In Gondar

By Jerome Kirby

In Gondar is an entertaining and thought-provoking eye-witness account of a country which is often misrepresented. Through anecdotes, narrative, research and photos, Jerome Kirby explores the multi-faceted country of Ethiopia. From the extreme poverty of popular imagination to its stunning landscapes, Ethiopia and its unique culture demands to be better understood. All profits go to the charity Link Ethiopia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781291912272

Book preview

In Gondar

In Gondar

Jerome Kirby

Introduction

It took only a few days to realise that keeping a detailed journal was not only warranted but a potentially exciting project, such was the array of insights, anecdotes and entertainment Ethiopia had already provided. As if to vindicate my decision, as I began to write that first entry up there in the Abyssinian highlands, a group of priests with drums came to the door, wailing and chanting in celebration of Meskel, the fiery festival marking the finding of the True Cross. Thereafter, day after day, for three months I witnessed, observed and engaged with so many aspects of what I came to discover to be a remarkably interesting and multi-faceted culture.

Upon my return to Britain three months later, I asked friends and family what images were conjured up in their minds in relation to Ethiopia. Almost everyone mentioned poverty, drought, bloated bellies and the like. Some mentioned long distance runners like Haile Gabre Selassie but only a handful suggested any positive images such as music and dancing. These responses made me determined to paint a truer, fuller picture of Ethiopia than is generally portrayed. Undeniably, Ethiopia has humanitarian concerns, problems I routinely witnessed firsthand and that I do not shy away from describing in this book. Yet media reports and aid campaigns create a one-dimensional perception of a fascinatingly multifarious country. This journal is my attempt to do Ethiopia justice.

Did you know that Ethiopia is considered the cradle of humankind by many experts, is home to arguably the greatest man-made wonder in the world, was the first country to adopt Christianity and is where the lowest point on earth is situated? Did you know its history boasts figures such as the Queen of Sheba, King Solomon and the father of Rastafarianism? Why do many Ethiopians consider darker skinned races inferior, what do Ethiopians respect about Britain and what do they consider a ‘Western Disease’? Why, with a favourable climate and abundant agricultural capacity (contrary to popular belief) is this country often unable to care for its populace? What do Ethiopians themselves think about this? Given the low spending power and the influence of religion, how come many men drink so much beer? What do Ethiopians do far better than us and why do we share St George as patron saint?

These are just a few of the hundreds of insights that viewing Ethiopia from the ground over an extended period of time enabled. Combine this with innumerable anecdotes of an amusing, fascinating or shocking nature and it is easy to see why this was a truly eye-opening and ceaselessly engrossing experience.

My lifelong love of travel and foreign affairs developed into an awareness of the importance of international development during the later stages of university. This, coupled with a desire to understand a country in greater depth, as opposed to travelling through, brought me onto this adventure. My partner in crime, who I met just once prior to departure, was a medical student-to-be, Rob. Fortunately - as we did pretty much everything together and shared one little room for the duration - we got on really well.

Our primary role was to teach English in a school just outside Gondar, a historic city in the northern area of Amhara, for the charity Link Ethiopia. In contrast to many ‘gap year’ type organisations, I knew with Link I would be largely autonomous and, with no profit motive, Link carries out genuinely positive and impacting initiatives.

Both of us did far more than teach though; activities such as filming rural life for Link Ethiopia’s website and visiting impoverished children in their homes to compile reports for another charity based out there really enabled us to get under the skin of Ethiopia. We were also lucky to undertake several unforgettable excursions deep into rural Ethiopia and to historic sites, one of which, I am sure, would be as revered as Angkor Wat, the Great Wall or Machu Picchu if it were located in a more accessible country.

I won’t pretend it was all fun and games though. For me, Ethiopia was not always an easy place to live. We also spent many evenings simply throwing a bouncy ball around when our resourcefulness in the absence of electricity and internet ran low!

The journal is in the style of daily entries most of the time, but it is not an exact science so, depending on how and when I took down notes, I may have written several days at a time or used bullet points. I may well have made mistakes or been inconsistent with regard to spellings of things Ethiopian, but when in Rome… (they seem to change the spelling of even their own names a lot of the time). We met dozens of people, both habesha (Ethiopian) and farenji (meaning ‘foreign’, derived from Arabic word for Frankish), however I have altered or omitted some names for various reasons.

To support the journal, I have written more formal sections on culture, travel advice, geography, history and I also look at the pressing issue of development in Ethiopia. These sections compliment the narrative of the journal by providing further information and context. For example I explore the positive and negative aspects of religion in a more focused way than is possible during the journal. I hope the overall result will be an engaging, informative and entertaining account of one of the world’s richest cultures.

Quotes from the journal

‘Maybe it’s the generous hospitality, maybe it’s the frenzied festivals and music, maybe it’s the stunning scenery or maybe it’s the strong beer! Whatever it is, something’s really making us start to enjoy this intriguing culture.’ 

‘I was amazed to find out that the ancient and most basic of agricultural techniques, irrigation, is hardly practised. Consequently, a country which receives abundant annual rainfall (contrary to popular imagination) experiences routine water shortages of a damaging and occasionally devastating nature.’

‘As we watch a woman giving birth in the delivery room, Jack explains how the male midwives beat the women, use forceps and fundal pressure and cut the women unnecessarily to speed up the process. As a result, many babies are born with cone heads, brain damage, infections and other avoidable complications. In the hospital, though, officially there are no infections – but then there are no official statistics!’

‘It’s a bizarre landscape which I can’t really describe; barren grassland dotted with cactus-like Great Labelias and palm tree impersonators; it resembles a cross between the Lake District and the Wild West.’

‘As we gaze out, a whirlwind of dust suddenly hurtles towards us and we can only just evade it as it swirls furiously on, destroying any plastic wigwams unfortunate enough to lie in its path. But it hardly provokes a stir among the people.’

‘There’s not much time to reflect; we’re whisked into the centre of the crowd for some increasingly energetic dancing with total strangers.’

‘A girl at school had a fit which scared the pupils and teachers who thought it was ‘evil eye’. They pinned her down and called for a priest to cure her with holy water.’

‘It is a hectic scene of goats head butting people, men tussling, fruit and veg sellers, table football games and old men watching this colourful world go by.’

Part 1: The Journal

My companion for the London Heathrow to Addis Ababa flight was a Welshman working for the British Council and, as he polished off four or five complimentary gins, he offered a few words of encouragement and advice (particularly on where to find the prettiest girls) – useful at a time of slight apprehension as well as anticipation; I was flying into sub-Saharan Africa, into a new challenge, to volunteer for the charity Link Ethiopia.

After a 12 hour journey commencing on the 22nd September, we arrived in a stifling cloud of pollution early on the 23rd. Two other Link volunteers, Ashley and Aimee, had been on the flight with us but they headed south while Rob and I spent a couple of days in Addis before heading north. It is in this chaotic capital that the journal begins.

Chapter 1, 23-24 September. Addis Ababa; welcome to Ethiopia

‘Rob and I are invited by other customers to eat their food with them, a remarkable aspect of the Ethiopian sharing culture – imagine sharing a stranger’s pie and chips in a London pub.’

Day 1: A taste of Ethiopia

Our first taste of Ethiopia is the fabled bureaucratic ‘efficiency’ as a seemingly unnecessary delay at customs keeps us in suspense, but soon enough we find ourselves in the early morning madness of Ethiopia’s capital city. Set in a beautiful bowl in the Ethiopian highlands, Addis Ababa has a population of nearly 4m people and, as the headquarters of the African Union, it is an important place.

Our friendly Link Ethiopia guide, Haile, decides the best way to view it is from the ubiquitous line taxis - private minibuses that follow a set route. There are, of course, western style taxis but this is far more fun (British health and safety officials would have a fit) - and really cheap! It entails minibuses filled to twice capacity hurtling through the streets, narrowly avoiding collisions with similarly uncompromising drivers. Torrents of barely discernible shouting such as ‘Mixqua, Mixqua, Bole, Bole, Bole’ (Bole road is the happening area of Addis) come from the driver’s assistant leaning out the open sliding door. Our first line taxi gets a flat tyre. Walking is not a speedy alternative though, Ethiopians dawdle, and Haile keeps pulling us back and ticking us off for walking too quickly and ‘not like Ethiopian’.

We’re quick to get stuck into Ethiopian cuisine. In a little café, a pancake like thing called injera with a reddy-brown sauce is plonked unceremoniously in front of us and we’re encouraged to grab fistfuls and stuff it in our (and each other’s!) mouths, to chants of ‘come on England’. Injera is the absolute staple here. The core ingredient is a nutritious crop, peculiar to Ethiopia, called t’ef. It has a strange sour taste and a rubbery texture but I immediately take to it. Rob, understandably, is less persuaded. Shirro – essentially spicy ground chick peas - is the most common sauce while Tibs – small pieces of fried lamb - is a bit fancier and out of the reach of most of the population. Rob and I are invited by other customers to eat their food with them, a remarkable aspect of the Ethiopian sharing culture – imagine sharing a stranger’s pie and chips in a London pub.

On a different note, I can’t help but be struck by the miserable state of many horrendously deformed people scrambling around on the floor desperate for any form of sustenance and hope. It is a natural instinct to try to help financially but we are advised not to as it encourages begging – a real problem as poor families often send their children to beg instead of, say, attending school. The existence of a fairly new (and small) breed of relatively affluent people rubbing shoulders with them on the street serves to highlight their plight.

A museum located in the university grounds is an attractive and peaceful spot away from the stifling streets of Addis. The paintings here are interesting, a unique style of bold colours and circular, 2-dimensional design.  Unfortunately ‘Lucy’ – the oldest known hominid remains on the planet which were discovered in eastern Ethiopia – is in a museum in America at the moment.

Back at the hotel, we meet Angela, who, following retirement, came to Ethiopia and enjoyed it enough to return as a volunteer with Link (a good sign!) and will join us in Gondar. She has an Ethiopian friend from her previous trip with her, Tom, a shy but pleasant bloke who seems to adore Angela.

Day 2: Exploring

We spend the day exploring the city and frequenting various cafés.  In many respects, Addis confirms my expectations; vibrancy, friendliness and pride (any number of Ethiopians are keen to extol the virtues of their country to the foreigner) on the one hand, and poverty and low living standards on the other. To compound the classic image we see many groups of Ethiopians on long distance runs, kids playing football with bags of rubbish and we are the focus of much attention – ‘hey you, farenji (foreigner) where are you go, give me pen’.

However, to leave my perception at that would be to ignore many details like the random blues cafés and the smooth coffee. Yes, it is a polluted, dirty and largely non-descript capital city. But, it is obvious that this country has an individual culture which will only be heightened as we move away from this relatively international metropolis, something which excited us both - and how refreshing to not see a McDonalds anywhere!

Chapter 2, 25-27 September. Into Gondar; a baptism of smoke and festivals

‘A large cross made of wood and straw, is set alight, sending the Ethiopians wild. Initially it smokes but then dramatically bursts into flames and the crowd’s noise level increases further.’

Day 3: Into Gondar

After probably my last warm(ish) shower for a long time, the three of us set off aboard our propeller powered plane early on the 25th Sep. Chatting to a proud Ethiopian keeps me entertained on a flight which offers some striking views of the rugged mountains of highland Ethiopia, criss-crossed by streams and dotted with perilously placed huts. Further on we come across the murky waters of Lake Tana, the source of the Blue Nile.

We meet Mulugeta, a Link Ethiopia employee, in Gondar’s tiny airport, and a taxi takes us through the beautiful countryside into Gondar which sprawls clumsily across the hills. Immediately, dozens of screaming kids come flying over to us and start hitting the taxi, yelling ‘hello farenji, where are you go’. The streets are pot-hole ridden and crowded but bubbling with activity – not dissimilar to what I’d envisaged.

I had anticipated living with an Ethiopian family. However, our home for the next few months is a small room to ourselves in a relatively modern three-story compound, at the higher end of Gondar. It contains two single beds, a table and one chair. There is one ‘shower’ and ‘toilet’ for everyone on the first two floors, but they don’t really work. The bespectacled, baseball cap wearing former teacher and current Link Daddy, Belayneh – our boss here - shrugs his shoulders; ‘this is not England’.

We are quickly learning that getting a straight answer from an Ethiopian is not easy, but it seems that after a revitalizing injera lunch we will play volleyball with Mulugeta somewhere; ‘just volleyball, you can play’. After a fairly short journey past screaming kids, toothless old men and smiley young women, we end up at the grand gates of a large Italian style house on the edge of Gondar, standing in stark contrast to the modest lodgings around it, and set against a backdrop of picturesque mountain scenery. Inside we find a mixture of farenji volunteers and habesha (Ethiopians) enjoying a gathering. The goat carcass (that the volley ball repeatedly lands in) gives away what’s on the menu and the delicious fresh meat is washed down with my first Ethiopian beer, St George (which could have been Heineken or Stella).

We make many friends – comforting in an unfamiliar place - including Dave, the American Doctor who lives here, and who admits he feels uncomfortable living in such a mansion next door to subsistence farmers (accommodation is provided by the American government). We also meet the fourth and fifth members of the Link contingent, Alex (a former accountant and Kiwi, married to a VSO doctor here, Mark) and Melissa, a Welsh traveller. There is dancing and music until Mulugeta takes us back to Piazza (the centre of town) – without him we’d have no clue where to go or how to go about getting there.  We meet a bunch of sociable teenagers who knew previous Link volunteers. After today’s taster, we’re both looking forward to getting under the skin of this place.

Day 4: What a day!

At 6.30am I’m reminded of where I am by a cacophony of singing, music and women at work on the washing and cooking. While Rob somehow sleeps through the audio onslaught, I attempt to lose some of my blatant ‘farenjiness’ by learning some of the regional dialect/lingua franca of the government, Amharic. The most widely spoken of the 70-odd (yes 70!) official languages of Ethiopia, it is a unique language with some connections with ancient Hebrew – and tough to learn. I’m still unable to say thank you (ameuseugenallo). Like anywhere though, a little bit of effort is hugely appreciated.

We run into some of the VSOs (the name we’ve given to the entire group of farenji and habesha we met yesterday – even though most are not VSOs) in Piazza who take us to see the main Gondar market, Arada.

The fifteen minute walk allows me to take in the strange way that despite the bustle, no one seems to be in any sort of hurry. Of course we are the centre of attention – our white faces cause no end of excitement/attempts to earn a few extra pennies. And this is exacerbated in the market place which does not compare favourably on first impression with similar ones I’ve visited in Arabic countries. There is a lack of character to this jumble of livestock, fresh produce and knick knacks. Immediately we stop a child attempting to pick Alex’s pocket. That said, it still offers the inquisitive visitor a great insight into Ethiopian culture. Ignoring the motorised tuctucs (Bajaj) you feel as though you are stepping into biblical times, with market transactions brought back to basics by sandal/kaftan-clad merchants. Haggling is, surprisingly, not effective here but the vendors clearly enjoy interacting with us socially as I and a market seller try to trick Rob into buying a female Meskel