February 24, 2015 – Truth And Travel

After leaving the comfort of Awra Amba, our next adventure was a hiking trip in the Simian Mountains. We were looking for a trip that was mostly full so that the price was already at its lowest before we signed on. It was a game of talking to recruiters (guys on the street organizing trips for travel agencies), seeing what their particular trip offered, and how low they could take the price. We played it for a few days and then we signed on for a trek. The price included a guide, two armed guards, a tent, sleeping bags, and all of our meals. A major highlight of a hike through the Simian Mountains is the wildlife, and each trip promises a citing of gelada baboons. I wasn’t exactly sure how they could “promise that we would see baboons” and I was worried that we would somehow be the unlucky few who don’t see them.

The first morning of our trek we were warned about the altitude, told to drink plenty of water, and to go as slow as necessary until our bodies adjusted. The air felt cool in the mountains, almost chilly, but then the sun would beat down on us until we were sweating. Our guide was particularly knowledgeable about the natural medicines and herbs found in the mountains. I was enthralled by the St. John’s Wort, thyme, and lavender that grow wild there.

Sitting next to St. John’s Wort enjoying the views of the Simian Mountains

Each group is required to have an armed guard for protection from bandits in the mountains. Our group had two. The park seemed incredibly safe to me so having two armed men accompanying us seemed unnecessary. But then I found myself feeling so much gratitude and admiration for these men. They know the mountains like the back of their hands. They climbed expertly despite wearing plastic “jelly” sandals and worn boots with several holes.

Certain stretches of the mountains were covered with loose rocks. There was a period of time on our first day of the hike when I kept slipping. My feet kept finding the loose ones, and before I knew it I’d have lost my footing. One time, my foot slipped when we were on the edge of a very steep escarpment. I would have fallen off the side of the mountain if one of the scouts hadn’t grabbed the shoulder of my shirt. The entire hike, he never left my side. Every time I slipped he was there and he held my hand down the steepest mountain sides. He didn’t speak English, so we never communicated with words other than my sincerely saying Amesegenallo (thank you in Amharic) over and over. I thought to myself in some mixture of humor and gratitude, “Today my angel is carrying a shotgun.”

Today my angel is carrying a shotgun

The guards enjoying the view

Nighttime in the Simian Mountains is very cold. I was surprised to find that the guards slept outdoors with only their blankets thrown around their bodies. Many of them had holes in their clothes and no socks. At night, when we were sitting around a fire they insisted that we take the warmest seats. We refused adamantly until we realized that they would only take the warmest seats if we left, so we stayed only briefly and decided to enjoy their company during the day instead.

It wasn’t until we had finished the hike and were on our way back to the camp that we finally saw the baboons. A whole pack was crossing the road right in front of us.

Gelada baboons crossing

Gelada baboons grazing

A few weeks later when we were in Lalibela, we went on a day hike up the steepest mountain I have ever climbed. We were taken on the hike by Messay and Mengesha. Messay and Mengesha are brothers in their early twenties. They live in one room that serves as both living room and bedroom, but with no toilet or kitchen. They rent out their room on airbnb.com, which is how we met them. For 4 days their room was ours. Their meals mostly come from the owners of the complex who live in a house next door. When they have renters, they stay with their neighbor. The toilet facilities were a cement hole covered by a modest curtain out back. This may sound bleak, but Messay and Mengensha are 2 of the most gracious people I have ever met. They went out of their way to make us comfortable and we were in complete awe of their spirit.

They took us on the hike on our final day with them. The peak seemed beyond my ability level and I didn’t think I could make it. Many times I didn’t think it was worth it to keep going. I was humbled by the countless women and children we saw climbing the steep mountain with heavy loads on their backs and heads and, sometimes, with no shoes on their feet. I knew that even though I was tired, I could never complain. With everyone’s encouragement, I kept going and we reached the top.

Trekking up a steep mountain with a little help from my friends

Messay almost at the top

Mengesha making me very nervous with this jump shot

Enjoying a tea with Mat after reaching the top

It was totally worth it. There were the most sublime views ever and for the second time we saw baboons. But this time the baboon siting seemed even more special. There was a pack of about 100 baboons grazing in a field and we were able to get within 10 feet of them. And then the farmer whose field they were grazing in came out and threw rocks at them while yelling curses in Amharic. He chased them all the way down a mountain. The baboons ran away and hid on the side of the mountain as if they were waiting for the right moment to return We all laughed lots at the scene, but especially Mengesha and Messay who understood all the farmer’s curses.

I know that most people will say that the rock hewn churches of Lalibela are the major highlight of the city, but for me it was meeting Mengesha and Messay and completing the hike that I thought I couldn’t complete.

The rock hewn churches are nothing to sneeze at though. They are incredible feats in architecture and design, as well as a great testimony to the power of story. The stories of the King of Lalibela have remained unchanged for hundreds of years and the people’s belief in their veracity make up the fabric of their faith and general raison d’etre.

A quiet moment in one of the rock hewn churches

Skeletons of pilgrims who died after making a pilgrimage to the churches

It is truly amazing to witness people of my generation unaffected by logic and/or cynicism and willing to believe the stories of their people. I believe that it is this strong hold of faith that has gotten the people through periods of famine and that has allowed the nation to consistently defeat would-be colonizers.

However, I also know that religious conviction and a lack of cynicism can make people complacent. Indeed, there have been very few improvements to their way of life over the centuries. 90% of the people work in physically demanding agriculture with no modern machinery and youth unemployment is rampant. How does a nation reconcile these things?

While these questions swam about in my head, I began to feel impatient with Ethiopia. I yearned for familiarity. Everything in the country felt thoroughly foreign to me and I needed a reprieve. Our next country was Nigeria and I was anxious to finally be there with my family.

To top it off, I was beginning to feel sick. My skin and hair were constantly dehydrated from the dry mountain air. I had begun to get mysterious bumps all over my body (which we later discovered were a side effect of our malaria pills), and I had unexplainable stomach pains daily (also from the malaria pills). I began to miss my friends terribly. While I was interested in the places we visited, my mind was on the riots happening back in the states. I was angry about the police brutality and the subsequent acquittals related to Eric Garner and Michael Brown. I wanted to take part in what was happening in the states.

But there was no reprieve. We said goodbye to Lalibela and Mengesha and Messay and got ready to go to our final city in Ethiopia.