The Churches of Lalibela

August 4, 2020 / Juliana Lightle / 3 Comments

Last night part of 60 Minutes featured these churches. Several years ago I went with friends from Ethiopia to see them. We spent almost an entire day hiking through around and up and down all eleven of them. I decided to travel back a few years and relive my experiences there and share it here.

800 years ago these churches were carved from the top down out of solid stone. They dug a trench deep all around what is now each church and then worked from there. Everything is stone, including the interior columns and spaces.

There are areas around all the churches and drainage canals so they do not flood in the rainy season.

The inside of each church is decorated with carvings, frescoes, and wall hangings.

Because 800 years of wear and tear and especially rain was beginning to take its toll, they covered them several years ago. Now, according the the architect on 60 Minutes, they are experiencing the opposite problem. The stone is getting too dry and contracting. They are teaching local people how to preserve the stone so it will last hundreds more years.

Dino, my Ethiopia friend, and the guide, in white.

Why the ridiculous looking socks? Fleas are a problem. Many of the churches have old carpet on the floors, thousands of people still workshop in them regularly. We were told to spray our ankles, tuck our pants inside out socks, spray our socks. It worked.

And here is probably the most photographed of them from up above. Yes, you do get to climb all the way down there if you want to go inside. We did. The story goes that the king went to Jerusalem and wanted to create an Ethiopian Jerusalem. There is a river nearby which they call the River Jordan. As you tour, they explain every detail and how they match passages and stories from the Biblical Jerusalem. How did they build all of these out of solid stone? With the help of angels.

The World in One Room

January 26, 2020 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Four jaguar heads stare at me,

Mexican, Costa Rican.

A third guards the mantel,

partially hidden in tropical plants,

attack ready, tail raised, jaws open,

teeth bared.

My feet rest on a coffee table

carved in Kashmir. I look at the photo

of the young man whose family made it.

He took me home to meet his mom,

to the floating market.

Once peace reigned there.

Now I wonder if he is safe, alive.

The Hoop Dancer raises his arms,

the Acoma pot exudes ancient

black on white beauty, painted

by the tips of yucca stems.

The Thai Spirit House begs

to appease evil spirits.

I should put food and flowers there;

I never do.

Corn plant of life–for Navaho, Hopi,

me, painted, growing up my wall,

blue and red birds flitting through

the stalks, singing ancient songs.

Corn Maiden rug hanging on the wall;

an Isleta Pueblo girl won a contest

with its design. Four Corn Maiden

Kachinas watch the room.

Corn everywhere–Sacred Corn.

Three Ethiopian crosses, St. George

and the Dragon, Frida Kahlo doll,

Argentinian Madonna, Tohono O’odham

baskets, a painted cow skull, Nigerian carved

wooden elephants, including a Chieftains chair,

the stained glass transom window from the house

where my dad lived from birth to ten.

In a room filled with windows, there

is little room for paintings, yet–

purple bison glide across the prairie,

an Iraqi woman flies through an azure

sky filled with dark blue birds,

a 15th century mystic, Kabir, tells

a tale in poetry, Navaho spirits,

pumas walking toward me–

my obsession.

Rugs scattered–Kerman,

an unknown Persian city, Afghani,

Egyptian, Indian, Zapotec, scraps of old

Turkish rugs sewn together.

In one cabinet, Grandmother’s china,

Mom’s Czech crystal–a wedding present

decades ago, Grandson’s painted art,

the silverware Dad gave Mom on their

first wedding anniversary, Mom’s

everyday dishes–flowers blooming.

I use them every day.

These objects–a testament to who I am:

World wanderer, seeker, citizen.

SAM_0912

SAM_0035

Ethiopian Journey–Ancient Churches of Lalibela

July 18, 2016July 18, 2016 / Juliana Lightle / 2 Comments

In the 12th century the king of Ethiopia decided to build a New Jerusalem. Eleven churches were carved out of solid rock on the mountain top in the village of Lalibela. A UNESCO World Heritage site, these churches remain intact and in use.

They were all carved from the rock top of the mountain down into the earth so that they remain invisible unless the person is only a few feet away. This protected them from the vision of potential invaders, usually Muslims from what is now Sudan. The above is probably the most photographed of these churches and stands separate from the others.

My friend is standing near where the stairs lead down to the bottom where visitors and worshippers can enter the church. Visiting all these churches in one day is not an activity for the faint of heart or for one terrified of heights.

This is the first church we visited. It still mystifies many as to how such incredibly intricate structures could me carved by hand out of solid stone. Even these columns are carved out of the rock. The “official” Ethiopian Orthodox Christian story relates how angels helped the builders.

This and most of the other churches are connected by “waterways” where in the rainy season a sophisticated system of drainage keeps all of them from flooding and makes it possible for visitors and worshippers to walk along from church to church.

Everything in the Christian churches in Ethiopia symbolizes something related back to Jerusalem and the Bible. Even though the guide explained it all in detail, keeping up with all the symbolism proved a daunting task. Notice the swastikas. They are ancient symbols of the eternal circle of life and death. Hitler turned them backwards and into a totally different meaning. There are also many different styles of crosses there, two of which can be seen in the windows of this church.

This is a fertility pool. In the past a priest got in the water–it is very deep–with a woman who could not conceive and bless her in the water. At one point when it began to fill too much, they cleaned out the bottom and found many treasures buried there, apparently dumped into the pool to protect them from enemy invaders.

The inside of the churches are intricately carved and sometimes painted.

Two types of basalt exist on this mountain, soft and hard. Churches carved out of the soft basalt have begun to deteriorate and as a consequence are covered. As can be seen here, people still come to these churches to pray and attend services.

Our guide lead us from church to church through these narrow passageways which are, as previously mentioned, used to drain water away from them in the rainy season. If Ethiopia had a national color, it would be white. It is not only worn to go to church and for religious purposes but in daily life as well. It mystifies me as to how they keep whites so very white.

The slit dug in the rock is part of the system of drainage. The grass in the foreground grows out of a pool of holy water. While we were there, a boy filled a plastic bottle with the water and left.

St. George and the dragon are everywhere, not only in churches but also on beer. He is the patron saint of the country, symbolizing the triumph of Christianity over paganism as symbolized by the dragon.

The carving in many of the churches reveal a sophisticated knowledge of how to work in stone. It is difficult to believe that this was carved by hand downward into solid basalt centuries ago.

The road to Lalibela is rather daunting, climbing higher and higher with no guard rails, nothing. As you can see from this photo, patchwork quilt fields cover even the mountainsides.

To learn more about Lalibela, see detailed information and explanations of their River Jordan and other religious symbolism, go to my blog posts from August 2014.

Ethiopian Journey–From Addis Ababa to Debre Birhan

July 8, 2016 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Addis is the second highest capital in the world. Only La Paz, Bolivia, is higher. To a large extent, altitude determines climate in Ethiopia. Addis and the surrounding area, much of which is high altitude farmland, receives a lot of rain this time of year and looks totally unlike what a lot of people think of when they hear the word Ethiopia–not desert but rather miles and miles of green.

We had not driven far from Addis when we crossed a river, an area of which is considered healing. Many people had come for priests to bless them and to experience the healing power of the water.

I saw only three tractors in ten days of criss crossing farmland. Why so few? One reason is rocks. Many of the fields remain rather full of rocks in spite of many having been removed.

Therefore, they farm the “old fashioned” way; horses or cattle pulling plows with a human behind.

Houses in the villages in the farming areas demonstrate old ways alongside new.

Winnowing the way we did in the USA a century ago.

Much of the farmland is a picturesque patchwork quilt of browns and greens.

Before dropping down to lower country, we drove by Menelik’s Window. The drop off here is steep and far. I did not go near it–I had not yet become used to the endless drop-offs or even realized that I would need to do so. This is one of four places in Ethiopian where you can see gelada baboons. They are extinct elsewhere. Menelik was an Ethiopian emperor. This “window” allows one to look from the high country for miles and miles to the landscape beyond.

The large tufts of grass provide food for the gelada which are grass eating herbivores, the last of the grass eating primates. All others are extinct. This same grass is used by the locals for roofing material so boys stay in these areas all day chasing off the baboons.

To keep themselves busy they weave woolen baskets and hats to sell which they display in the grass.

This ten year old boy happily donned the hat he had made. I bought it for my grandson who was the same age when I took the trip.

Except for the different vegetation, driving down the mountain looked a lot like driving through Colorado.

Down from the mountain the landscape appears quite different and considerably drier. We drove through several smaller towns on our way to Debre Birhan where we stayed the first night.

Driving in Ethiopia requires navigating around animals. Everyone drives their cattle, camels, horses, all livestock down the road whenever possible. The roads are generally very good. Many, built by the Italians, have stood the test of decades.

Along the road we saw many of these “apples”. My friend told us how they played with them as a child. However, the adults all warned the children not to touch their eyes when they did–it will make you blind. They are called Apples of Sodom–so many things in Ethiopia have symbolic meaning.

These fruit could be seen all along the road and even on the road. After driving through this drier area we rose above a huge valley with miles and miles of grass.

A semi-nomadic group brings their immense herds of cattle here in the rainy season to graze. When we drove further on above the valley, I saw the first tractor working a field as big as this grazing land.

My Ethiopian Adventure–On the Road to Lalibela, Part Two

July 9, 2015July 9, 2015 / Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

My Ethiopian Adventure–On the Road to Lalibela, Part Two.

To continue my revisiting the Ethiopian trip from last July, I am reblogging this section, day two on the road to Lalibela. This photo shows the interior of a small farmhouse we visited. Click the green title to see the rest of the photos.

The Highest Bar in Africa

April 22, 2015April 22, 2015 / Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

We sat around the fire

ALL of us

on The Roof of Africa,

the sign stating

“The Highest Bar in Africa”

at 3,260 meters.

We sat around the fire

All of us,

the British owner gone,

forbids natives to sit

with tourists.

We sat around the fire

ALL of us.

Shades of brown, black, cream,

peach, humanity.

I, for one, grateful for

the owner’s absence.

Whose country is it anyway?

My Ideal Audience

March 6, 2015 / Juliana Lightle / 3 Comments

The fourth assignment in my newest experiment, Word Press’ Blogging 101 class, is to write a post for my ideal audience. My immediate reaction was, “There is no such person; I do not have an ideal audience.” I might be able to come up with three or four persons, some of whom might like the recipes, others might enjoy the travel posts, and another group might react to comments on the environment, international politics, and sundry controversial topics. Finally, a few, perhaps more, might relish the occasional poetry pieces. After all, my haiku posts attained more readers than I ever expected. The challenge then might be to write a post combining several of these but how? Here we go on another adventure.

My idea reader would enjoy literature, especially the serious and more especially literature from other countries and cultures, like to eat hot foot from diverse cultures, travel to other places besides here and Europe, care about the environment, follow international politics, and, even though not previously mentioned, like horses, prefer the country to the city, and enjoy a wide variety of music. Do such individuals exist? Where are they and how do I find them?

Here is my first attempt at covering at least two of these topics:

Last summer, as former followers know, I traveled with friends to Ethiopia for three weeks via Dubai. Because I love the stuff, I brought back an entire kilo of berbere. Mine follows the special recipe of my Ethiopian friend’s mother. She had it made special just so we could bring it home. Actually there were three kilos in my bag but only one for me. My new favorite salmon recipe involves the use of berbere. Unlike some, hers is more rich and spicy rather than really hot. This will serve one to two, just increase the amount of all the ingredients to suit the number of people you plan to feed.

1-2 portions wild sockeye salmon–you could use any type of course

4 medium to large brussel sprouts, coarsely chopped

1/2 purple onion chopped coarsely

Several broccoli florets

1/2 ripe bell pepper, seeded and chopped

Olive oil

Berbere

Cover the bottom of a skillet with olive oil. Add onions and sauté until translucent. Add the brussel sprouts and sauté until nearly tender. Add the peppers and broccoli. Sprinkle a light layer of berbere over all the vegetables as you cook them. Stir occasionally. Add the salmon, skin side down. Sprinkle berbere over the salmon so the salmon is covered but only lightly. You can add more to taste. Continue cooking until the salmon flakes.

I serve this with rice. The rice in the photo is basmati. See previous posts for the special way I cook rice. Sometimes I vary the vegetables using poblano peppers, carrots, Swiss chard–whatever I happen to have or feel like eating at the moment. Pick what you like.

This, honestly, is nothing like real Ethiopian food in part because I do not have teff and do not know how to make injera. The photo below shows me and friends in a restaurant in Gonder, Ethiopia, in my idea of food heaven.

My Ethiopian Adventure–Final Days

January 5, 2015January 5, 2015 / Juliana Lightle / 2 Comments

It took me a while to post this because I did not want the adventure to end. Of course, it will never end in my heart and mind. Nevertheless, this last post about my three week adventure brings a feeling of termination I have apparently attempted to avoid. I spent the last few days of my trip, staying with my friend’s parents in Adama. They took me on the wonderful adventure described in my last Ethiopian post, the day trip to Awash National Park. Later, we went shopping for gold, silver, and textiles, ate, wandered around, visited, relaxed. We listened to the Muslim call to prayer and the Ethiopian Orthodox chanting. One day I heard another voice over the loud speakers and asked, “What is this one?” The Pentecostals competing–three types of churches all on loud speakers, calling people to worship. Because at least two of them start before dawn, it kept my friends up. By this time in the trip, I had earned to sleep through it all.

I like the climate in Adama, especially after being cold for most of the first half of the trip. It seemed I could put on multiple layers and still shiver. Adama is nice and warm, hot, but not too hot. Flowers and tropical fruits thrive as in the photos below–my friend’s mother’s lush garden and her elegant table.

The plates are an Ethiopian design apparently only available there–Ethiopian figures in a circle. Even breakfast is a work of art.

The neighbor’s grape arbor amazed me. I have never seen anything like it.

Zoning remains unheard of here. Next to a new, well built, modern house where one or two families may live is a place like this or the one on the other side of my friend’s parents’ house where both cows and no one knew exactly how many people live.

In the dark space in the middle of the above photo live two cows–if they have not been slaughtered by now. From this vantage point I could see a minaret, a modern wind farm on the far hill, cows, goats, an empty lot, a luxurious looking house being built on the other side of this adjoining lot, everything from the most modern to the ancient. Every bedroom possessed its own little patio. The photo below shows the view from mine.

So we would not have to make a mad rush to get me to the airport through Addis traffic, we went back to Addis the day before my flight out. I took a few photos from the front of the Addis airport before I left.

Due to the kindness of a complete stranger, I made my flight. When I was about to go through the passport line, I discovered I had my friend’s passport which meant she had mine. In Bahir Dahr, we had to show our passports to the hotel before getting keys for our rooms. Apparently, the young man switched them when he gave them back to us. We took them and put them away without looking. My phone did not work in Ethiopia. I experienced a major panic. I had my Ethiopian friend’s phone number but no phone. I explained to the guy checking passports the problem. The man standing in line next to me heard and offered his phone. He actually got out of line to help me. I did not recognize his accent and have no idea his country. He called the number for me. The call failed to go through. He waited, tried again. Eventually, it all worked out and I made my flight, all due to this man’s patience and kindness. When I finally made it inside the airport, several people who had heard the problem actually came up to me and told me they were worried I might not make it. I knew none of them; yet they cared.

With a six hour layover in Dubai, I had a lot of time to wander, drink coffee, explore the airport, which is huge, really huge. I bought some perfume–Muslim perfume with no alcohol in it. I like it so much, I will have to figure out how and where to order it when it runs out. Many of this airport’s shops are opulent. People stood in line to buy gold, high end cosmetics, designer everything. It is cosmopolitan, clean, efficient, fancy, welcoming.

In this airport, I saw one of the women who was relieved to see me inside the airport at Addis after my passport scare. She unfortunately experienced a frightening incident during the flight and they had to give her oxygen. We chatted, she seemed fine finally. As I write this, what do I remember most of those last 36 hours of the trip: the kindness and concern of total strangers.

My Ethiopian Adventure: The Great Rift Valley and Awash National Park

December 14, 2014December 14, 2014 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

My friend’s parents live in Nazret or Adama, depending on which Ethiopian language you speak. Nazret is the Amharic name and Adama is Oromo. After relaxing a couple of days there, we headed toward Awash National Park for a day trip. What a contrast to the previous part of our journey. Intense green and cold totally gone. What we saw here probably fits more with what most Americans picture when they hear the word Ethiopia.

On the way out of town into the country, we passed fields of various crops including this sugar cane field.

We also saw fields cultivated for sowing teff. Since I had seen teff fields previously in the green, high mountain country, I came to the conclusion that teff successfully grows in a wide variety of climates and altitudes.

This is volcano country. Although most are extinct and have not erupted in hundreds to thousands of years, at least one in sight of the highway has erupted within recent history.

Throughout the trip we saw small villages of traditional round houses with thatched roofs, most with rock walls around them. These walls provide protection from predators such as hyenas. And then suddenly we were there, a place I so wanted to see, the Great Rift Valley, the place where the oldest totally intact hominid skeleton was found, Lucy.

The Great Rift Valley goes for thousands of miles from farther south in Kenya up through the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. I was very surprised to discover they grow grapes here in Ethiopia and produce wine. We decided to try it; the merlot was good. A series of unique lakes lay in the valley. I would like to go back and visit all of them. Some are filled with so many chemicals, you cannot drink the water and no fish live there. An example is Metehara Lake. The fish are delicious, but the water cannot be safely drunk. The most amazing thing about this lake is that it grows approximately four inches annually. In the last few years, the road had to be relocated because of it.

First glimpse of the lake. Then we had a flat tire which delayed the trip a few hours because not only did Dino and his dad have to change the tire, but we had to stop in the town of Metehara to buy a new spare which entailed bargaining and more bargaining. Dino’s mom hiked down the road to get rocks to keep the vehicle from rolling. If I had realized what she was doing, I would have done it myself. She is in her 70s.

A little adventure occurred here. First, while they were working on the tire, a man came along and offered to help. His truck (this is a major highway between Adama and Djibouti) had broken down nearby. Then an Afar teenager came along and looked around, saying nothing. I realized he had a dagger in the back of his clothes when he walked off. Finally, an Afar man, maybe in his late 40s or 50s came along. The Afar are a nomadic people who have lived in East Africa for thousands of years. The men are noted for their ferocity. Their lifestyle has changed little; instead of spears, they now carry assault rifles slung across a shoulder. They herd cattle, goats, and camels. He walked around the vehicle and came up to me. Neither of us knowing the others’ language, the tiny conversation consisted of gestures. Dino suddenly told me to get in the car. At first I ignored him. A couple of minutes passed; he loudly repeated the order. I got in the car, wondering why. When I asked, he told me one never knows what the Afar are going to do and pointed out just how close the man had stood. I never noticed; I have no personal space.

Tire changed, we drove toward the town close to the lake.

Crossing thèse lava beds would be difficult. As we dropped lower, we drove on the new road by the lake. You can see the old road crossing the middle of the photo below. It is nearly covered with water.

We missed the entrance to the park, realized we had gone too far, turned around, and headed back. The entrance to the lodge is more like what most people think of when they think of Africa.

This was one of my favorite places: it was warm, almost hot. I saw lesser kudus several times, but they seemed so ordinary to the others that no one stopped so I could take a photo. The lodge was delightful and the shiro some of the best I had. Loved it. I even asked for the recipe. The resident ostriches, however, looked rather pathetic.

Here the Awash River is full of crocodiles. Our first glimpse was through binoculars from the lodge restaurant.

Dino’s mom posed with me while we waited for lunch. Then we hiked down to the river and the falls where we saw even more crocodiles.

The falls are so large that I could take a photo of only a portion of them at the top where the hike down begins.

The green between the two sections of the falls was totally covered with water a few weeks later when Dino’s brother travelled there with his family.

I loved walking along the river banks, careful, however, because of the crocodiles. They may look slow, but they can really move rapidly when they choose to do so.

Crocodiles like basking in the sun.

Along the highway, camels graze, boys herd large flocks of goats, and a totally different species of acacia appear.

If you look at the background of the photo below, you can see long lines of corrals–for camels to export to Yemen and other areas where camels are eaten. If you live in Amarillo, Texas, and order in advance, you can eat camel at the Somali restaurant on Amarillo Boulevard.

Unlike most of Ethiopia where we had previously travelled, here we saw fences especially around villages. They bring the livestock in for protection from not only hyenas but also lions. Yes, lions live here. I asked if they ever see them. I was told, “No, but you sometimes hear them roar at night.” They also told me that the lions like to go down to the sugar cane factory, but no one knows why.

When I want an Ethiopia “fix”, I listen a audio/video of Awash Falls.

My Ethiopian Adventure: On the Road from Debre Markos to Addis, Crossing the Nile Gorge

November 16, 2014November 16, 2014 / Juliana Lightle / 3 Comments

Once again, we drove through rain and clouds and endless fields, some of which had been cultivated ready to plant and some all green and growing.

I realize this is not what most people in the United States think when they hear the word Ethiopia. I kept thinking of photos I had seen of Ireland.

The ancient grain, teff, produces extremely tiny seeds which are ground to flour to make injera, an Ethiopia staple. It is used much like people in India use chapatis or like people in Mexico use tortillas. However, it looks nothing like either of these. It is thicker and a bit spongy like crepes but huge–more than a foot in diameter. The man in the photo below is sowing teff.

Teff fields stretch almost as far as the eye can see.

Villages are frequently set along side the good highways.

Major highways are excellent. The only really bad road we traversed was in Simien Mountains National Park where they keep the road that way on purpose. Well, that and the streets in Addis.

As we came closer to the Nile Gorge, it became more mountainous again.

First sight of the Nile Gorge.

All major bridges seem to have a resident guard. Unlike the guard at the bridge in Bahir Dar, this guy told us we could walk around and take photos.

If there is a guard, he has to have a guard house.

And a house.

Even though by this time I had not only floated down the Nile but also crossed it in a boat a couple of times, I remained entranced. We walked across the old bridge built in 1948. Actual traffic now crosses the new bridge built by the Japanese.