Situated inland in the horn of Africa, bordered by Somalia, Eritrea, Sudan, Kenya and Djibouti, Ethiopia is a fascinating land than many know next to nothing about. Also known as the cradle of humanity, due to the discovery of Lucy, the oldest human skeleton aged 3.2 million years, Ethiopia is mainly "famous" in the Western world because of the famines, especially the one between 1984 - 1986, which affected more than 8 million people. A predominately agricultural country, Ethiopia is still at the mercy of rainfalls.
However, the richness of its culture and the breathtaking natural sceneries, more than make up for its possible lack of modern commodities which may very well put off the over spoilt today's travellers.
Which of course wasn't the case of our charity trekking group, ready to face any challenges the country, the weather or our own limits may have thrown at us.
Day 1
Arriving on a Saturday early morning after a 7,5 hrs overnight Ethiopian Airlines flight, we were quickly introduced to the hustle and bustle of Addis Ababa (meaning New Flower in Amharic, the most widespread Ethiopian language), which, at first glance, seemed to be a bit too much to take in... Busy streets, mules crossing the streets, a little bit too Communist buildings, people sleeping on the pavement, lots of local "entrepreneurs" selling their merchandise off a blanket on the sidewalk, many half finished constructions and above all the dust and the heat.
The visit to the market in Addis was a bit of a scary experience, overcrowded,smelling of fumes and spices, almost a huge creature with millions of heads and pumping hearts, ready to eat you in, never to be seen again... But most interesting it was the things that they were selling at the market, including empty plastic bottles and used raffia sacks, used spare parts, chains and lots of plastic crockery... Not much that I would have bought to bring back as a souvenir... I must confess that my second visit to the market, on our last day, was less of a shock and more of an enjoyable experience as I had grown to like these Ethiopian people so much that watching the people going by or getting rid of the two lads selling me African toothbrushes (which literally were carved wood branches used to refresh the smell and clean the teeth) was actually a heart filling thing to do.
I must admit that it wasn't much I knew about Ethiopia before my visit. Perhaps only that the Emperor Haile Silasse was the one who inspired the Rastafari movement in Jamaica after his visit there and that Ethiopia was considered the sacred land, the Zion for all the rastafari followers. Perhaps faint rumours of the Queen of Sheba and king Solomon reminded me a bit of what used to be Abyssinia and that the Simiens were apparently a must see. Other than that, a lot of ignorance of my part... I wouldn't recommend going to Ethiopia without a local guide. They seem not only extremely knowledgeable but also very excited about sharing as much as they can about their country, which they all seem to be very proud of. The Ethiopians are proud of their heritage, of their glorious past and of their independence over the years. They have a huge smile on their faces which is extremely contagious, but above all, they are rare beauties. Both men and women have a specific face bone structure, with high sculptural cheek bones, big brown eyes and a skin colour to make anyone green with envy. They are all slender and athletic as if born to be strong and ready to achieve excellence. I also became interested in learning about their history, their brave and majestic kings such as Tewodoros, Yohannes and Haile Sillasie and about their overwhelming cultural heritage, thirst which has been diligently fed throughout our trip.
Day 2
Breakfast at candlelight and packing guided by flashlight. Thank God I didn't forget anything at the hotel in Addis. Everything in my backpack was an essential item for the trekking ahead, I couldn't have afforded to leave anything behind...
Due to lack of resources, electricity cuts seem to be quite a frequent occurrence in places in Africa. Somehow I managed to forget that the same happened in Romania when I was growing up. Now, how easy it is to take things for granted...
We were going to leave for Gondar, spend another day getting acclimatised before saying good bye to civilisation for the next 4 days. A short flight with a small Ethiopian Airways plane and couple of hours later we were descending to the city of Gondar, famous for its impressive castle ruins and for being the birth place of one of Ethiopia's most famous kings, Thewodoros, who shot himself rather to surrender to the English. According to our guide, a famous armour is still displayed at the British Museum and Ethiopians want it back. I promised myself I'd go again to the British Museum and look for it.
Gondar is full of blue tuk-tuks, a rather touristic place (though still not many Europeans in sight...) and a continuous source of awe. After visiting the "Camelot of Africa", the royal palaces starting with the palace of King Fassilidas, and a wonderful lunch at Dashen Brewery where we enjoyed a pint of the freshly brewed Ethiopian beer, we went on to visit the oldest orthodox church in Gondar made surprisingly of mud and straw and holding on proudly to its original mural paintings. I am only sorry I didn't get to see an actual sermon, full of chanting and strange ceremonies as we were told. On our way out, we were lucky enough to see a loud Ethiopian wedding which strangely reminded me of the Romanian weddings...
Day 3
Our first day of trekking started with a 4 hours bumpy ride from Gondar to the Simien National Park. In Ethiopia and especially in the Simiens, roads are still being built and a feeble start of a sustainable infrastructure is being attempted. Thus, we were jiggled on the long drive over cobblestone leaving clouds of dust behind us as if we were in fact sometime at the beginning of the 20th century. This road, however, was our only access to the Simiens and after a short lunch break, we began our first day of trek from the Simien lodge, accompanied by Tash, our wonderful guide, two scouts employed by the National Park and a couple of helpers with a horse and a mule to carry extra water.
Passing through various changes of scenery, it was impossible to hide our amazement and awe. As far as the eyes can see, reddish volcanic formations were displayed to our sights' content as if they were in fact temples built by an alien civilization. They seemed so perfect and surreal, almost extra-terrestrial. This is how I have probably imagined how other planets looked like and yet, all this was now in front of me, as real as anything else.
Passing through, we had our first encounter with the famous local Gelada Baboons (also known as the Bleeding Heart Baboons) and spent a good period of time observing those interesting creatures that absolutely loved the attention.
Just before dark, we arrived at our first camp site, where our tents were already erect and our main luggage already waiting for us. After a cup of tea and a delicious dinner prepared by our resident chef, we all headed down to our tents, exhausted after a first day of walking and looking to hide as quickly as possible from the freezing cold, which did get down to 0 degrees C during the night. My first night in the tent went pretty well, managing to sleep through most of the night, but waking up with a semi-paralyzed face that only started to feel like a normal face after washing with a bit of warm water left outside by a caring hand.
Day 4
My second day of trekking has also been the hardest. Oblivious to the fact that I might be affected by altitude, I chose not to take altitude sickness prophylaxis tablets and I ended up having difficulties breathing and experiencing headaches. As we marched, the scenery changed slowly into a red dust desert-like setting and breathing became even more impaired as dust insinuated into our lungs with every step we took.
During the first part of the day, we ran into another group of baboons, minding their own business by the river, but towards the afternoon though, human presence became accentuated the closer we were getting to a village. By the time we got to the village, my lungs were desperately crying for air and desperation became greater when finding out that we were only half way through to the camp site, which became the end goal of every taken step. Skinny, dark, bare feet children of all ages appeared out of nowhere and started a “hello” saying contest. Trying to respond to all those “hellos” meant we had to give up climbing as the air was never enough… And that wasn’t really an option, as we had to make sure we arrive at the campsite before dark.
My strength was leaving me and by the time we finally managed to get to the camp, I started feeling feverish and getting cold shivers. By dinnertime, all I wished for was to get through the night. Which turned out to be probably the worst night of my entire trip…
Day 5
The morning of the next day I wasn’t feeling well. I was still shivering, wearing no less that four layers and my ski jacket. At that point I was convinced that I will fall ill but I carried on walking. Slowly and struggling, but I carried on walking. It wasn’t as if I had a choice… It wasn’t as if I could have picked up the phone, call sick and lie in bed all day, feeling miserable. All I could have done was to carry on walking.
Soon enough though, I started gaining strength and my ascension wasn’t as painful as I feared. The higher we went, the colder it got, so kept most of my layers on, except for the ski jacket.
Every once in a while we’d reach a peak which allowed us to embrace with our gaze most of the scenery below and no matter how often that would happen, we would still burst with amazement in “wows” and “ohs”.
I have long time ago realised that no matter how well crafted, painted, projected or built a work of art is, there simply is no comparison to the perfection of the greatest creator: Nature. Perhaps because we stand astounded at the sight of something so magnificent and beautiful which perhaps wasn’t even created with intent (think about volcanic formations, erosions etc.), we are left breathless. Perhaps because it reminds us of how small we really are… Or because we simply understand that we are part of a Universe that lives and breathes and carries on without us, if we chose to ignore it, living our lives as if there’s nothing more important than our selfish little selfs… Perhaps that’s why when I saw Sagrada Familia I was so touched – because it doesn’t try to claim the human superiority but rather kneels in front of the greatest artist of all times: Nature… To me, Sagrada is homage to Nature…
Here I was standing in front of something far greater than even Sagrada… Miles and miles of red mountains resembling ancient pyramids…
But before I was even able to take in all that, I found myself surrounded by giant labellias (beautiful plants resembling palm trees, which only grow at high altitudes) scattered across a scenery that made me wonder if I haven’t magically been transported via a parallel universe gate to a desert…
The desert soon changed into a dangerously looking path that would scare anyone with a freight of heights. I must confess I am one of those people that when looking down from a dangerous spot gets the vertigo (or at least thinks it). In this case though, I couldn’t afford that. I had to carry on without looking down and making sure my foot is grounded at every step I took. That dangerous march seemed to take forever, but before dark we made it to the next camp…
I’d like to talk to you a bit about the stars… I often wonder if we are actually on the same planet, as depending on where I am, the sky is always different. I have never seen so many stars on the sky in my entire life… The sky was made of black velvet (you could almost feel its tenderness) and millions of crystals were scattered everywhere as if the sky was the most expensive ball gown… It was so amazing that it was almost scary… I planned on lying down on my back and just look at it intently until my gaze hurt, but the cold made that impossible. I had to throw a quick glance, take yet another deep breath and rush into my sleeping bag… There was more walking to do…
Day 6
The actual last day of our trekking was planned to be an 800m climb up to the peak of Ras Bwahit (14,500 ft). At times steep and stoney, the asscension proved to be the most difficult yet. Breathing was becoming almost an impossible task and yet filling my lungs with more and more air with every step I took, kept me going. They say that during hard physical effort, people tend to talk to themselves and repeat mantras to keep them going. All I could think about was making sure to take in the next breath of air. Soon, it felt as in a different dimension, getting slightly dizzy and really starting to wonder if I'd make it to the top. We were working against a deadline and not making it to the top by 10 am, meant having to go back no matter where we were... For that we had to wake up erlier than usual and walk in the dark with the help of flashlights until the sun came up.
I really wanted to get to the top. If I didn't, all that effort meant nothing. Just one more step, just one more breath... When I finally made it to the top, I felt pure happiness. Congratulating eachother on the top of the world, I felt tears in my eyes and they were some of the happiest tears I've ever shed... It may have been the result of the physical effort, or maybe the team work that this challenge has been, perhaps I felt incredibly lucky for having experienced something of such importance, for the blessing of having set foor in Ethiopia or all at once, but I was incredibly happy.
I knew I was never going to be same after this. I knew I wanted to do even more... As much as I could...
