I've now arrived in Gonder, significantly ahead of schedule. I was originally planning to wait until Sunday to take the once-a-week two-day ferry across Lake Tana and get to Gonder the slow way, but decided that (a) two more days in Bahir Dar was more than I needed, and (b) since there's more of Ethiopia than I can see in a month, there's no point in lingering four days over a boat ride that's received decidedly mixed reviews. I was kind of keen on the idea of a rest day at my hotel in Bahir Dar, with its beautiful lakefront terrace--a perfect place for relaxing and reading and getting started on the writing I wanted to do this month--but since I might need a few days in Gonder to arrange a trek in the Simien Mountains that's to my liking, I've decided to compromise on the idyllic setting front and do whatever relaxing in Gonder rather than Bahir Dar. So this morning I made my best impression of a sardine and crammed into a minibus (next to an older guy who spent some time coughing up something I hope was non-communicable before succumbing to motion sickness--fortunately into a bag and not onto me) and shot through consistently beautiful surroundings to arrive in Gonder by early afternoon.
But let's rewind to Bahir Dar. Yesterday was a good day. It started with boarding a boat and chugging out into Lake Tana (actually, it started--for me at least--with waking up and eating breakfast, but I'm skipping the boring bits, for the most part). I was joined by four women on holiday from working in various aid and other capacities in Rwanda, and Nick, an American spending a couple weeks in Ethiopia. Lake Tana is dotted with venerable monasteries, mostly dating between the 13th and 17th centuries when Lake Tana was the centre of Ethiopian Christianity. We'd paid for a half-day outing, which meant we didn't get to see the monasteries in the middle of the lake (it would have cost a lot to get that far), but we did get to see the highlight of the monasteries on the southern end of the lake, Ura Kidane Mihret on Zege Peninsula. The monastery is truly spectacular, and I only hope my camera remains unstolen so that I can share the pictures when I get back to my laptop. Non-priests aren't allowed inside the inner sanctum of the church, but we were able to marvel at the frescoes that adorned outer walls of the square sanctum (actually, I don't think "fresco" is the right word, since they weren't painted directly onto the walls, but rather onto a kind of canvas stretched over the walls). And my, they were marvellous. Part of what excites me about Ethiopia is the way that it's full of all sorts of cultural artefacts that are unlike anything else in the world, which makes description-by-comparison a dicey business. But we're looking at walls rising maybe 20 feet, and top to bottom in a riot of brightly coloured images ranging from the life and death of Christ to some rather grisly scenes of war, monsters, and other fun stuff (one shows a massive fish that's been speared through the head, rescuing locals from the raiding of this monstrous sea creature). All of this in a cartoony style that's vaguely reminiscent of Medieval European art.
We had the option of viewing five monasteries, but since the $3 entrance fee for each wasn't included in the price of the tour, I only saw two, which is one more than all of the others. That second one was on the island of Kibran Gebriel, and wasn't anywhere near as impressive as Ura Kidane Mihret, but did include a museum where I got to look at a number of ancient trinkets, including the crowns of various Ethiopian kings, and some ancient manuscripts, all written in Ge'ez, which is to modern Amharic what Latin is to modern Romance languages. As interesting as the manuscripts was the priest who showed me around, with his leathery skin clinging to ferociously sharp cheekbones, and his half-blue-half-brown eyes sunk deep in their sockets.
The monastery at Kibran Gebriel is at the top of the hill on this tiny island, and although it was only a five minute hike up to the top, I was reminded by my breathlessness that, despite the heat, I was nearly 2000m higher than I was a week ago. And, in fairness, the heat hasn't been that bad. I imagine at this latitude at sea level it would be brutal. Because it's between the spring solstice and the summer equinox, and because Ethiopia's between the Tropic of Cancer and the equator, the sun stands pretty much directly overhead at midday.
On the way back to Bahir Dar, the boat also stopped in briefly at the point where the Blue Nile flows out of Lake Tana and begins its bendy route toward Cairo. The treat here was that a curious and massive hippo popped its head out of the water a few times to take a look at us. I was consistently too slow with my camera to catch it, which is a shame, since if I'd not even bothered trying I could have spent a few more seconds staring in amazement at this monstrous river-horse.
In the afternoon I had a brief wander around town to familiarize myself with the experience of being a foreigner walking the streets of an Ethiopian town. I also got a haircut and a shave, though the shave sadly just involved an electric shaver.
And then in the evening, the six of us (me, Nick, and the four women) headed out on the town to experience the Ethiopian Asmari Bet. We entered a small bar, where everyone sits on makeshift stools around a central dancing area. I decided to go for a local honey mead called tej rather than the usual beer. All the music is live, with a drummer and a musician fiddling away madly on a single-stringed lute-like instrument (I didn't get the name). A good chunk of the evening simply involves everyone dancing, and my do Ethiopians dance funny. Actually, both the music and the dancing fell somewhere between what I might stereotypically expect from the Middle East and from Sub-Saharan Africa, which, given Ethiopia's location, is hardly surprising, although such comparisons make it sound far less stranger than it is. The dancing involves a lot of high-frequency shoulder jiggling matched with knee bouncing that, among the enthusiastic, translates into jumping and kicking in the air. It's the sort of thing that I imagine could serve equally plausibly as a war dance or a dance of seduction. The merry and super friendly crowd had dragged me to my feet within minutes and tried to tutor me in the ways of Ethiopian dancing, and very encouragingly praised me as a true Ethiopian even though my dance moves have never been known to win praise, the less so when it involves high-speed jiggling.
There were also a couple of thrilling performances in between the general free-for-all. Early in the evening, a couple guys got dressed up in traditional warrior garb and paced back and forth in a warlike manner, chanting out various--well, I don't speak Amharic, so I don't know if they were threats, boasts, or something else--all to the rhythm supplied by the musicians. Better yet was later in the evening when the musicians, singers, and dancers started wooing the audience, rich foreigners being an obvious source of tips. One of the women shook in a near-epileptic frenzy in front of me, her face fixed in a maniacal grin, occasionally letting out gasps and hisses. I had never realized how seductive a hiss could be. Two of the male musicians did the rounds, singing improvised songs of praise--again, the words escaped me for the most part, but I did catch words like "Canada" and "America" as they tried to guess the nationality they were praising. My man got a 10 birr tip after I requested special praise for Vancouver. This improvised praise-singing, by the way, isn't something they just do to squeeze tips from tourists, but is an established feature of Ethiopian entertainment, and as a foreigner, I was decidedly in the minority in the crowd.
So good fun all round. I kicked off the evening by chewing some chat with Nick, which was supplied by his guide/friend Teklay, who may feature later in this blog since he's Tigraian and getting to some of the rock-hewn churches in Tigray is apparently much easier if you have a local guide. But that will probably not be for another couple weeks. Anyway, chat (I've seen it referred to as "qat" in articles about Somali pirates) is an East African narcotic that's prominent in Muslim areas where alcohol is prohibited, but has caught on in Christian Ethiopia as well. The idea is to munch on a bunch of green leaves, generating a mild buzz. I didn't chew very many--and also found that it filled my mouth so full of saliva that I had to spit it out sooner than I probably should have if I'd wanted the full effect--so it didn't really do much for me, but hey, when in Rome. I'd been warned that they taste awful, but I found they were kind of similar to pea pods in taste. Not at all bad.
And that pretty much sums up my time in Bahir Dar. So far my time in Gonder has involved scoping out the scene to see if I can find groups to share the costs for a trek in the Simien Mountains. It looks like it won't be cheap, and my hope of a week-long trek to the summit of Ras Dashen, Africa's fourth-highest mountain, is pretty much a no-go. I visited a couple tour agencies that have groups leaving tomorrow, but at nearly $100 per day for three- or four-day trips, I think I'll wait it out a little longer and see if I can hook myself up with a group and negotiate a better deal. I want to spend a couple days in Gonder anyway, and also am very happy to just take a day off relaxing if I need to wait, even if it isn't as pleasant as my lakeside retreat in Bahir Dar. I was pretty flexible in my budgeting, and if I have to spend in the neighborhood of $80 per day for four days, that shouldn't break the bank as long as I save costs on other days. Today's costing barely over $20 all told, for instance.
And that's about that. So far, I'm having a mostly great time. I'm still acclimatizing to being a constant target of attention from touts and children, and of having to be constantly vigilant about the ubiquitous desire to overcharge me, but the hassles are far less than I'd been led to fear.
But let's rewind to Bahir Dar. Yesterday was a good day. It started with boarding a boat and chugging out into Lake Tana (actually, it started--for me at least--with waking up and eating breakfast, but I'm skipping the boring bits, for the most part). I was joined by four women on holiday from working in various aid and other capacities in Rwanda, and Nick, an American spending a couple weeks in Ethiopia. Lake Tana is dotted with venerable monasteries, mostly dating between the 13th and 17th centuries when Lake Tana was the centre of Ethiopian Christianity. We'd paid for a half-day outing, which meant we didn't get to see the monasteries in the middle of the lake (it would have cost a lot to get that far), but we did get to see the highlight of the monasteries on the southern end of the lake, Ura Kidane Mihret on Zege Peninsula. The monastery is truly spectacular, and I only hope my camera remains unstolen so that I can share the pictures when I get back to my laptop. Non-priests aren't allowed inside the inner sanctum of the church, but we were able to marvel at the frescoes that adorned outer walls of the square sanctum (actually, I don't think "fresco" is the right word, since they weren't painted directly onto the walls, but rather onto a kind of canvas stretched over the walls). And my, they were marvellous. Part of what excites me about Ethiopia is the way that it's full of all sorts of cultural artefacts that are unlike anything else in the world, which makes description-by-comparison a dicey business. But we're looking at walls rising maybe 20 feet, and top to bottom in a riot of brightly coloured images ranging from the life and death of Christ to some rather grisly scenes of war, monsters, and other fun stuff (one shows a massive fish that's been speared through the head, rescuing locals from the raiding of this monstrous sea creature). All of this in a cartoony style that's vaguely reminiscent of Medieval European art.
We had the option of viewing five monasteries, but since the $3 entrance fee for each wasn't included in the price of the tour, I only saw two, which is one more than all of the others. That second one was on the island of Kibran Gebriel, and wasn't anywhere near as impressive as Ura Kidane Mihret, but did include a museum where I got to look at a number of ancient trinkets, including the crowns of various Ethiopian kings, and some ancient manuscripts, all written in Ge'ez, which is to modern Amharic what Latin is to modern Romance languages. As interesting as the manuscripts was the priest who showed me around, with his leathery skin clinging to ferociously sharp cheekbones, and his half-blue-half-brown eyes sunk deep in their sockets.
The monastery at Kibran Gebriel is at the top of the hill on this tiny island, and although it was only a five minute hike up to the top, I was reminded by my breathlessness that, despite the heat, I was nearly 2000m higher than I was a week ago. And, in fairness, the heat hasn't been that bad. I imagine at this latitude at sea level it would be brutal. Because it's between the spring solstice and the summer equinox, and because Ethiopia's between the Tropic of Cancer and the equator, the sun stands pretty much directly overhead at midday.
On the way back to Bahir Dar, the boat also stopped in briefly at the point where the Blue Nile flows out of Lake Tana and begins its bendy route toward Cairo. The treat here was that a curious and massive hippo popped its head out of the water a few times to take a look at us. I was consistently too slow with my camera to catch it, which is a shame, since if I'd not even bothered trying I could have spent a few more seconds staring in amazement at this monstrous river-horse.
In the afternoon I had a brief wander around town to familiarize myself with the experience of being a foreigner walking the streets of an Ethiopian town. I also got a haircut and a shave, though the shave sadly just involved an electric shaver.
And then in the evening, the six of us (me, Nick, and the four women) headed out on the town to experience the Ethiopian Asmari Bet. We entered a small bar, where everyone sits on makeshift stools around a central dancing area. I decided to go for a local honey mead called tej rather than the usual beer. All the music is live, with a drummer and a musician fiddling away madly on a single-stringed lute-like instrument (I didn't get the name). A good chunk of the evening simply involves everyone dancing, and my do Ethiopians dance funny. Actually, both the music and the dancing fell somewhere between what I might stereotypically expect from the Middle East and from Sub-Saharan Africa, which, given Ethiopia's location, is hardly surprising, although such comparisons make it sound far less stranger than it is. The dancing involves a lot of high-frequency shoulder jiggling matched with knee bouncing that, among the enthusiastic, translates into jumping and kicking in the air. It's the sort of thing that I imagine could serve equally plausibly as a war dance or a dance of seduction. The merry and super friendly crowd had dragged me to my feet within minutes and tried to tutor me in the ways of Ethiopian dancing, and very encouragingly praised me as a true Ethiopian even though my dance moves have never been known to win praise, the less so when it involves high-speed jiggling.
There were also a couple of thrilling performances in between the general free-for-all. Early in the evening, a couple guys got dressed up in traditional warrior garb and paced back and forth in a warlike manner, chanting out various--well, I don't speak Amharic, so I don't know if they were threats, boasts, or something else--all to the rhythm supplied by the musicians. Better yet was later in the evening when the musicians, singers, and dancers started wooing the audience, rich foreigners being an obvious source of tips. One of the women shook in a near-epileptic frenzy in front of me, her face fixed in a maniacal grin, occasionally letting out gasps and hisses. I had never realized how seductive a hiss could be. Two of the male musicians did the rounds, singing improvised songs of praise--again, the words escaped me for the most part, but I did catch words like "Canada" and "America" as they tried to guess the nationality they were praising. My man got a 10 birr tip after I requested special praise for Vancouver. This improvised praise-singing, by the way, isn't something they just do to squeeze tips from tourists, but is an established feature of Ethiopian entertainment, and as a foreigner, I was decidedly in the minority in the crowd.
So good fun all round. I kicked off the evening by chewing some chat with Nick, which was supplied by his guide/friend Teklay, who may feature later in this blog since he's Tigraian and getting to some of the rock-hewn churches in Tigray is apparently much easier if you have a local guide. But that will probably not be for another couple weeks. Anyway, chat (I've seen it referred to as "qat" in articles about Somali pirates) is an East African narcotic that's prominent in Muslim areas where alcohol is prohibited, but has caught on in Christian Ethiopia as well. The idea is to munch on a bunch of green leaves, generating a mild buzz. I didn't chew very many--and also found that it filled my mouth so full of saliva that I had to spit it out sooner than I probably should have if I'd wanted the full effect--so it didn't really do much for me, but hey, when in Rome. I'd been warned that they taste awful, but I found they were kind of similar to pea pods in taste. Not at all bad.
And that pretty much sums up my time in Bahir Dar. So far my time in Gonder has involved scoping out the scene to see if I can find groups to share the costs for a trek in the Simien Mountains. It looks like it won't be cheap, and my hope of a week-long trek to the summit of Ras Dashen, Africa's fourth-highest mountain, is pretty much a no-go. I visited a couple tour agencies that have groups leaving tomorrow, but at nearly $100 per day for three- or four-day trips, I think I'll wait it out a little longer and see if I can hook myself up with a group and negotiate a better deal. I want to spend a couple days in Gonder anyway, and also am very happy to just take a day off relaxing if I need to wait, even if it isn't as pleasant as my lakeside retreat in Bahir Dar. I was pretty flexible in my budgeting, and if I have to spend in the neighborhood of $80 per day for four days, that shouldn't break the bank as long as I save costs on other days. Today's costing barely over $20 all told, for instance.
And that's about that. So far, I'm having a mostly great time. I'm still acclimatizing to being a constant target of attention from touts and children, and of having to be constantly vigilant about the ubiquitous desire to overcharge me, but the hassles are far less than I'd been led to fear.
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