Ethiopia’s rich culture, steeped in history

THE final streaks of sunlight are fading on a warm summer Sunday, but instead of flipping hamburgers in my backyard, I am standing in the backyard of a man flipping shanks of raw meat to a dozen wild hyenas.

Ethiopia’s famous “hyena man” beckons me. Moments later, I am crouching on the ground, cheek to cheek with Derge (pronounced “de-REG-eh”). He grabs a hunk of meat from a basket and places it on the edge of his lips. Within seconds, a wolf-size blur of brown fur and fangs approaches hesitantly from about 6 feet away, then lunges toward us. The hyena sinks its teeth into the food, tearing it from Derge’s lips -- 8 inches from my face.

I gasp for breath as my guide, Endale Teffra, a native of this 1,000-yearold walled city, chuckles. He has just snapped a photo I will treasure forever.

It is Day 7 of a 10-day tour through Ethiopia, a cultural, religious and historic crossroads unlike any other in Africa. Take the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which appears to be a blend of ancient religions and pagan beliefs; add the Queen of Sheba and the ruins of her reservoir-size bath from the 10th century BC; top them off with the capital, Addis Ababa, its squalid slums within sight of the only five-star hotel in the country, and you begin to glimpse the depth and diversity of Africa’s only sub-Saharan nation that has never been truly colonized.

Ethiopia, almost three times the size of California, has taken conspicuous strides toward modernization, at least in the capital. In Addis Ababa, the renovated Bole International Airport is spacious and easy to maneuver.

For many people, Ethiopia conjures up images of sad-eyed children with stick-thin limbs, distended stomachs and flies in their eyes, images from the nation’s 1984-85 famine that killed more than 1 million people.

“When drought and famine struck Ethiopia, Americans were the first to arrive with relief aid as the great contributors and life savers,” says Hapte-Selassie Tafesse, who in the 1960s and early ‘70s was the nation’s first minister of tourism. “They should come and see that all that has not been without gratitude or in vain.”

One does not vacation in Ethiopia to see lions and elephants or for many Western comforts. Those interested in wildlife should take in a safari in Kenya or one of the many other African countries catering to the desire for “shooting big game” (with telephoto lenses, please) and the amenities that resorts offer.

The resort approach to travel through East Africa spares visitors from children haranguing them for ballpoint pens (a valuable school supply) or disfigured adults begging for spare birr, the Ethiopian currency. But you also miss experiencing the sights, sounds and tastes of the “melting pot” of Africa.

I am introduced to one such taste -- both familiar and foreign -- the moment I arrive in Aksum, the nation’s former capital. (It’s now Addis Ababa.)

At the hotel, I am greeted with an invitation from the owner to a traditional coffee ceremony. For the next 90 minutes, I savor an irresistibly potent, rich brew. Beans are roasted, then ground by hand, brewed in a decorative pot over a small charcoal burner and served in a demitasse cup as the bittersweet aroma of incense fills the room. It is a wonderful way to relax and discuss with my guide our plans for the next few days.

Aksum, with its downtrodden hotels, shops and bars, doesn’t reveal much religious or cultural heritage. But imagining the past is not difficult at the Northern Stelae Park, a collection of ancient obelisks about half a mile from the center of town.

Each is constructed from a single piece of granite and symbolizes the power and authority of one of the country’s many rulers. Some are carved with impressions of windows, doors, even doorknockers.

Less than 100 yards away is another park with a green chapel surrounded by a tall wire fence and a locked gate. Legend holds that the church contains the original ark of the covenant, which, according to the Old Testament, was built to hold the tablets of law that God gave to Moses.

However, only local holy men are allowed inside the courtyard and the chapel, raising the question: Is the ark really there?

An inquiry to a priest receives a terse response: “Yes, it is inside.” The message is clear: Don’t annoy him or embarrass yourself by asking to see the ark.

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Faith built of stone

IF Aksum has a history shrouded in mystery and folklore, then Lalibela is a breath of fresh air for visitors, figuratively and literally. This community of about 9,000, perched at 8,000 feet in the rugged Lasta Mountains, is home to what many believe is one of Africa’s most incredible man-made creations: 11 churches carved out of solid bedrock in the 12th century. Each church is unique and offers visitors a glimpse into rules and rituals of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church.

Amid high ceilings and murals filled with artists’ renditions of wide-eyed icons, priests and parishioners sing and chant to music provided by drums and sistrums (rattle-like noisemakers with loosely held rods). Priests periodically step out from the “Holy of Holies,” a special room only they can enter, to walk among the faithful with candles and burning incense, or to read from a holy book. At the conclusion, priests stand at the doorway and bid the faithful goodbye, touching each head and heart with an ornate cross.

Through my interpreter, I learn that the elaborate, 800-year-old solid gold cross in the Bet Medhane Alem (Savior of the World) church, the largest of the 11 structures, was stolen in 1997 and recovered by customs officials two years later from the baggage of a Belgian art dealer. The cross, weighing nearly 15 pounds, reportedly once was the personal property of King Lalibela.

According to folklore, Lalibela was directed by God in a dream to construct the churches. Angels, I am informed, were brought in to work the swing shift, so all the churches could be finished within 100 years.

This priest, as well as virtually every other one posted in Lalibela’s hand-carved churches, has the tourist routine down: Answer a few frequently asked questions, then pose majestically for photos with a cross against a backdrop of colorful murals. Most priests, in the best Jack Nicholson tradition, wear sunglasses to protect their eyes from flashing cameras. I feel compelled to tip them a few extra birr, even after paying the requisite admission fee.

The most moving experience of my three days in Lalibela is thumbing through an 800-year-old Ethiopian Orthodox book. Brightly painted images of the Christ child, the Virgin Mary and assorted saints and angels adorn the left-hand pages; small, hand-written script in Ethiopic, an ancient language still spoken by priests and holy men, fills the right.

Cut from goatskin parchment, the pages are slightly uneven, emitting a faint aroma of incense mixed with a musty odor of sweat and dust. The edges are worn and blackened from daily use by the priest and his countless predecessors at the Na’akuto La’ab church, a 12th century structure at the entrance to a cave a few miles outside town.

The past and present come together in Bahar Dar, a city of about 100,000 on the southern shore of Lake Tana, which is about five times the size of Lake Tahoe. On the veranda of my hotel, precious little weaver birds -- known for their basketball-size nests -- dart back and forth between tables, looking for leftover crumbs from freshly baked rolls. These early-morning breakfast companions nibble next to my plate, but efforts to get them to eat out of my hand fail.

Later that day, after a seven-hour excursion on the lake to visit 16th through 18th century monasteries, the pilot steers our small motorboat toward a river whose muddy banks slope down several feet into dense reeds. That tributary, about 50 yards wide, serves as the source of the Blue Nile, which flows several hundred miles to Khartoum, merges with the White Nile and then flows through Sudan and Egypt, finally spilling into the Mediterranean Sea.

He cuts the engine and the noise suddenly gives way to serene silence. “Look, right there,” he says in deeply accented English. I grab my binoculars but don’t need them. Barely 10 yards away are seven hippopotamuses, including what appears to be a newborn.

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A city of mosques

AFTER returning to Addis, I board another plane and depart for Dire Dawa, a dusty, dreary town, for a one-hour drive to the 1,000-year-old walled city of Harar, defined by its rich Islamic culture and nearly 100 mosques. Acclaimed travel writer Paul Theroux, in his book “Dark Star Safari: Overland From Cairo to Cape Town,” describes Harar as “one of the great destinations in Africa, for its exoticism, its special kind of fanaticism and its remoteness ... unique in its languages and customs.”

Exotic? Certainly. Fanatic people? Some. Remote? Absolutely. Worth the hassle? Definitely.

It’s easy to believe local claims that Harar is the fourth holiest Muslim city after Mecca, Medina and Jerusalem. It has the most mosques per square mile of any city in the world -- 99 within the 1 1/2 square miles of the walled town -- and eight more in the sprawling community outside the wall.

“According to Muhammad, we are the people of the book,” says Abdusamad Idris, a Muslim and sociologist who once served as secretary-general of the Harare region, speaking of the Koran. “We in Harar believe that one is obligated to make a friend of your neighbor, even if he is an unbeliever.

“We have an old saying, ‘Share happiness and sadness -- do not grieve alone.’ ”

There is much to grieve over -- and to rejoice about -- in Harar.

My guide, Endale, leads me through narrow alleys to a Koranic school. Children, seated three or four to a desk, are exuberantly singing songs. Their instructor, a bearded man in his 60s, uses a wooden tablet, probably like that of his predecessors during the last 1,000 years.

At Ras Tafari House, I see the home of former Emperor Haile Selassie; it’s now occupied by a holy man who doubles as a healer, sleeping by day and, according to a hand-scrawled sign out front, curing by night anything from cancer to hemorrhoids to mental illness.

As this American leaves Harar, I wonder how an estimated 130,000 Muslims and Christians in this city have peacefully lived side by side for generations.

More than a year later, I’m still grappling with that question, as well as many others about this impoverished land, that is rich in history, culture and natural beauty: Does the ark of the covenant still exist? And, if so, was I only mere yards from it? Why does that man risk his life every night to feed wild hyenas?

The answers to those and many other questions, as Tafesse, the former national tourism minister, says, lie somewhere in Ethiopia’s “checkered, illustrious and tumultuous history.”

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(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

A tour of religions, culture and daily life

GETTING THERE:

From LAX, Virgin, British, United and Lufthansa offer connecting service (change of planes) to Addis Ababa, via EgyptAir. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $3,419.

TELEPHONES:

To call numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (the international dialing code), 251 (country code for Ethiopia) and the local number.

TOURS:

Eagle Travel, 115-528-234, e-mail yeshua@ethio net.et. Arranged my 10-day tour of Bahar Dar (Lake Tana), Lalibela, Aksum and Harar. The cost, including hotels, food, admission to historic sites, ground and air transportation and tour guides, was $1,200. The only additional charges were for phone calls, alcoholic beverages and tips.

Ethio-National Tour & Travel Operator, 11-552-6622, www.ethiopiatourandtravel.com. Another well-regarded agency. Prices vary depending on itinerary and tour size. U.S. contact, Kebede Weldemariam, (703) 979-1543.

LODGING:

Most lodging in the four historic cities is considered medium to upscale by Ethiopian standards. By U.S. standards, however, it would be rated one star. In Addis Ababa, the two nicest hotels:

Sheraton Hotel, Taitu Street, P.O. Box 6002, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia 1164; 11-517-1717, www.starwoodhotels.com.Doubles from $170.

Hilton Hotel, Menelik II Avenue, Addis Ababa 1164; 11-551-8400, www.hilton.com. Doubles from $120.

MONEY TIPS:

There are few ATMs in Addis Ababa. Some banks allow travelers to obtain cash with a credit card. The most convenient location for currency transactions is in the lobby of the Sheraton. The process takes about 20 minutes, and there is a 10% fee. None of the businesses outside of Addis Ababa accepts anything but birr, the national currency. The birr was recently trading at 9 per $1 U.S.

TO LEARN MORE:

Embassy of Ethiopia, 3506 International Drive, N.W., Washington, DC 20008; U.S. tourists must have a visa. I obtained mine from the embassy several weeks in advance. Cost is $70. (202) 364-1200, fax (202) 587-0195, www.ethiopianembassy.org.

-- Dean R. Owen