When I stepped out of the airport in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia’s capital city, I was greeted by the sweet earthy smell of the air, the commotion of the city, an unaccustomed style of clothing… I was in a land so far and different from home and yet felt at ease while buzzing with excitement for the journey ahead. I couldn’t believe I was in Africa!
Miraculous sunsets, arid mountains, rich in culture and history, and a love for dance, Ethiopia and its people are welcoming and hardworking. But as nice as it seems, the land is stricken with drought which jeopardizes food sources and propagates poverty. It is therefore important for these people to get support from organizations that provide them with a better living. Canadian Lutheran World Relief (CLWR) is one of such non-profit organizations that does a lot of work supporting farmers in high risk regions and finances other, more localized organizations.
CLWR organized an opportunity for Canadians to see the food security initiatives being implemented first-hand and to meet the people whose lives are being positively impacted as a result. I was selected as a youth ambassador to join the project tour along with a handful of others. The journey began in Ethiopia’s capital city, Addis Ababa, just in time for the nation’s Timkat festival. We then journeyed to Hitosa, Dessie, the Afar region, and ended in the old city of Lalibela.
Addis Ababa
While in Addis Ababa, we visited the renowned Holy Trinity Cathedral and went to the National Museum of Ethiopia – where the bones of Lucy, one of the oldest common human ancestors found to date, were on display! Exploring the capital was fun, but even better was experiencing the Timkat celebrations.
Timkat is big national holiday in Ethiopia. It’s an orthodox Christian celebration for epiphany – the baptism of Jesus. As we explored the city, there were school kids singing and dancing in the streets being cheered on by clapping crowds. The city’s buildings and roundabouts were decorated with banners in the colours of the national flag: green, yellow, and red. In contrast, everyone wore white clothes to symbolize the holy baptism and new beginnings.
We went to the central location for the city’s celebrations. As soon as we stepped out of our vehicle, we were swept away by the current of people until we managed to clamber into a fenced area. Within that area were performances of traditional dances and a stage where the archbishop of Ethiopia sat with several other important people I didn’t know. Beyond the militia-guarded fence were hundreds of Ethiopians dressed in white clothes, I couldn’t believe my eyes! Around the perimeter of the fence stood men on podiums with hoses, spraying water onto the swarm of people who surrounded them, like a firefighter trying to extinguish flames. The peoples hands were reaching out towards the water, some were even trying to collect the water in bottles. I thought they were thirsty so I went over to the fence and gave someone my water bottle. But to my surprise, they grabbed it, dumped out its contents and held the empty bottle towards the hose. It was then that I realized the hose water was a form of baptism to celebrate epiphany and the bottles were a means to bring the holy water back to family members who weren’t able to attend the celebrations.
After experiencing the excitement of Timkat in the heart of the city, several of us decided we wanted go to a viewpoint that overlooks the city. As we began the ascent with our driver and guide, we had no idea what was to come. We drove through the city, passing apartments and crowds, until we reached a busy roundabout adjacent to a beautiful blue-roofed mosque. We encircled the roundabout and turned right. After a couple minutes, we discovered the road was blocked by ongoing festivities, so we had no choice but to turn around and go back to the blue-mosque roundabout. We went around and tried the next road. We soon found out this road was also blocked, so once again, we drove back to the blue-mosque roundabout and tried the next road, hoping this road would finally allow us passage up the mountain.
After driving for awhile it came to no surprise when we slowly rolled to a halt. But this time there was so much traffic around us we couldn’t turn around. Our guide jumped out and disappeared into the commotion of cars and people. Stuck in the mayhem, a big red bus crawled up beside us, and within minutes, the side of the bus facing our van was packed with people – everyone shifted to get a better look at the rarity of us white folks, it was pretty amusing.
We were in standstill for quite some time, until finally our guide reappeared. He instructed our driver who then squeezed our van into the far-left lane of the road. Much to everyone’s surprise he then drove over the median and started barreling into oncoming traffic! In the last second before impact, we swerved down a narrow alleyway, centimetres from scraping the cars parked on both sides. We were all holding our breath as our van was just barely making it through. Then, just as things couldn’t get worse, a bus appeared from around the corner in the alley up ahead and was headed straight in our direction! There was no where to could go, but fortunately there was an opening of space around the upcoming curve, so as the bus backed up we were able to just barely squeeze by. We all let out a sigh of relief as we came out of the alleyway unscathed. We finally made it out of the maze and commotion of the city and were on our way to the viewpoint. We drove along forests of eucalyptus trees, passing singing people and horses adorned in beautiful cloth.
When we arrived, we all agreed the viewpoint was well worth the journey’s tribulations. I could see the expanse of the city in the valley below, bordered by distant mountains. It was beautiful. The drive back to our hotel had only one unsurpassable road blockage due to an ongoing festival. Instead of waiting in the van for it to be lifted, we made the most of the delay and joined the celebration.
Hitosa
Our first time experiencing the countryside was on our way to Hitosa, a town situated just outside of Addis Ababa. From the highway I saw the rise of mountains from beyond the dry plains of land. There were many goats, donkeys, cows, and every now and then we’d pass a herd of camels. On our drive, we also passed many dwellings made of concrete walls and corrugated steel roofs, resembling those I had seen in the city. In the village, however, houses were made of mud walls and straw roofs.
Upon driving into the village, people would at first stop and stare but then returned our waves and smiled enthusiastically. A bunch of school kids even chased our van! When we arrived at the project office of the CLWR-funded Hitosa Value Chain Project, some community members gave us a presentation with a status update. Afterwards we experienced our first coffee ceremony in which coffee, or buna, was prepared for us in the midst of burning frankincense and then served along with popcorn and roasted wheat. After the ceremony, we got to see the fruition of the funding first-hand: a water dam was built for irrigation purposes that stretched 2 km to neighbouring farms, providing farmers with the water they needed to grow their crops and nurture their livestock.
The Afar Region
Our next stop was the Afar Region. In our little plane with propellers, we flew over desert valleys that contained large, arid gouges into the Earth that were once meant for rivers. We eventually landed in Dessie, at the small, one-roomed airport building. We grabbed our bags and hopped into Toyota Land Cruisers to make our way out of town. As we drove, we were greeted by the surrounding lush green vegetation – a very welcoming contrast to the desert we had just flown over. But the relief of seeing green was short-lived, because once we were out of town and off-roading we were driving back into the heart of aridity, where only clusters of brown leafless trees stood.
After three hours of driving on a dirt road, we finally arrived at the Telalak camp in the Afar Region. It was situated in what looked like the middle of nowhere. The surrounding landscape had gentle slopes and trees dispersed throughout but no other nearby dwellings in site apart from those in our camp. They consisted of a couple buildings and some tents, encircled by a wall of thorned branches, presumably to keep the hyenas and roaming cows out. While staying at the camp, we ate delicious stews with injera, an Ethiopian flat bread made with Tef, which is one of the first grains to be domesticated.
We stayed in this area for several days and got to see the impact of the projects being implemented by the CLWR-funded organization: Support for Sustainable Development. One of such projects was a large dam which partitioned river water into a canal that could then be used to foster an abundance of vegetation to the land. A plot of land that would otherwise lay waste to drought, was now flourishing with onions, peppers, papaya trees and so much more!
As we went around visiting projects, we were greeted by locals who were shy at first but then eventually came closer and even showed us their homes! They had round homes that were made from mud, straw, and cloth. Within the home was a stove, a small shelf, and an elevated wooden bed, made to provide protection from snakes. The longer we stood talking to the people with the help of our translator, the more people suddenly appeared and joined us, I had no idea where they all came from! Some of the men were casually carrying AK47s, which is something that took a bit of getting used to. Others had cell phones, which looked out of place, but goes to show that technology has a way of seeping through to many different lives.
On our last evening, we watched a man plow his field with a furrow and two oxen as the red sun nestled behind the distant mountains. It was the best sunset I had ever witnessed. As nightfall settled, the entire community gathered around our campfire. They celebrated our last evening with a series of tribal dances. The men yelped like the calls of hyenas as they danced, proudly carrying their AK47s while the women encircled them. Their shuffles and stomps were mesmerizing to watch as I sat there in awe. I couldn’t believe I was really here, experiencing this. I was shaken out of my stupor when I was suddenly pulled in to dance! In the midst of the moving bodies and the swirls of dust in the air, I rejoiced with these people under the blanket of stars above.
Lalibela
Our final destination was Lalibela. Here we saw the impactful projects from the Lutheran World Federation (LWF), an organization that works in partnership with CLWR to provide food for work programs, garden plots, and dam infrastructure. On the way to our first project site, we zigzagged up and down the sides of mountains in our convoy. It felt like we were on an adventurous quest. When we arrived, we looked down into a river gorge to see a group of people working to build a water diversion. When they saw us, they came up to greet us. After talking with them for a bit, a man came over playing an instrument and the group joined in song and dance. After the little celebration, one of the community members led us to his garden. It was quite large, with peppers, tomatoes, and lots of cabbages! Afterwards, we drove to visit a tree nursery where 50,000 seedlings are annually grown with an 87% success rate. It was amazing to see the life-changing work being done in such vulnerable areas, and to meet the people whose lives are being improved.
Lalibela is not only known for its beautiful landscape, but also its monolithic churches. Monolithic means built from one rock, in this case they were built out of the hillside, from the surface down into the rock. Built in the 12th century, these rock-hewn churches are recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. After removing my sandals and covering my head with a shawl, I stepped into the cool interior of the ancient church. It felt like I had portalled back in time. There were inscriptions on the walls that were somewhat covered by paint from the Italians who had tried to colonize Ethiopia long ago. As I walked along the narrow stone hallways, I felt the smooth texture of the ancient walls, while imagining the historical events that these walls have witnessed though the time of their existence.
Our departure from Lalibela was celebrated with an evening at the LWF office, beginning with a coffee ceremony. I sat on the floor of the round brick building sipping at my coffee as I watched swirls of frankincense dance in the light of the windows. Beyond the window frame I could see parts of the village below, surrounded by mountains. Later on, we had dinner which was accompanied by two men playing drums and a man playing the masenqo, a violin-type instrument with only one string. Afterwards another two men started to dance, rapidly moving their shoulders up and down, as was a traditional Ethiopian dance move. It wasn’t long before I joined in, and found myself in an unintentional dance-off.
The next morning, we were leaving this mountain town and its wonderful people behind. We were headed back to Addis Ababa in order to catch our flight home. I was happy for the all the memories I made but was sad, knowing that my time here had come to an end. Ethiopia has left a lasting impression, it’s so different from all the places I’ve been to. Here I saw the important work being done by pivotal organizations such as CLWR and got to hear stories from people themselves whose lives have been positively altered and given new hope for the future. It felt surreal to have had all these experiences, and see with my own eyes how people here live.
Our group visited Ethiopia just before the country had experienced one of its worst droughts in 50 years1,2. As climate change continues to wreak havoc, people living in fragile environments, such as the arid regions of Ethiopia, are most vulnerable to devastating food shortages. It was with a heavy heart that I left this country, knowing there was so much more that needed to be done in order to promise these people a future they deserved. We all need to do our part and support people who aren’t able to support themselves. Together, we can make a difference!
If you’re interested to learn more about Canadian Lutheran World Relief (CLWR), I encourage you to visit their website. If you also want to read a bit more about my time in Ethiopia, you can visit a short blog post I wrote for the CLWR webpage.