Welcome to Ethiopia!

Today I travelled from Cairo to Lalibela, Ethiopia.  Haven’t heard of it?  Well, neither had I until recently when my friend Natasha was telling me about these monolithic rock-hewn churches in northern rural Ethiopia when I was contemplating a layover in Addis Ababa.  Naturally this piqued my interest, so I decided to make a little side trip.  A wonderful coincidence is that today happens to be Christmas day in the orthodox church, so I get to be here for all of the festivals and merriment that accompanies the holiday.

Before I could do that, first I had to get to Lalibela, which turned out to be no easy task.  After a (surprisingly decent) meal at Cairo’s version of the Bates Motel, I again went to the airport to catch another redeye flight  This time I left at 11 pm and arrived in Addis Ababa at 3 am.  Yes, 3 am.  The Ethiopian lady in the seat next to me let out a noise when we landed that sounded like a high pitched “le le le le le” made in the back of her throat, which sounded similar to how I imagine an Apache war cry to sound.  I assumed it meant she was happy the plane didn’t crash.

I then had a 4-hour layover until my connecting flights to Gondar and then Lalibela.  I had been hoping that Ethiopian Air would have a lounge or something where I could spend those 4 hours, so I stopped at the airline transfer desk prior to getting to customs to ask.  Keep in mind that it’s about 3:30 am at this point.  The guy behind the counter was chatting up a storm with a male African passenger, who was telling him all about his fiancée in Bangkok and how he got her pregnant.  No joke.  I stand there for 10 minutes listening to stories about this guy’s sex life, egged on by questions from the airline employee before the employee acknowledges my presence and asks if I need anything.  No, mister, I just like standing in a non-existent line in the middle of the night because I really want to know about this guy’s fertility and prowess in the bedroom.  Geesh.  Anyway, after I ask about a business lounge, the employee giggles at me and says no.  He tells me that there are some comfortable benches in the baggage claim area where I can kill time, and warns me not to walk over to the domestic terminal before the sun rises for safety reasons. 

When it came to customs and immigration, I had to remind myself that I’m not in the first world any more, and that patience is worth its weight in gold here.  For example, at the immigration desk an Italian woman was trying to get a business visa because apparently she’s a teacher and is working at a school in Ethiopia for a month.  When the tourist visa desk tells her that they don’t issue business visas, she throws a hissy fit and starts yelling (in English) that they are causing an international incident and she’s going to make a federal case out of this.  The guy behind the desk clearly doesn’t care about her temper tantrum and instead points her in the direction of the business visa desk.  I don’t know if it’s because she’s Italian, but when I walked by her later at the business desk, she still seemed to be threatening people in an animated way.  My tourist visa is a full page sticker in my passport with handwritten details about my itinerary.  Once completed, they sent my passport to another kiosk window where I was supposed to pay the visa fee.  I can’t help but think that they could drastically improve their efficiency with only a few minor process improvements, but then I remember that it’s 4 am and I don’t really care.  Customs was similarly disorganized. I saw a roped off business class line, and given how long the regular line was, I simply moved the ropes and created my own line.  One of the customs officials looks confused by my brazen moves, asks me something in a foreign language, to which I reply “I’m going to Lalibela” and he just waves me through.  Everyone else had to put their luggage through a security scanner at customs, but not me.  I don’t know if it’s because I’m white or for some other reason that he gave me special treatment, but I wasn’t going to complain.

I finally make it into the arrivals area at around 4:30 am.  I hadn’t really slept on the plane more than an hour because the flight attendant kept waking me up to ask if I was sure that I didn’t want dinner.  For those who know me and my love of/desperate need for sleep, I was feeling a bit like a zombie.  I try to take money out from the ATM, but it keeps telling me to “come back later.”  Awesome.  I’ve managed to find the Magic 8 Ball of ATMs, and it is the only one in the entire airport.  If I shake it really hard do you think it will change its answer?

I now am faced with a decision.  My phone battery is at 20%, but the only place I can find an outlet to charge my phone is in a little corner of the airport with no chairs or benches.  I can choose to nap on one of the benches as was recommended to me, or I can sit on the floor and charge my phone.  I decided I’d rather have a fully charged phone than be marginally more comfortable for the next hour or two, so I opt for the latter.  Given how tired I am, I end up, deciding it might be feasible to actually nap here.  I place my large carryon in the corner so that someone would have to step over me to get to it, and I use my smaller bag as a pillow with the zipper facing me so that no one could sneak up and unzip it while I was sleeping.  With the charging phone in my hand, I pull my sweatshirt hood up around my ears and try to catch a few winks.  After a few minutes go by, a girl who works at the café nearby comes and gives me a piece of cardboard.  The floor was really cold, so though my first reaction was “I really don’t want to lie on cardboard,” it ended up being very helpful. Lying on the cardboard with my stuff around me and a scarf as a blanket, I don’t think I’ve ever looked as homeless as I did last night.   But that’s what adventures are all about, right?  Experiencing new things?

Home sweet home

By the time that I have to make my way over to the domestic terminal, the sun still hasn’t risen yet.  I’m reassured by the increasing number of people milling about and figure that it’s worth the risk to make my flight.  The walk between terminals was indeed sketchy at times, but thankfully it was fairly well patrolled by police.  The domestic terminal is a more run-down version of the international one.  As with many third world airports, they make you go through security before you can even get into the airport.  This one was surprisingly more vigilant than others, asking everyone to remove their shoes at the first security checkpoint.  They let me keep my water bottle though. Various airline employees keep pointing me in the direction of where I’m supposed to go until I get to the departure lounge and see this:

Seriously?  I could have been relaxing here the entire time on a lounge chair built for napping rather than on the remnants of a cardboard box? There were even power outlets next to some of the sleep chairs. 

These guys have the right idea...

By the time boarding begins, the sun is finally rising over Ethiopia.  I walk outside and see the prop plane that will carry me to Lalibela and think about some of my friends who refuse to go in planes without jet engines.  The downside of the prop plane is that my roll-aboard carryon won’t fit in the overhead, so they have to check it for me.  At this point, I haven’t seen any trace of my checked luggage since Heathrow airport, so keep my fingers crossed that at the very least my smaller suitcase will make it to Lalibela.  The plane ride is uneventful besides my discomfort. I ‘m tired, hungry and the guy next to me smells like spiced lamb.  The worst part is that I’m unable to fall asleep because of the bright sunlight permeating the cabin. 

I can't help but think of the Indian Jones fist fight sequence every time I see a prop plane...

Finally, we land in Lalibela (after a stopover in Gondar, where I didn’t have to leave the plane).  I climb down the stairs from the plane and am immediately struck by the beauty of the region.  We appear to be in a valley surrounded by rolling mountains and hills in every direction.  It’s absolutely gorgeous!

I had arranged for a car from my hotel to pick me up from the airport.  Thankfully (and honestly, surprisingly), my bags all made it to Lalibela.  The driver put them on the roof of the car (because where else would they go?), and we set off with a few other Ethiopian women as fellow passengers.  The car ride to the hotel was about 25 kilometers up winding mountain roads, but everywhere I looked I was struck by the beauty and simplicity of my surroundings.  We passed through a lot of farmland where locals live in small, circular thatched roof houses.  The walls of the house appear to be made of a bunch of sticks tightly strung together vertically, and the roofs were made of straw.  Some looked more likely than others to be blown over by the next big bad wolf who comes along, but a few looked positively sturdy.  We passed by people on the road carrying bundles of goods on their heads, carrying walking sticks and herding livestock from one place to another.  The driver told me that because today is Christmas, all of the farmers are headed either to or from the large market in celebration of the holiday. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to grow up here, where you have to walk miles up a mountain to get to a market, and where neither you nor anyone you know has running water or electricity.  It feels like stepping back in time, actually.

Finally we get to my hotel – Hotel Maribela.  

By far the nicest hotel on the block

I’m already a little annoyed at the hotel because they are charging me 4X their normal rates under the guise of it being a “holiday rate,” but I’m pretty sure it’s because I wrote them from a UChicago email address rather than my gmail one.  The other hotels I wrote to were all fully booked,  but they did not hike up their rates for the holiday, but I figure it’s a price I have to pay for booking late.  The hotel turns out to be absolutely lovely.  It’s built into the side of a mountain with absolutely stunning views from my balcony.  I have a large four poster king bed and my own personal hot water heater for the shower.  Given some of the other hotels we drove past, I’m thankful I chose this one.

For some reason this view makes me want to yodel. I won’t though…

My first priority is sleep.  After two nights of basically no sleep, I’m starting to feel sick and cranky, so I give myself permission to take a leisurely nap in place of visiting the churches today.  I have all day tomorrow to visit them, and today they’re likely to be madhouses due to the holiday anyway.  After a glorious nap, I decide to go find the nearest ATM so that I can finally get some Ethiopian cash.  The front desk tells me that it’s about a 20 minute walk away, so I set off.  As I’m walking alone on the path toward town, I think that my mother would not be happy that I’m choosing to walk rather than take a tuk-tuk (Side note: tuk-tuks are here in Ethiopia!  They import them from India apparently – go figure).  According to my rationale, however, the sun is still shining, there are plenty of people on the street, and the front desk guy told me that it’s a safe area.  Of course I’m not going to go wandering around on my own after dark, but I figure it’s fine during the day.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t stick out like a sore thumb, however.  As I’m walking, lots of Ethiopian people shout at me from across the street whenever they see me.  Most are friendly greetings of “hello,” and I quickly realized that the person will keep shouting “hello” until I smile and wave in acknowledgement.  Other attention is less welcome, like the guys who would say “heyyy pretty lady” or “you beautiful – want a boyfriend?”  About 5 minutes into the walk, I subtly slipped my right-hand ring onto my left hand ring finger so that I can pretend to be married. One boy of about 10 even yelled at me “Hey! You’re ugly!”  I think he does this with all white people just to get a reaction from them, so I chose to deny him the pleasure and ignore him instead.

None of these kids called me ugly.  The one on the right may have been making an obscene gesture though - I'm still not sure

One funny sight on the road was a group of goats that were walking quickly and with purpose in the middle of the street.  Something about this group gave me the impression that they knew exactly where they were going and they were late to get there.  Two minutes later, I see another goat practically sprinting up the road making pitiful bleating sounds that I’m quite sure would directly translate to “guysss – wait uppppp! Meeeeeehhhhh!” Apparently I can speak the language of the goats now.

Just some standard traffic in Lalibela...

Everyone seems to be in a very festive mood here.  Kids are playing soccer in the streets with a ball made from cloth.  There are ping pong tables and pool tables set up along the road where other people are playing.  Some people are brewing coffee or tea, sitting on stools on the side of the road and catching up with friends.  Others are dressed in what must be their nicest clothes, clearly walking to or from a religious celebration of one kind or another.  Lalibela is a holy city in the orthodox religion, so thousands of pilgrims have flocked here to celebrate Christmas.  My driver from the airport told me that over 100,000 people are here today, and that most of them arrived on foot from the various corners of Ethiopia.  Even though I’m getting my fair share of stares from men and women alike, I don’t feel unsafe at all.  It’s easy to get caught up in the holiday spirit :)

The walk there and back takes me about an hour, and I settle back into my room to enjoy the sunset and play around with my camera settings.  The sunset was stunning, morphing from subtle and pinks to rich magenta and oranges, and finally ending with earthy yellows and greens.  I don’t think my camera (or rather – my skills as a photographer) did it justice, but I tried my best.

Do you think the goats appreciate the view as much as I do? Next time I speak to them I'll be sure to ask...

(insert opening song from the Lion King soundtrack here)

A little later, I went downstairs to take part in the Christmas celebrations. The guy at the front desk had told me there was a whole program in place with dancing from various areas of Ethiopia, a coffee ceremony, a full Ethiopian buffet meal, a bonfire, and more.  When I get down to the restaurant, it looks practically empty.  There is indeed a large buffet filled with what appear to be different kinds of stewed meats and salads, but no one is there.  There is an American couple eating at one of the tables, but otherwise the place is empty of customers.  I figure I’m not going to leave the hotel at night anyway so I might as well eat, and help myself to some delicious Ethiopian fare.  The traditional Ethiopian spongy bread has never been my favorite, but it goes well with everything else that’s on the table so I dig into it.  Eventually the American couple and I end up chatting – they are very experienced travelers and give me some good tips on places to go in Africa while I’m studying in Cape Town.  Together we speculate that the hotel had prepared this whole celebration but that most of the hotel guests had other plans tonight, which explains the emptiness.  We see the setup for a bonfire outside, but it remains unlit, and we figure that they ended up cancelling the entertainment because no one showed up.  I’m disappointed but also slightly relieved that I have nothing better to do than go to bed early tonight.  I could use a full night’s sleep in a bed.  One part of the celebration that they didn’t cancel, however, was the coffee ceremony. Ethiopia is known for its coffee – apparently coffee originated from here (I’m not sure if that’s true but the American guy seemed pretty confident about his assertion).  They have set up a table with rows of cute little porcelain cups, and a woman starts roasting the beans over some hot coals. The smell is delicious! 

Mmmm just like they do it at Starbucks...

Then she grinds them with a mortar and pestle and puts the powder into some boiling water in a special Ethiopian coffee pot.  The two Americans don’t want to drink any because they are worried about falling asleep, but I know that no amount of caffeine could keep me from a good night’s sleep tonight, so I try a cup.  I’m not a coffee drinker normally – I find it bitter and unappealing.  But wow – if all coffee tasted like this, I would become a regular drinker!  It wasn’t bitter at all, and while it was strong, it wasn’t thick like Turkish coffee (which reminded me of drinking tar).  Seriously, the Ethiopians know how to make some amazing coffee.  I think I won’t be needing any Diet Coke in this country (which is a good thing, because I don’t think they have it here).

I think they were planning on more people drinking coffee than just me...

My day tomorrow is still a bit unplanned, though I'm trying to not let that stress me out. Hakuna Matata and all that. I’m going to go to the rock churches in town for most of the day, and then tomorrow night I plan to make my way to Bahar Dar, which is about 5 hours away.  I’ve heard you can take private mini buses there, which is the easiest way to travel, but the front desk at the hotel doesn’t seem confident that he can find me one that leaves in the evening, so I may end up having to take public transportation.  Apparently safety isn’t an issue, but it will require taking multiple stops along the way and switching buses, which doesn’t exactly sound appealing.  Oh well – at the very least it will be an adventure!  For now, it’s time for bed…