#debre markos

[africanasianchurches]

St. Markos, Debre Markos, Gojjam Region, Abyssinian Highland, Amhara State, Ethiopia

19. century, restoration work.

[waltertravels]

My Travels in 2014 - April 15, Debre Markos, Ethiopia

Painted Archway

I call it Debre Markos' "Arc de Triomphe" because it really looks like it. It sits on a hill just above the center of town and there is a park where locals seem to hang out. Behind this arch is Washa Mikael Church.

I assume it commemorates the surrender of some 14,000 Italian troops to a mere 300 members of the combined Ethiopian-Allied army in April 1941, a key event in the collapse of the Italian occupation and therefore ending the only short period of time Ethiopia was ruled by a foreign power (1935-41).

Somehow, I felt like experimenting a bit and to give the photograph the appearance of an old painting using Google's Analog Efex Pro (formerly NIK Software).

[hilldan]

Northern Loop Part 1

I figure that it’s only Quentin Tarrantino who can get away with not starting at the beginning, so I should start the story of my trip from the point of leaving Assela…

The journey to Addis was pretty painless, even got to see an obscure sculpture of a man sat under a tree with a penis on his head whilst stopping for lunch in Adama, so all good really.

However, the first weekend of the trip was timed pretty badly; As a result of the prime minister passing away a week or so before, Addis was in the middle of several events to mourn his death. So on arrival at Addis the normal route through the centre of town turned into a somewhat arduous trip around the edge of the city. Then, with “sky bus” (think national express) eventually booked for early Sunday, his funeral would also cause problems Sunday morning, having to walk 45 minutes around Addis at 4 in the morning wasn’t much fun – all thanks to a rather stupid taxi driver dropping off onthe wrong side of a closed Meskel Square.

Once Addis was a distant memory, it was simply a case of sitting back, trying not to panic as the bus slalomed up and down mountain switchbacks, taking in the view… which at points on the road between Addis and Debre Markos is stunning. 6 hours later and Debre Markos was the first stop on this epic journey.

Debre Markos is almost the northern version of Assela – whilst the difference wasn’t as apparent as real ales and odd regional dialects, there were certainly some differences, mainly to do with dress and haircuts. A lot of the young kids seem to have shaved heads with a clump of hair at the front, not just a fashion statement I’m told, but a way for god to pull them back to heaven if required. Another dubious fashion statement was the local rural gentlemen walk around town in shorts and a shawl type thing – basically it looks like they are wearing some kind of mini dress with wellies…

Day two in Debre Markos we went to tackle the gorge – a muddy half hour walk took us to the edge of the gorge, with a stunning view in all directions, green lands and a raging river courtesy of rainy season, and an uncharacteristic sunny afternoon, it made for a happy Dan. Until it was decided we should descend the mountain to see the monasteries and get closer to the river. Actually, the descent wasn’t too bad, despite the odd scary bit, although I was pleased to get back to the top after. Also met some really nice kids on route, by which I mean they didn’t ask us for money, or shout at us – they just seemed happy to show us their clay work and have a chat.

Next day involved a 3 and a half hour trip to Bahir Dar – what was nice was from Debre Markos we were able to effectively hitch a ride, following a conversation with some “brokers” they then chat with any cars coming through town to see if they had space, the upshot being a 100 birr car ride with some reporters on their way back from the prime ministers funeral. Much better (and quicker) than the bus, and the team (driver, cameraman, reporter) were really nice. On route we also saw snow. That’s right. Snow in Ethiopia. Who knew.

So: Bahir Dar. I’ve heard it described as “the Ethiopia Riviera”. Mainy, I didn’t like it. It’s a lake side city, although the areas where you can actually walk by the lake are few and far between, as developments seem to be blocking off the walkway. I also thought it felt shady, kids following you with an eye on your bag, lots of shouts of hey mister which made you put your hands in your pockets to ensure you still had everything. The prices of food also seemed to be a little high compared to what I’m used to. Putting that to one side, the next day the Blue Nile Falls were on the agenda, and despite the bumpy trip out there, it was worth it. With it being the back end of rainy season the falls, to quote a friend of mine who had been out there a week before, were “going off”. Really spectacular, and as is so often the case the photo’s don’t do it justice. As a side note, I wonder just how much more spectacular they were prior to the dam being built, not that I blame the government for building it, the hydro electric plant there produces power for a good portion of the country. Anyway, visit the start of the great river Nile – check.

This seemed to be the point where the stresses of this country got a little much. Me and my travel companion got tipped off by our friends in Debre Markos of a good fish restaurant by the lake. After a 10 minute walk we thought we should jump in a bajaj as it was some way away. The driver then said ten birr, drove for 30 seconds down the street opposite, and dropped us outside the restaurant. Grumpy Dan. We then ordered food, and proceeded to wait about 90 minutes for our food. Little in the way of an apology, no discount, and the fish was average (despite the silver foil being impressively on fire as it arrived at the table). Ordinarily I’d have left, but it was at the point of not knowing if there would be somewhere else to eat – All I could do is very grumpily wait and tell everyone I know who’s going to Bahir Dar not to eat at lakeshore restaurant.

Next morning it was off out on the lake to see the monasteries. Supposedly home of some stunning old art work, and incredible by their isolated location. Firstly, when I think monastery, I think grand old buildings, not wooden shacks smaller than some living rooms. Also, we knew we’d have to pay for each monastery, but it was only on arrival at the first one we were told tourist price was 100 birr each. At this point we refused to go in, particularly as the Ethiopian price was 30 birr, and thus the trip to the second monastery had me stewing and getting more and more angry at the way this country perceives white people – because it’s pretty much down to race; I’m white therefore I have money. Never mind that if I don’t have money in England I don’t have money anywhere. Never mind I work here and earn local (all be it a middle class local). And never mind that I’m giving up two years of my life to try and help this country develop. White = rich = tourist price.

On arrival at the second monastery, the fun started. I asked how much Ethiopian price was, and then asked the guy taking the money why I wasn’t getting that price when I live here, work here, eat the same food, earn the same money, have a residence ID. etc. etc. After some discussion the guy simply resorted to the stock line “I just get the money, I’m not the management”, so I told one the guy off the boat we needed to talk to the management… who happened to be the priest of the church. So, the guy begrudgingly explained the situation to the priest, who simply said “tourist price 100 birr”. I then asked the guy to ask the priest what the bible says about treating all men as equal… there then followed a lengthy conversation between the guy and the priest, and then I was told how the island locals donate every week but I’m only here once. Asides from the fact that the Ethiopians on the trip with us were not from the island, I was really starting to get mad at this point… I said I understand how donations at a church work, but that wasn’t my question, my question was what the bible said about people being treated as equal. The guy looked sheepish, and then said something to the priest, who then decided to let us in for local price. Now I’m really not a religious person, but if there is a god, then this little incident probably hasn’t endeared me to him I’m sure… although I’m also pretty sure he’ll need to review all those responsible for split level pricing at religious sites. I also need to quantify things here by saying it wasn’t a money issue, I’m sure if I’d just come out here for a holiday it would have been fine, it was just down to being treated different because of the colour of my skin – it happens day in day out one way or another, and some days it gets to you, and some days it really gets to you. I can’t imagine how other ethnicities who encountered the racism they did (or still do) in my country must have felt; It again makes me think if they forced western kids to do six months voluntary work abroad then kids in England might grow up a little different…

Anyway, after all that, it was barely worth the 30 birr and the argument, because the four sides of art were OK, but they were restorations, and they weren’t jaw dropping. Plus we got told on the boat back that if you’ve seen one you’ve pretty much seen them all in this area. As you can tell, not a good day… but a couple of beers that evening helped restore the status quo, and settled me down for the next leg of the trip…

…Anyway, that’s probably enough excitement for one week, so you’ll need to come back next week for how the rest of the trip went!