Greetings from Gondar

Hi all. The blog site does not upload fast enough and when I'm paying by the minute for the connection, I figure email is the way to go.

When I last typed I was in a tin internet cafe in Lalibela. After that, we went to our tour guide's sister's house for a cooking lesson. She lived a few minutes from the main town, down a dirt road. The area was Lalibela's version of a suburb - not urban, but not rural. The whole area is hilly as the town is located in the mountains. Eucalyptus trees line the paths. Her house was in a two-house compound, with a house on each side and a dirt area bout the size of half of a tennis court between. In this area was a laundry line, many chickens (who Henry complained were just too fast to catch), a row of firewood, and a cage made of sticks and leaves for the chickens.

Our hostess's name was Frehiwot, or Fruit Life in English. She used to be an English teacher so we could communicate - a welcome change since most in the town speak little English. Well, excepting the pack of kids that eventually surround us wherever we go who all want to practice speaking English so that they can get into university and become engineers. Anyway, having someone to speak to in English and actually have an exchange rather than just having people at the end of my camera lens was wonderful. She was also a strict teacher (my students would approve of me being made to follow orders) since as soon as we arrived I was given a bucket of cut up chicken to wash and a cutting board full of red onions to slice. It took several hours, but we manages to make a delicious Doro Wot, or spicy chicken stew. We sat around a big platter, eating together using our hands and the local flat bread, injera, as a spoon. Brad and I were told that the husband and wife are to share the chicken's stomach, so we did. Not something I think I'll crave, but at least I managed to swallow my half with a bit of dignity. It was much like chewing on a thumb-joint sized rubber band.

Our exchanges were incredibly thought-provoking. She was wondering why I only had one child and I could only reply that we liked having one and that it is financially difficult to have more than one. As I said this, I was also realizing that I was speaking to a single mother with four children. Frehiwot's husband was a soldier who was killed last year so now she relies on her brother to help her raise her children. Her house had two rooms for the five of them, with dirt walls and a single light bulb. All cooking is done over a charcoal stove. Who was I to talk about expensive?

Frehiwot was curious about the US and wanted to know what it was like. I explained that the chicken came already cleaned in plastic wrap, that there is no one traditional American food since Americans come from all over and we have no one national identity, but many identities tied together loosely somehow. How do you describe the materialistic, privileged life we have in the US to someone who's got no idea what it is like?

One cultural norm she wanted me to follow was dressing like a proper Ethiopian wife. She went into her bedroom (that also doubled for the living room and dining room) and pulled out a suitcase that was her dresser. Out came two long white cotton dresses and white shalls with colorful trim. She put one on me and the other on Jessica Lander (FSS grad) and then we were ready to eat. After many hours, a game of football (soccer) for Henry with the local boys, and FULL stomachs, we headed to our hotel, still in our white dresses.

We awoke this morning at 4:45 so we could get ready for Sunday mass at 5:30. This took place in the churches we'd been touring the past day and a half. The churches during the day have priests who stay in the churches and a few odd tourists, but are for the most part deserted. This morning was a different story. The whole town seems to have turned out, all dressed in white robes (or yellow for nuns). The churches were full of people chanting, and the courtyard was full of people praying. Some had prayerbooks and read, others looked towards the church. The rituals are a mix of Christian, Muslim and Jewish. The people would come to the church and prostrate themselves as Muslims do when praying and kiss the ground. During the praying there is Dovening (sp?) like Orthodox Jews. Many came right up to the wall of the church and kissed it and faced it, rocking, much like Jews at the Western Wall in Jerusalem. We were at least dressed properly, but nevertheless were fish out of water as we were clearly foreign in a sea of Ethiopians. We were tolerated, but not welcomed by most. It was a site that was amazing to behold and I can only imagine what it would be like during their Timkat holiday in January when pilgrims and tourists flood the place.

We then left Lalibela and took a 30 minute flight to Gondar, which is where I am now. It's another mountain town, but much more developed - the third largest city in Ethiopia with about 280,000 residents. There's a university and many businesses. Today we visited the ruins of many castles from the 1600s. Tomorrow we will visit a church with incredible frescos with Ethiopian angels, go to the market, photograph, and prove to our new tour guide that we really know how to make Doro Wot. We plan to go to the market to buy a chicken and cook for him - what DID I get myself in for?

Anyway, dinner awaits, I'm running up a bill. We're having a blast - Henry is an amazing traveler, Brad and I have taken hundreds if not thousands of photos, and we're building a lifetime of memories.

More soon!

cheers,

jenn