Ethiopia 1

Flying into Addis Ababa is quite dramatic because Addis sits high in the Entoto Mountains. You virtually land on a mountain top. And when I stepped off the plane, the smell of sweet wood smoke - like BBQ-sauced meat cooking - filled the air. I had a feeling I’d like it here. 

When I arrived in Ethiopia I did much more than change time zones. I crossed a “trestle in time”. First, the year: Ethiopia is in the year 2011 (because it never switched to the Gregorian Calendar). It will be New Year’s Day 2012 here on what we call September 12th, 2019. It’s complicated. 

Second, the time: according to our way of telling time, I landed at 8:30 a.m. But according to local (and traditional) time telling I landed at 2:30 day time. Say what? Well, it’s not so complicated. And it makes sense, actually. Ethiopians use a 12 hour clock. Day begins at dawn, roughly reckoned to be 6 a.m. If the day starts at 6, it follows that 7 a.m. is 1 o’clock day time. 8 in the morning is 2 o’clock day time, and so on. Until dusk, 6 p.m., when the twelve hour clock is reset and the counting starts all over again. 7 p.m. is 1 o’clock night time. Etc. 

My fabulous friend Meheret made arrangements for me to have a driver, Menassae, for the days before I joined my tour. Menassae’s English is not strong (though 100% better than my Amharic) but we manage to communicate - often he recognizes the English word when I guess it, even if he can’t remember it without prompting. Luckily he’s good at giving clues! And even better at driving in Ethiopian traffic (rules similar to India but as if everyone has taken a chill pill).

The Mercato is Africa’s oldest and largest market, and as you wander the broken streets and partially abandoned buildings you can find everything from Santa dealieboppers (those headbands with springs and funny things atop them), to mattresses, to live chickens. Indeed, I was delighted to see many people walking around with a live chicken tucked securely under an arm or, less gently (and less delighted) grasped by its feet as the owner continued through the market. Impossibly thin men carry impossibly heavy loads through the crowds, calling out warnings, dodging people and potholes. Donkeys carry the even
heavier loads. Merchants whose vegetable wares rest on the ground use slender sticks to guide them, should they deviate from their true path.

Speaking of true paths, Ethiopia has a predominantly Coptic Christian population. Perhaps its biggest tourist draw is its rock-hewn churches, which I will see on my tour. In Addis, I’ve seen five eight sided churches of wide and welcoming architectural design. Although church doors are open only for a brief time before and after services (and closed during services), people visit the churches at all times and treat 
the walls much as I understand Jews treat the Wailing Wall. They lean their heads against them, place their palms flat upon them, kiss them, and whisper prayers to them, unburdening their souls. When services are being conducted, they are broadcast via loudspeaker for those who did not make it before the doors closed. People gather in the churchyard, and on the streets outside the church, in silent worship. It’s quite moving. 

Other than churches, I’ve visited markets - the streets with young boys manning scales for people to weigh themselves, and booths selling all sorts of useful things such as felt bootliners and book bags for children, and all sorts of useless things such as, well, most of it as far as I’m concerned; the Mercato which has everything; the cotton goods market; the silver jewelry market; fruit and vegetable markets; and the meat market where individual goats, sheep and cows are separated from their herds. Cows are herded 
home - neighbours will chip in on a cow to share. Goats and sheep are transported home by a wide variety of means. I’ve seen them led with strings, by a hand holding one front 
hoof, wheel barrow style by the two back hooves, draped over the shoulders of strong men, carried by pairs of men holding two hooves each, loaded into the trunks of cabs, and I saw two sheep being loaded into the back of one brand new looking Toyota 4 wheel drive. People take them home and butcher them right in their yards. It’s a far cry from our packaged supermarket meats. I’m definitely not in _____ anymore - well, what shall I say? Canada? That’s been a while. Oman? Definitely.