Sunday, September 1, 2019

By George, We Did It

St. George Cathedral ቅዱስጊዮርጊስ  ቤተክርስቲያን

In case you've been wondering why things have been a little quiet on the blogging front, it's because we spent last weekend unpacking, sorting out and finding places to put all the things that arrived in our unaccompanied baggage and the first part of our household effects (the second part of our HHE, plus our consumables, are scheduled to arrive in Djibouti sometime next week. From there, they will be trucked to Addis Ababa አዲስ አበባ, where hopefully Ethiopian customs procedures will proceed without a hitch, and the last of our possessions will arrive at last at our new home. The same goes for our car). The sun came out for a brief moment last Sunday afternoon, and I took advantage of that window of sunlight to take a few photos from our third-floor balcony. In the distance can be seen the Selam Mosque, about one kilometer (0.6 miles) on foot from our house. I suspect it's this mosque that I can hear just after 0500 every morning sounding its amplified call to prayer, but I can't be too sure as Google Maps shows several small mosques in the area as well. There are also a couple of churches in our neighborhood that aren't exactly the quietest of neighbors, either:


There also appears to be a stockyard in the distance:




With most of the boxes unpacked, it was with great anticipation that I looked forward to getting out and seeing some of the sights of Addis on Saturday afternoon. As usual during this rainy season, the skies opened up and water came pouring down as my daughter and I were waiting for a taxi to take us to the Piazza area. We were driven through the deluge and soon reached our destination, St. George's Cathedral and Museum:


Dedicated to Ethiopia's patron saint, the church was commissioned in 1896 by Emperor Menelik II ዳግማዊ ምኒልክ to commemorate his stunning defeat of the invading Italians at the Battle of Adwa አድዋ that same year. Construction of the octagonal church was finished in 1911 with the assistance of Armenian, Greek and Indian artists. The only way to see the interior is with a guided tour, whose services are included in the admission price. Our guide was very informative, and spoke English very well. He pointed out the paintings of traditional Ethiopian instruments...:


...and this drum, in which the wider end represents the New Testament, with the other end of course symbolizing the Old Testament:


Nearly all Ethiopian Orthodox churches contain a replica of the Ark of the Covenant contained within the altar, and which can only be seen by priests and deacons. It's a deeply-held belief among Ethiopians that the Ark itself was spirited out of Jerusalem in the 10th century BCE and is today kept safe in the Church of Our Lady Mary of Zion in Axum አክሱም. Of course we all know the Ark is actually hidden away in a massive U.S. government warehouse:



These murals are the work of the celebrated Ethiopian artist Afewerk Tekle. Our guide was impressed I'd heard of the country's most celebrated designer, painter and sculptor:



The church was the site of two coronations, those of Empress Zewditu ዘውዲቱ in 1916...:


...and Emperor Haile Selassie ቀዳማዊ ኃይለ ሥላሴ in 1930:


The mural at the bottom depicts Selassie's famous speech at the League of Nations in 1936, condemning Italy's use of chemical weapons against his people during the second Italo-Ethiopian War. The speech failed to unite the world against Italy's aggression, but Bob Marley used the words for his famous song, "War". Our guide was also impressed when I pointed that fact out to him:



The "fascists" (as our guide referred to the invading Italians) set fire to St. George's in 1937, partially destroying the church. It was restored following the end of World War II, which is when Tekle was commissioned to paint his murals:


The admission ticket also includes entry to a small but very interesting museum, which holds items such as crosses, crowns, scrolls, ceremonial umbrellas and the coronation robes of Zewditu and Haile Selassie, with the guide providing brief explanations. Unfortunately, photography isn't permitted inside the museum. We did, however, purchase this small item, the first of hopefully many mementos of our time in Ethiopia:


Just in front of the museum stands this statue of Abune Petros አቡነ ጴጥሮስ, the Patriarch of the Ethiopian Church, who was executed by an Italian firing squad in 1936:



The grounds of St. George's Cathedral are a surprisingly tranquil oasis of calm from the chaos and noise of Addis Ababa's traffic. One exit from the church grounds leads to Menelik II square, dominated by a statue of the emperor astride a horse. It was sculpted by the German artist Carl Haertel for Empress Zewditu in 1928; Mussolini had it removed and placed in a secret location in 1936, but it was put back in place in 1941 after the Italians had been driven out of Ethiopia by British forces:



The church and museum are well worth a visit, and I'd be glad to take any visitors there (obvious hint). In the meantime, Amber and I used an app to hail a taxi to drive us to a supermarket not far from our residence, but not before first having a cup of coffee and pondering the meaning of it all at Tomoca. Not the one we visited a couple of weekends ago, but a branch within walking distance of our house:


A typical city involved in a typical daydream...:


And on the way back home, naturally we had to stop and have some gelato:



Sunday - a weekly newsletter we receive described a "New Year Sale" at the Jupiter International Hotel, featuring "home accent, fashionable accessories, cloths, bags, vintage collection and many more eco-friendly products". This peaked Shu-E's interest, so on Sunday morning we arranged for a taxi to take us to the hotel. While we were waiting for the cab to arrive, I checked out some shop windows. For sale was this dress, appealing to the fashion-conscious student of the Amharic language አማርኛ:


My wife used the time to pop into a cafe and purchase a bag of Yirgacheffe, produced in the central southern region of Ethiopia. Shu-E is planning to travel to Taiwan in November and is looking for some possible souvenirs to bring back with her:


We arrived at the hotel expecting to find tables staffed by vendors, with foreign tourists and residents poring over the wares on sale. The reality was a little different - it turns out the sale was being held in one shop on the second floor of the hotel, and we were the only customers there:


I couldn't go home empty-handed:


With noon approaching and stomachs rumbling, Shu-E consulted Google Maps and discovered a Chinese restaurant nearby, and so off we went. Along the way we passed this Pizza Hut outlet, one of at least five in Addis Ababa. Nevertheless, the city is surprisingly free of Western chains and franchises - no McDonalds, Starbucks et al. I have seen signs for Home Depot and In-and-Out Burger, but they're not the real deal, thanks to lax intellectual property rights laws here:


The surprisingly small headquarters of the Ethiopian Football Federation. Soccer is the most popular sport in the country, but the national team is currently ranked at a lowly 150th place in the current FIFA world rankings, with 43 other African countries ahead of it in the standings. Ethiopia may not be a soccer powerhouse, but I intend to get a national team jersey before we leave in two years' time. I'm also interested in picking up a jersey of a local club or two, such as Ethiopian Coffee S.C., which seems to be the most popular team in Addis, judging from all the team shirts being worn around town:


Arriving at the China Natural Restaurant:


The pearl milk tea 珍珠奶茶 tasted more like chocolate milk with tapioca balls added to it, but the food was surprisingly good, especially the tofu dish my wife ordered. Shu-E chalked it up to the restaurant having a Chinese owner, with the several Chinese customers showing up while we were eating also being a good sign:


And like it's been doing at some point everyday but one since we arrived in late July, it rained in the early afternoon, heavily at times:


A coffee ceremony display at the Jupiter International Hotel, where we returned once the rain eased up to wait for our taxi back home:


Today (Monday) is Labor Day. Being a U.S. federal holiday, and myself being a U.S. federal government employee, I have the day off. My daughter, being a student at an international school which only observes Ethiopian holidays, had to go to school this morning as usual. Being the rainy season, it rained most of the morning, so I annoyed my wife by "helping" her around the house. Following lunch and a (brief) let up in the precipitation, I decided to go for a long walk, much to Shu-E's relief. My intended destination was the Tiglachin ትግልችን Monument (or "Derg Monument", as it's referred to on my GPS), a 50-minute walk that took me through what would be considered some rather dicey neighborhoods in a North American context, but which are perfectly fine in Ethiopia (that isn't to say I would pass through them in the middle of the night while staring at my iPhone and fanning myself with 100 birr notes). I didn't take any pictures of the neighborhoods as I'm not comfortable photographing people without their permission, especially those living in conditions of poverty. I have no reservations, however, when it comes to cattle grazing in a field, with the buildings of the African Union Commission የአፍሪካ ህብረት ኮሚሽን ዋና መስሪያ ቤት rising behind them. TIA:


Ethiopia is in the midst of a building boom, with construction making up 18% of the country's GDP for the 2017-8 financial year. Construction projects can be seen everywhere in Addis Ababa, with the work usually being done by Chinese companies (and workers):


The Tiglachin Monument is the only remnant of Ethiopia's time under a Marxist dictatorship that I've seen so far. It was constructed by the infamous Derg ድርግ (which ruled the country from 1974 to 1991) in 1984 as a memorial to Ethiopian and Cuban soldiers who took part in the 1977-8 Ogaden War. The pillar stands 160 feet (50 meters) high:


The central statue depicts three armed people (two men and a woman) in heroic Socialist Realism pose. It was donated by North Korea and manufactured by that country's Mansudae Art Studio, responsible for many affronts to good taste, both in the DPRK and around the world:



To the right of the statue is a wall relief showing the Ethiopian people being guided by the former dictator Mengistu Haile Mariam መንግስቱ ኃይለ ማርያም, who is currently in exile in Zimbabwe:



To the left is another wall relief, showing the revolutionary process in Ethiopia:


It begins by depicting Emperor Haile Selassie ignoring his people suffering from hunger. There's more than a grain (no pun intended) of truth to this depiction, as it was His Majesty's government's inability to deal with the devastating Wollo famine of 1972-4 that helped lead to his overthrow in September 1974 (and murder the following year):


On both sides of the wall reliefs are photos of Cuban soldiers killed fighting in the Ogaden War. From the mid-1970's to the late 1980's, thousands of Cubans were sent by Fidel Castro to fight on several fronts in Africa. As with Americans in Vietnam and Soviets in Afghanistan, it was a needless waste of life:


According to the Wikipedia entry, the monument is suffering from neglect. However, there were a lot of people enjoying the greenery and solitude this afternoon while I was there. Next to a statue of Marxist comrades looking longingly into each other's eyes, one group appeared to be doing some replanting:


The Tiglachin Monument may be a monument to the Marxist struggle, but situated in the heart of the city's financial district, it would appear capitalism is currently winning:


A selfie in "honor" of the struggle, which resulted in the deaths of between 1.2 million and 2 million Ethiopians during the time of the Derg:


It was while walking home from the monument that I was "befriended" by a gentleman who first asked me if I wanted a map of Addis Ababa; then mentioned a "very good" souvenir shop nearby that I should patronize; followed by a cafe where local students were putting on a cultural show, and which included one "very beautiful woman". After that, he offered his services as a tour guide, before finally asking me if I could "loan" him some money. He didn't seem too pleased when I continued walking, even after I wished him "መልካም ቀን" ("Good day!"). TIA...

A suk ሱቅ is a small shop that sells things for daily life - my wife buys eggs from one around the corner from our house. Parked in front of this one is a Lada taxi not affectionately known as a "blue donkey". They're cheap and ubiquitous, but we're not allowed to use them. Not so much for crime concerns, but because quite simply they (and their drivers) aren't very safe.

Sunday, August 18, 2019

It's *Buna Time in the Piazza!

Passing by the Tiglachin ትግላችን ("Our struggle") monument in a taxi. This Derg ደርግ-related structure is a memorial to Cuban and Ethiopian soldiers who turned back invading Somali forces in the 1977-8 Ogaden War. It begs future exploration...

The best-laid plans of mice and men.

The idea on Saturday was to visit the most famous cafe in Ethiopia, but not before first having lunch in the vicinity. Perusing my Lonely Planet guidebook, I settled on a place called the Reizal Café, about a nine-minute walk from the coffeehouse. According to LP, the "slick modern cafe speedily (italics mine) serves" various international dishes "to a fashionable, young crowd". The latter part of the description is accurate, but the former didn't exactly jive with our experience on Saturday afternoon. The female server who seated us took our order: a pepperoni pizza and a bottle of Ambo Mineral Water for me; an order of spring rolls and an Ambo for my wife; and a tuna melt and a cup of hot chocolate for our daughter. A little while later, a male server came by to inform us that they were out of the meat-filled spring rolls, hot chocolate and Ambo; Shu-E opted for the veggie spring rolls and a cup of coffee, Amber a bottle of regular water and your humble scribe a Coca-Cola. More time passed, and the drinks and my wife's spring rolls arrived. The waiter returned later to confirm my daughter's tuna melt order, which eventually arrived after another lengthy wait. I was beginning to worry about my pizza, and after almost 75 minutes of sitting I called another server over and re-ordered my pizza. The pizza finally showed up at our table, but in all it was an unintended two-hour dining experience. Next time I'll take Shu-E's advice and not rely on guidebooks when it comes to choosing places to eat.

Looking on the bright side, the pizza was pretty good, and the total bill came to only 289 birr ($9.89). Plus there was free entertainment. Not once, but twice, groups of musicians entered the cafe to perform tribal music and dancing. I wanted to video the performers, but was afraid that doing so would obligate me to pay them (some customers were giving them money). My wife, on the other hand, was less than pleased by the intrusion. Already uncomfortable from the exhaust fumes she inhaled on the cab ride from our house, the loud music (including the blaring of what sounded like a vuvuzela) only added to her discomfort (the bitterness of the coffee didn't help). Finally, at the end of our meal, the rain was pouring down outside, as the second group of musicians/dancers waited for the skies to clear up. We should've done the same, but Shu-E didn't want to spend any more time inside Reizal:


The cafe may have been a letdown, but Tomoca ቶሞካ ቡና lived up to the hype. There are several branches all over town (including one about a fifteen minute-walk from our house), but the 1953 Italian-style cafe on Wawel Street is the original:


Amber poses with some coffee plants outside Tomoca. It's beyond the scope of this humble blog to dive into the importance of coffee in Ethiopia's culture and economy. Suffice it to say the country is where the Coffee arabica plant originated; coffee makes up a third of Ethiopia's exports, and Ethiopian coffee production accounts for 3% of the global market. And then there's the **coffee ceremony:


My wife and I both ordered the regular coffee, at only 16 birr (55¢) for a cup. It was very bitter, but adding sugar as the Ethiopians do made it more palatable:


The cafe is standing-room only (no tables). By the end of my shot, I was hooked:


The interior is small:



Beans are for sale but Shu-E wasn't interested in purchasing any. There's still plenty of time:


Following a brief look around Book World መጽሐፍ ዓለም, one branch of a local bookstore chain featuring speciality English-language titles on Ethiopia (had it had a copy of The Addis Ababa Massacre: Italy's National Shame in stock, a title I'd previously come across at Washington D.C.'s Politics and Prose, I might've made a purchase), we returned home by taxi in the late afternoon. A scene from the cab window - I don't know what the modern building is in the background, but to the left you can glimpse the tracks of Addis Ababa's አዲስ አበባ light rail system, the first of its kind in sub-Saharan Africa:


Despite the weather, the traffic, the crowds and lunch, I had a pretty good time on Saturday. It was our first occasion to venture into the capital's Piazza district, an area the legacy and architecture of which "are owed to the Italian occupation" of 1936-1941 (to paraphrase my now somewhat-maligned LP guide). My long-suffering wife may be finding Africa a little overwhelming at the beginning of our tour; I, on the other hand, am still in that initial stage where everything is exhilarating. Our daughter, being at the beginning of her teenage years, is content playing with various devices and waiting for school to begin.


Stairs. The other side is even more interesting in that it appears to be joined to the building being erected next door

Shu-E and Amber amble down a residential street in a neighborhood filled with upper-class houses and diplomatic residences. Not our ሰፈር, in case you're wondering...



A brief but intense storm rolled through on Sunday evening. This is what it looked like from the front (top) and back (bottom) of our house

* Buna ቡና, the Amharic word for "coffee"

**Speaking of the coffee ceremony, an extremely abridged version was demonstrated during orientation day at my daughter's new school: