Katie Prescott

Entoto Museum, Addis Ababa

As I wrote last month, I was recently asked by Hailesilassie, the curator of the Entoto Museum, to help locate the whereabouts of a voice recording of Emperor Menelik and his wife that allegedly lay in the British Museum.

Hailesilassie had read  that Queen Victoria had requested the recording, and he was desperate to obtain a copy for Entoto’s collection. The museum is dedicated to the Emperor who was the founder of Addis Ababa, and the man responsible for uniting Ethiopia.  The recording would really bring to life the small collection of Menelik’s possessions which make up the museum.

Amazingly, Ami Jones who is currently seconded to the Ethiopian Ministry for Education and his Father have found the recording filed in the British Library (rather than Museum) in London.

As Ami is based in Addis, he hopes to present it to HaileSilassie personally as a surprise once the wheels have been set in motion in London.

John Mellors of the Anglo-Ethiopian Society sent me the following email, which sheds more light on the subject:

“The story of the Menelik recording is told in a paper by Prof Ullendorff “Emperor Menelik’s phonograph message to Queen Victoria”, SOAS Bulletin, 32 (1969), 251-6. It’s been reprinted a few times and I’ve got a copy somewhere – I’ll try to find it for you. The recording is very poor but he managed to translate most of it. A copy was given to Haile Selassie during one of his visits to the UK but I can’t remember if this was why Ullendorf (who taught Amharic, Ge’ez and other Semitic languages at SOAS) translated the recording. I gather that it’s very difficult to understand what is being said but a couple of our members, one Ethiopian, listened to it recently at the BL and found it fascinating”

The Tigrai region is peppered with hidden churches and monasteries.  To satisfy my romantic desire to explore them, we walked up into the Lasta Mountains to visit Ashetan Maryam.  This monastery is a two hour hike to 3150m above sea-level, up from Lalibela which is set at 2630m.

When we finally approached a door set in the cliff face, the never-ending walk suddenly felt worth it. As entrance fee was paid to the priest – who must have seen us coming for miles – and we walked up through steep stone steps through the cliff, to come out by the main church, which was hollowed out inside the mountain.  The courtyard was open to the sky – it had been cut to be like a box with no roof.

As in each religious place we’ve visited, the priest opened up the wooden shutters to let light flood into the stone building.  He then selected some of the church’s treasures to show us – including a 14^th century saints book written in Ge’ez, King Lalibela’s cross and prayer stick.  A prayer stick is made of bone or ebony, and used to prop up worshippers during ceremonies which can last up to 2 hours, for which congregations are expected to stand.

During the long descent we saw scores of men and women making the long journey to villages up the mountain, carrying heavy sacks of grain on their heads.  Although by Ethiopian standards Lalibela has a lot of tourists, it doesn’t seem to have benefitted the region yet. It is still one of the poorest regions of Ethiopia.  Perhaps tourism here has not grown or brought wealth to the area as quickly as expected – certainly most of the new, luxury hotels that we saw were empty.

The site of Saint George’s church, part of the Lalibela complex, looks like a jagged cleft, but on approaching and standing over it, the crack reveals a perfect pink cruciform.

After the completion of 10 of Lalibela’s churches – the legend goes that Saint George visited King Lalibela to chastise him because none of the churches were dedicated to St George, the head of the saints.  In response, King Lalibela built one of the most exquisite churches in honour of Saint George, whose horse’s hoof prints are said to act as steps down into the site, a reminder of his visit to the King.

View down into St George's

Entrance to St George's

The church is set away from the others, a sign that it was built later.  It is a slightly conical shape, with a thick base.  This suggests that the workmen had learnt from the construction of the previous churches.

Hoof prints

This ‘new Jerusalem’ was created by King Lalibela in the 12^th century at a time when Jerusalem was under Islamic occupation.  The names, down to the River of Jordan and Bethlehem are taken from the holy city.  Despite being one of Ethiopia’s main tourist attractions, the town still feels very remote, and as it is a 2 day journey from Addis Ababa, inaccessible.

According to legend, the King was visited in a dream and told to build the complex of 11 churches which are cut into the pink volcanic rock of the Lasta Mountains. Workman (or angels, depending on who you speak to) would cut around a jagged space around a block deep into the hard stone.  Once the block was isolated (either completely, or with the walls still attached to the stone), it was carved into a beautiful church.

Locals and priests say that this work was accomplished in a mere 23 years.  Scholars dispute this, saying the stonemasonry is in keeping with the many other rock-hewn churches in Ethiopia, and as such would have taken place over a longer period of time. Neither view detracts from the extraordinary result.

The churches are accessed through a series of tunnels, unexpected entrances and underground steps which twist and turn on one another.  Crosses and signs decorate the churches which hint at a mysterious past, perhaps linked to the Knight’s Templar.

Lalibela remains an important place of pilgrimage for Ethiopians.  Although the priests wear sunglasses to protect their eyes from the flashes of tourists’ cameras, it is not a museum.  Worshippers come here every day and the site is flooded with people during religious festivals. The ‘fertility pool’ which opens each Christmas is prized as particularly potent.  Apparently one disbelieving faranji tried it and subsequently gave birth to 5 children.

Inside the stone churches have matted floors to protect worshippers’ bare feet.  Unlike the elaborately painted monasteries we saw on Lake Tana, the interiors of the churches in Lalibela were relatively simple.  Adornments and patterns were cut into the stone around windows and pillars, with occasional friezes covering the walls.

Lion of Judah pattern on rugs covering a church floor

Each church was so carefully constructed; it was easy to forget that they were carved out of rock.  Even more amazing was how well preserved the complex is.  Apart from the ugly white structures UNESCO put up covering the church chasms, Lalibela felt untouched since its construction.  It made me more curious to visit some of Ethiopia’s even more remote rock churches – some of which are so high in the mountains that they can apparently only be reached by rope.

The lady in a long white dress stood in front of us, hands on hips.

Faranji come to Ethiopia-a-a-a-a-a

(Dun-dun-dun)

Maybe they come from America-a-a-

(Dun-dun-dun)

And then a line in Amharic which had the audience grasping their sides, and Musbah pulling up his shirt to cover his red face.  It made us desperate to understand the singing! What was she saying about us?

The night of my birthday we went to a small pub where azmari singing was taking place. Sometimes described as ‘minstrel singing’, it is a bit like rhyming, sung stand-up comedy.  A female singer and a man accompanying her on the masinko (a stringed instrument) circle the room together, picking their victims from the audience and singing a song about them – particularly if they are tall, short, fat or of course faranji.

In between the singing, we tried to dance the Eskista or shoulder-shake, adding to the hilarity in the room, to the encouraging TSSSKKK TSSKKK sounds from the lady.  The laughter was infectious, it was a brilliant evening out, despite being the butt of most of the jokes!

Masinko

A short hop from the castles, is Fasilidas’ pool.  It is a huge empty swimming pool, the walls swallowed by tentacle-like tree roots and lichen.  As with most cities in Ethiopia, Gonder has a huge problem with water shortages.  Yet judging by the grubby postcards being sold at the door, it is still used for occasional religious ceremonies when the pool is filled with water and priests gather round it.

The walled castles of Gonder are the centrepieces of the old capital of Ethiopia (Addis Ababa became the capital in 1896).  They were built in the 17^th century after a period of religious conflict in the country, which saw the Muslim Harari governor Ahmed the Gragn chasing the Ethiopian Emperor from city to city – a fugitive in his own country.  To support their Christian fellows, the Portuguese sent troops to the Emperor’s aid.  But with the troops came Jesuit missionaries.  In 1622, Emperor Susneyos converted to Catholicism and decreed that Ethiopia must follow suit.

Thousands of Ethiopians were persecuted for following their traditional beliefs which caused uproar in the country.  In 1632, Emperor Susneyos was forced to resign in favour of his son Fasilidas who consolidated his power by settling his capital in Gonder – it’s mountainous position (2,200m above sea level) in the heart of trade routes and away from the malarial Lake Tana making it an ideal location for an defensible city.

Stables

To prevent any further Catholic conversions, foreigners were banned from Ethiopia for more than a hundred years from Fasilidas’ accession.

His successors each added to Fasilidas’ castle complex.  The architecture shows signs of Portuguese and Indian influences, with the distinctive Star of David insignia throughout, indicating the royal family’s holy lineage.

Gonder University graduates celebrate in the grounds of the castle

Empty lions’ cages served as a reminder of when the royal family kept the king of the beasts under lock and key as a sign of their strength.  Apparently lions were kept here until 1991, when they were moved to the Lion Zoo in Addis Ababa by animal rights activists.

Lions' Cages

Most of the castles are in fantastic condition. The few piles of rubble that sit amid the buildings were caused in 1941 by British bombardment of the Fascist Italians who were using the castle as a base.  We were shown one of the guard towers that they turned into a latrine.

The destruction has now stopped and the castles have been declared a World Heritage Site – with restoration currently underway by UNESCO.  Guides with perfect English are drawn from the local university, who use the castles as a springboard to walk tourists through Ethiopia’s fascinating history.

The views across the mountains made you feel on top of the world.  Our climb to 3,900m was never a straightforward ascent. We struggled up and down soft grass verges, narrow rubble paths and through rivers as our guide led us from one incredible ‘viewpoint’ to another.  I read somewhere that the Simien Mountains were known as the chess pieces of the Gods and it is true that the rock formations resemble the singular shapes of carved figures.

At points we were so high the sensation clutched at our stomachs as we peered over the edge into the frothy clouds below. And when the mists were high the mountains steamed like volcanoes.  We would walk through white clouds into glorious sunshine, from blank white to never ending views across the valleys.

To my surprise, there were many villages in the mountains, and we came across several shepherds and farmers on our treks.  Young children approached us selling woven slingshots, the traditional mountain hat (a stiff, helmet-shaped woven hat with a short bobble on the top) and cups made from horn.  Our scout knew many of the shepherds we met who smiled kindly at our struggles to climb the mountains they so effortlessly roamed over.

Gelada Baboon

One of the most incredible sights was the troupes of gelada baboons that move through the park – distinctive for the red heart shape on their chests.

The drive up into the Simien Mountains from the nearest town of Debark was terrifying. The unpredictably weather had meant there was a complete white-out, and we could not see more than a metre ahead of us.  Our driver hooted throughout our slow ascent, scattering people, cars and cattle aggressively out of his way. After an hour of nail biting turns, we arrived at the first camp site where the mists swirled round us as our cook prepared our meal.

Sankaber Camp

The next morning, standing around while 10 people debated how many men and mules we needed to carry our mountain of bags was embarrassing. At the centre of this argument was an elderly gentleman with a weighing scales, receipt pad (an Ethiopian staple) and a pen. Clearly the man in charge. Our guide was carrying a small rucksack, our scout was carrying his rifle and a red woolly hat and our cook had a headscarf and a miniscule bag to rival our guide’s. Liz, Musbah and I ended up with a convoy of 4 mules and men to accompany us from camp to camp.

Our guide and scout

It is obligatory to take a scout to the camp, to protect you from the animals. He was a local farmer (we met his young son on his travels) who supplements his income by working with people who want to visit the park.  Despite carrying a gun, he told us that he’d never killed anything. He had only used the gun once to fire into the air to break up a fight between some local villagers. The gun didn’t look like it would be much use in a confrontation with a leopard, I’m not even sure it was loaded.  He was a lovely man, and with not a word of each other’s language we managed to communicate through smiles and chocolate.

Our scout, Baze

Our guide was one of only two female guides, out of a total of 40 who work in the Simien Mountains.  She was only 20, and unlike her three sisters, was unmarried. “Can you imagine doing this job if you were pregnant?” she quite rightly said – she certainly couldn’t have scrambled up cliff faces in her goat like manner anymore. She explained that most women in Ethiopia get married young – although the new age restriction of 18 has changed this slightly.  She described herself as the independent exception to a culture which still encourages early marriages.

Our guide

The final member of the team, the cook was a luxury.  But when we came back from a long hike up a mountain, the tea, popcorn and biscuits she set out on the grass of the camp was the most important part of the day. We handed her the ingredients we had bought in Addis Ababa, and with clever additions of wild thyme and perhaps some chicken stock (I was never quite sure) she served up hot soups and tasty rice each evening.

St George and the Dragon

Many of the stories depicted on the walls of the monasteries are of Ethiopian saints. Some of these are very familiar.  England and Ethiopia share their patron saint; Saint George, and the monasteries are covered in the familiar image of the mounted saint slaying the Dragon.  The Virgin Mary is called Saint Mary in Ethiopia, and her image is one of the most popular in the churches.

Saint Mary

Some saints are less familiar. Christianity here is meant to have been spread by 9 Saints from Syria, who each established a monastery in a hard to reach place.  This includes Abuna Aregawi. God sent a python to lift him high onto a plateau where he founded the famous monastery of Debre Damo.

St Yared

St Yared – the patron saint of music – is regularly depicted.  The story goes that he left school without finishing his studies, and sat under a fig tree watching a worm trying again and again to crawl up the tree to reach the fruit.  Eventually the worm succeeded.  This inspired Yared to persevere with his work.  He wrote Ethiopia’s first hymn book, the music of which can still be heard in taxis throughout the country.

Belai the Cannibal may not be a Saint per se, but he is often pictured as an example of Saint Mary’s mercy.  A horrible cannibal, he ate everyone in his path, including his own family.  One day, he came across a leprous beggar who begged him in the name of God for some water.  ‘I don’t know God’ Belai replied to him. The beggar then asked him for water in the name of Saint Mary.  Belai remembered this name, and gave the beggar some water (he wouldn’t eat him – he had leprosy).  When the time came for Belai to be judged, Mary begged that he was spared – and he was allowed a place in heaven.

Belai gorging himself