Lalibela
The past week has been spent in Lalibela. Today was a relatively good day, in fact so good that it almost seems as if something is wrong because of the troubles of the early week…. My soft box has stirred quite the controversy in this small “holy” place. The main ‘priests’ at the tourist office wanted $1000 birr to enter the church complex. This is to go straight into their pockets, I’m sure. There are no rules about this equipment, and they wish to rip me off. I refuse to pay this, not because I don’t have it, or I’m cheap, but because I’m taking a hit for all future photographers who wish to shoot there… No God damned way I say in this place of worship. We got the police, complained, and demonstrated the equipment to the main tourist office whom of which had no problem with the soft-box and wished us well for bringing it and promoting tourism in the area. They phoned the priests at the ticket office and still they refused to listen to their superiors, or the police. That’s how this country goes. The police are more like crossing guards. So we’ve been sneaking into the church complex, getting kicked out, returning, arguing, bribing, etc. Our luck has been much better outside Lalibela in the remote rock churches. Here, the priests and monks are generally cooler, not money-driven and more easy going. They are happy to see us.
Above image- Lalibela’s armed guards finally discovery my “entry ticket” is really just a potato chip receipt.
Yemrehanna Kristos church
Joey- “This is kinda like Indiana Jones, isn’t it?”
Ryan “This is probably one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen in my life”
Today at Yemrehanna Kristos church, I photographed a monk surrounded in corpses. He explained to me they were pilgrims, mostly from Jerusalem. There were over 10 000 skeletons at one point, but now it is hard to say since they have been decaying over the years. Whatever the debated number, I can describe it only as wading out with my camera into a sea of skeletons. I tried my best to be respectful and not go into the parts the monk warned me not to, staying on wooden boards and tombs… but every once in awhile I would hear the crunch of a bone under the pressure of my weight, or feel my hand brush against the smoothness of a human skull. The monk was very patient with me, and I feel I captured a moment in time I never thought I’d see in my life.
I am assulted by fleas every night and despite my efforts with the flea spray, I still get quite a few bites.
Abuna Aron
We trekked to a place I heard about by word of mouth and was not in any guidebooks. It is called Abuna Aron, and is known to be a remote cave church lived in by three monks. The most notable point about the church is that it has a mysterious beam of light which shines down for a few minutes a day only. It is located in the roof of the cave and allows light in, but yet no rain water ever leaks in. The local villagers see it as an extremely holy place for this reason, and worship there. It was extremely difficult to reach. We drove many hours from Lalibela to the nearest spot we could then walked across 2 mountains and a valley (with all the equipment) and made it to the church. With my luck, the light beam was shining at it’s strongest point and we had about thirty minutes to shoot there. I shot a shot a real young deacon there, who was extremely interesting and got along with very well.
Debre Damo
Today we had a great day shooting at Debre Damo. It is located up a cliff face in which you must climb up a 17 meter rope being pulled on a cow hide rope by a monk. Every year at least someone dies, says Anteneh. This year, it wasn’t me. The monks were totally chill and I got some great photos outside the church on the cliff face. No women are allowed, not even female goats or cows. The funniest part of the day was when Ryan asked “wait… how do they get all these cows up here?” Anteneh said “rope” We didn’t believe him so a visiting priest (not a monk, obviously) showed up a cell phone video of a cow being hoisted up by rope. Hilarious. I love Debre Damo, I would very much enjoy to visit again.
Abuna Yemata Guh
Visiting the rock church Abuna Yemata Guh is one of those experiences I will never forget. It was probably the most grueling climb out of all the Monk’s homes we have visited. There were no ropes to help us up like Debre Damo, and 90 degree rock walls several meters
high to climb with only small toe-holds to hold onto. As you can imagine after a climb like this, the reward is once you finish. An other-worldy view of two enormous cliffs to both our right and left, surrounding us. When I see things like this, I always know I will never be able to capture their awe in pictures or film, so I always make a point to sit down and soak it in greedily for myself.
You know it’s really different here in the North. Instead of having too many subjects in a general area, you have very little subjects you must find yourself. It’s like the ancient Chinese legends of climbing a mountain to find a wise man, except you have to do it with pounds and pounds of equipment. Some times you climb these huge cliffs for hours to find a little wee man living in a cave, humbled to see you.
“Hey Joey, you know how in movies when they show a desert, they always insert that hawk screech sound. Yeah, well I just heard that but for real,” says Ryan. The hawks swoop past our head.
“Hey Joey, I found some skulls down here! Check it out” Screams Ryan from the other side.
The wind picks up, I hop over a ledge and admire the remains of pilgrims and holy men who have visited the site years before me. Perhaps one day when I’m fed up with the industry, tired and weathered I will come back here an old man. It will take me even longer to get up the rock face, but I will eventually make it. I will sit in the same spot I did when I was 19 years old. Perhaps I won’t ever come down, and my skull too will rest there.
Abba Yohannis
Today the realization came to me that I would be taking no more photos on this trip. We finished the last day of shooting at Abba Yohannis, a monks church located halfway up a mountain. Our driver had said “but why do you want to visit Abba Yohannis, not many people are going there…” That’s exactly why I want to visit Abba Yohannis! I thought the place was spectacular and photogenic. We gave the monk a ride into town in our minibus after the photo shoot so he can visit the market. I interview him in the vehicle and probe him with questions about his life. On the way we pass an old tank frozen in time from an Ethiopian war.
After we drove right back to Aksum to catch out plane into Addis Ababa. Then we killed some time being jerks, and here I am on the plane now. My writing is messy because we are taking off.
Epilogue by Ryan
As the trip is coming quickly to an end (5 days left) and the countdown until we are home gets smaller and smaller, I notice myself making a conscious effort each day to try and “take it all in” as much as I can. I notice the new things/ways of life that Joey and I love started to grow accustom to. Things that a month ago would have been something to quiver or laugh over and now it’s just an every day to day experience. It’s funny to say but we both agree we will probably have much more culture shock returning home than living here in Ethiopia. I can’t get over how used to being stuck in “traffic” I am now due to a herd of cattle, a group of monkeys or a gathering of nomads rather than a 30 car pile up or road construction. Even the small every day things like bathing and using the toilet will be a shock to our systems upon arriving home. I mean, no more washing in a river with the Mursi tribe? Or hopping out of the car on the road hoping to find a nice bush to shit behind? Although the comforts of home will be an easy, welcome change they will be quite a shock im sure.
– Ryan
We board the plane and say goodbye to Anteneh. I tell him I will miss him, and I mean it. Everything is surreal as our little taxi heads to the airport down the same streets we feared when we first drove down them almost 2 months ago. Now they are like home and we’ve grown used to the sights, it will be our home that shocks us now.
Our plane stops over in Amsterdam at 5:30am in the morning, we have an 8 hour stop over but it’s not spent in the airport. It’s not spent smoking dope or getting with Red Light District women either, we meet our good friend Will (you might recognize him from the Moldova blog post). God answers my prayers and we find a Mcdonald’s and wait patiently for it to open…
The food tastes so good in my mouth, but it isn’t as great as I thought it would be. For a moment the craving was satisfied, but then another something inside me changed and grew unsatisfied… This was much deeper and more powerful than a fast food craving. I realized I would be taking no more pictures, and the trip was over. I’d rather have a bowl of rice in Ethiopia over this shit food any day.
Pleasantly yours,
Joey L
