Lalibela

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  Lalibela, Ethiopia
Thursday, December 8, 2005

We were two of five passengers waiting at the airport that morning. A 30 person propeller plane landed and taxied close to the building. The security officer came up to the café where we were drinking tea and told us that it was time to go. We walked across the tarmac, boarded and took off 30 minutes before the scheduled time of departure. Soon we were flying over the mountains between Gonder and Lalibela. We could look down and see the serpentine road hugging the cliff sides. This was the scariest part of Ethiopia from what a New York cabbie had told us in Addis.
The drive from the airport followed the curvy bank of a dried up river, then upwards towards the top of the rift. On the way we passed lines of farmers- women, men children and donkeys, all carrying bags of good to sell at the town market. It was Saturday, then main market day of the week. The airport was 31km downhill from the town, and watched people walking it the entire way.
Easily enough we found a hotel with a nice courtyard and hot, private showers. We dropped our bags, ordered hard boiled eggs (any thing without oil please.) and coffee for breakfast. Afterwards we headed to the market.
Lalibela is situated at the top of a large rock outcropping looking down into valley in the Lasta Mountains. The Saturday market is busy and interesting. One can buy grains, livestock, fruit, vegetables, spices, clothes and sandals made from tires. It was full with people hustling around inspecting goods and bargaining. We wandered through the stalls snapping off photos from the hip, trying to capture candid shots.
The thing that makes Lalibela most famous, even a pilgrimage site for many, is its series of rock-hewn churches from the 12th-13th centuries.

market

Twelve of the sunken monolithic structures stand and have been in use since they were carved. One guide that we met told us that they estimated that there are eleven more somewhere lost in the area. One ticket grants admission to all of the churches for the duration of your stay. That evening we visited two of the churches just before they closed.
Standing at ground level, the churches can not be seen. They have all been carved down into the red stone and lay in great chiseled out pits. Each one was completely free standing of the rock around it. Columns, doors, windows and arches are all one solid mass. It is fascinating to see something built by subtraction rather than addition. Each one is a sculpture as much as it is a building.
To access the churches you descend through narrow stairways and tunnels cut into the stone. The churches are still in use, as are the many priest's chambers that are carved into the surrounding rock faces. It felt like we were entering a preserved medieval time. Priests wearing robes and small caps read from Holy Scriptures and burn incense and beeswax candles. The corridors, tunnels and halls hold the same scents of centuries past. It is an incredible experience.
Our second morning in Lalibela we woke early. It was 5AM on Sunday morning and mass was being held. We wrapped our heads with the cotton scarves that we had bought in Egypt and covered our shoulders with congas that Erin got a while ago in Tanzania. It was dark and cold out. Stars filled the early morning sky.
Walking through the gates we both felt like we were intruding in some way.

soccer ball

Many of the farmers who had walked into town for the market the day before had stayed overnight for the ceremony. Many people, all wrapped in white cotton blankets stood groundside looking down into the church spaces. Each person bowed at least three times, muttering prayers between each. We silently stood behind them listening to the priests chant and sing as we said our own contemplative prayers. We watched the stars disappear as the sun rose over Lalibela.
That afternoon we continued our tour. The churches are no less than remarkable. Towards the end of the day, as we were walking down the curved face of one rock outcropping we noticed a lot of dust rising from a chasm in the rock. Peering over the edge we saw what was causing the storm.
The gro9und was about 12ft below us, covered with dry red dirt. It was about 8 feet wide and 40 feet long. There were two soccer teams playing a Sunday match. It was 5 vs. 5 between the ages of 7 to 10 using rocks as goal posts and goalies to protect them. Some of the kids had shoes, others had sandals, a couple had rubber galoshes and a few were barefoot. They were all covered with dust. We stayed for a while and watched.
Immediately they noticed us and several of the young spectators came over to talk.
"That team is St. Michal. This team is St Georgis. I am the manager for St. Georgis," said one kid dressed in a red fleece.
We watched from above and cheered both teams on. The 10 year old manager stood holding his chin, watching as well.

St George church

A small boy on the St. Georgis team scored then ran down the field towards us kissing the first two fingers on his hands then holding them in the air. His teammates all celebrated as well. One young one stood on his head and fell over into a summersault/flop that left a red stripe of dirt in his hair. Play continued.
"Look, they must play with a sock ball. Maybe you can be our sponsor and buy us a plastic one. With a plastic one maybe they will become very clever." The manager was working his prospects. We watched on.
It was a mad scramble to kick the plastic bag filled sock. There were no fouls called. A goalie made a diving save. As he landed dust billowed out his ragged jacket. One of the boys in the group wagged his hand in the air saying "Oh, he is very good!" St. Michal scored and more cheering, flipping and embracing erupted.
"There are three teams here in Lalibela. This is St. Michal stadium. Today St. Georgis plays St. Michal. Maybe after the game you would like to come see our stadium?" The manger kept telling us about the teams and how they are organized. They play on Saturday, Sunday morning at 6 (after church), then again on Sunday evenings. Each team has their own stadium.
A small guy received a long goalie throw, beat one defender and slid the ball past the St Michal goalies left side. More cheering erupted along with several summersault flops by the kid with the big galoshes. The scorer took off his shirt and ran around the field.
"Maybe you would like to play? You can be with my team," the manager started to say, then St.

winnowing tef

Georgis scored again.
All of the St. Georgis team jumped up and down. Several of the fans shimmied down into the pit and joined in the celebration. "Oh, the game is over. St. Georgis beat St. Michal in their own stadium!"
At one end of the dusty field two boys, about 8 years old or so, began to push each other. "Those are the owners. Now, St. Michal must give something to the St. Georgis owner." The manager looked on with everyone else smiling.
"Now you want to come and see our stadium?"
"Sure, why not. Let's see it."
We walked in a group of children: the St. Georgis team roster and their fans. The manager led the way pointing out several things along the way. Just down the hill from the immaculately carved St. Georgis church there was a flat dirt field where five kids were kicking another sock ball around. "That is the B team training. Maybe you would like to be our sponsor? One plastic ball and the three teams can share it for the games. You will make us very happy and we will never forget you."
Do I have to continue for you to know how this turned out?
The boys led us through the dirt trails of their mud house neighborhood to a small shop. We bought a plastic ball for 25 birr (about $3.50). The adults around the shop smiled at us and nodded. We walked back through the huts seeing hot embers inside and food refuse out. The adults looked up, surprised to see two foreigners surrounded by wide smiling kids. I imagine that not many walk through that part of town on the way to the churches.
We returned to the stadium so that we could "present" the ball to the teams. All of the thanked us over and over again saying that we had made them very happy and that they would never forget us. We exchanged addresses, and they gave us each a cared wooden cross necklace. The kids accompanied us to the top of a nearby hill where they left us to enjoy a silent sunset. It was beautiful.

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