it in my English-Amharic dictionary. Few Ethiopians, even Muslims, speak Arabic. Amharic speakers are, as a rule, unable to pronounce the gutturals so characteristic of other Semitic languages (such as the voiced “h” in “Bahr”) so it ends up sounding something like “Bar-dar”).
When we first arrived in Bahir Dar, we stopped to get something to eat and I noticed a “chat” (“khat” or “qat” in Arabic) shop across the street:
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I’d been meaning to try some “chat” while in Ethiopia; it would be my second time, since I once tried some in Israel. I also wanted to get a better shot of the attractive, tattooed, lady, so I purchased some, and got a better shot of the shopkeeper as well:
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Like many Ethiopian women, she sports traditional tattoos on her face, and I never tired of seeing them – or of photographing them. The chat had a somewhat sweet flavor, but I didn’t chew enough of it to experience any kind of psychological effect. My driver had been suffering from a stomach ailment, so we stopped at a local drug store. It was early afternoon, and the clock on the wall was correct:
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Ethiopians count their hours from sunrise (what we would call 6:00) so 7:00 Ethiopian time would be 1:00 in the afternoon our time.
After checking into a hotel, my first order of business was a visit to the Blue Nile Falls, which is almost an hour outside of town. The drive was like many others in Ethiopia: Over dirt roads and through poverty-stricken villages. Upon reaching the end of the road, and the entrance to the park, I took a small boat to a footpath that led to the falls. On the way, locals sold their wares. Notice the larger coin the top woman is wearing around her neck. These “Maria Theresa Thalers” are used as jewelry all over Ethiopia. At one time, they were the common currency; I bought one of those later, on an island in Lake Tana for 350 Birr (about $18):
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[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKv9J12fIhw&w=560&h=315]

I ended up buying that self same flute.  Here’s a view of the waterfall:
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I was hoping to swim in Lake Tana, but other tourists warned me against swimming in African fresh water; I could end up with nasty parasites or worse. Instead, the next day, I joined a motorboat cruise on the lake. Almost immediately, we saw the reed fishing boats (called “tankwas”), whose design probably hasn’t changed for thousands of years, being used:
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Then we spotted some monitor lizards on a nearby rock:
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Hippos also occupy Lake Tana, and we got to see some of them too:
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There are several islands, and peninsulas, in Lake Tana, and we stopped at three of them. Apparently, each island features its own church or monastery. Each one has an admission fee of 100 Birr.  Here is a photo inside one of the churches I actually entered. I think it was Ura Kidane Mihret on the Zege Peninsula:
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Somebody else has written a much more comprehensive post about these churches. Check it out here. One monk caught my attention:
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When I showed his photo to my local guide, Abebaw, he told me that the man was a soldier under the notorious Mengistu, the “Butcher of Addis.” I’m sure he had much on his conscience – or perhaps he has many enemies. Maybe both.
After Lake Tana, Abebaw took me on a very nice tour of the Bahir Dar marketplace and some highlights of the city. I think this is a good place to praise Abebaw, and the drivers/guides of ETT in general. Though I won’t discuss prices on this blog, after shopping around, it became clear that Ethiotraveltours (ETT) provided the best value, by far, for the money. The owner, Bisrat, is a very friendly guy. Both he, and his staff, take great pride in what they do.

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