I’m a carnivore!

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Whenever my wife asked what I’d like for my first meal when we arrived back in Australia, my answer was invariably pork chops and ice cream. Not on the same plate, of course, but, in the early days,  we didn’t get either in Ethiopia. As far as ice cream was concerned, after some years, there was one place, as you turned right at Mojo (about 80 km) to go to Shashemane, where an Italian guy sold gelati from a caravan. Years later there was a spot on the right side of the road as you drove out of Addis, where you could get several different kinds of ice cream; now there are places all over Addis and it is also available in most major towns.

Pork chops were off the list because neither Orthodox Christians nor Muslims eat pork. You couldn’t even get bacon. Because of the growing Chinese influence there are now a few places in Addis where you can buy pork, but it is still not a common meat and to many an absolute ‘no-no’,

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You could buy beef which was hanging outside the butcher shops. The butchered halves hung there for all to see. The animals were killed early in the morning and it was good to get there early before there were too many flies. You could point to the piece of meat you wanted and they cut it off. You needed to cook it well, preferably in a pressure cooker. It seemed as if most animals were killed after a long life of pulling a plough!

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Chickens (doro) were bought live. They were highly prized as meat. They were in the local custom killed in, to me, a rather gruesome way by sawing through the neck. We, as you probably know, kill them by placing their necks in a convenient place and with a swift swing of an axe chop off their heads, before hanging them up to drain out their blood. Again by local custom the bird is cut into eleven pieces and made into a very spicy meal. The favoured person is usually handed a piece called, when translated, the horse-rider, the meat on the breast bone.

chickens to market

If you wanted sheep meat you went to the market and bought a sheep. You could never buy lamb or mutton or hogget at a shop. You took the sheep home and killed it and prepared the meat there. African sheep don’t look like ours in Australia. They look like goats, but whereas goats ears and tails go up, those on sheep hang down. Goat meat also can be bought on the hoof, in the same way.

Being brought up in the south of Australia, in our childhood and youth, when not eating rabbit, we ate sheep, usually labelled lamb. On the farm they were aged by their teeth, in the shop by the butcher’s choice.

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One weekend we decided we’d like some sheep meat. So the teenagers who were living with us  A house full of teenagers.  and I went to the local market on the Saturday afternoon and after a lot of haggling bought one. As a white person we financially suffered racism. Everything was a bit dearer for us. So I sent the boys out to suss out the best prices. I fooled myself if I thought this would work as I was well known in the town, as was the fact that the boys lived with us!  I personally had no intention of killing it. Ato (Mr) Kassa, our gardener could do that on Monday, I knew that he’d be happy to do that for a share in the meat as a gift.

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This is a roadside market in Addis. Ours was held once a week as a major event in a square a hectare or so in size and people came from all the neighbouring towns.

Here I ran into an unexpected hurdle. Sheep are not kept outside in countryside Ethiopia, they sleep in the house, I think for fear of thieves or hyenas. At any rate, in the evening we tied it up in the garden but it didn’t like that at all. It baa-baa-ed to the point of driving us near to insanity. We had to end up clearing a space in the inside laundry, and inviting him in. After that peace reigned until…..

Monday when he was dealt with by Kassa. He was a very tasty and the much enjoyed centre of a number of meals.

Interestingly, the intestine is a favoured piece of the kill and locals make it into nice spicy dish. Kassa and his family enjoyed it as part of his gift. On the whole I don’t like tripe.

Dominic Cartier

A personal review of things

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I write a fair bit about my time in ethiopia. Obviously one didn’t always feel on top of things. Here is a comment I have written elsewhere, when I was on sight and waiting for my wife to join me I have shown a few pictures before. A few pictures from the past.
It was, however, all both mentally and physically exhausting. There was little change or even desire to change the problem areas of the hospital. Some of the younger doctors decided not to seek my help – at least immediately. So one morning they came and informed me that the previous night, being unable to deliver a breech they had just cut off the head and left it inside – would I now please remove it. It turned out to be relatively simple but was a very gory procedure.
Then, on another occasion, two days after delivering the first of twins the duty obstetrician said that the other twin was dead and he couldn’t get it out – would I please help? I was in the middle of an operation but I asked him to bring the lady around to the holding room and I would deal with the situation as soon as I finished the present case. I must confess I didn’t even examine the lady but just put her up in stirrups and applied a suction extractor to deliver the twin – only to find that it was alive, and, in fact, the second of triplets! Both of them survived even though it was a rush to prepare and get into action with baby resuscitation equipment. I had learnt to intubate the newborn ‘flat’ babies without a laryngoscope but by putting my finger onto the top of the larynx and passing the tube along my finger into the trachea.
I have just come across a letter I wrote to my wife when I was alone at Soddo. I copy several comments here directly quoting from my letter home.
1. On the weekend I made a note in a chart that someone (a little baby) hadn’t been seen for 48 hours and was very sick and that the GP should be called.There was no record that any medicine had been given at all, he was nearly dead.This led to the accusation that I was accusing the GP of incompetence and that he would never work with me again.The other GPs all supported him saying that I should not write in the chart but send him a message through the Medical Superintendent.
2. Then on Thursday morning I arrived to find a little child grossly dehydrated and on the point of death. In spite of all I tried to do he died about an hour later. I notified the Medical Super and the Head Nurse. They chose for the case to be discussed at the next morning’s meeting. When the case was brought up next morning the situation was not discussed as the doctors said that the meeting to was to discuss out of hours admissions and this child had come in during the day.
3. I was able to intubate a woman whose operation had been cancelled while I was away because they couldn’t pass the tube. I can understand why they found it hard. She is doing well now.
4.There were a number of other very interesting and some sad cases this week. The saddest was a little baby who had his penis, scrotum and contents bitten off by a dog.
5. I’ve been able to put a few new beds in the medical ward and hope this will strengthen my relationship with the physician
There are other points made in the letter but I think that shows the tone of the working conditions.
Dominic Cartier.

A nightmare of a day!

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I am, at the strong encouragement of one of my sons, who says that there are some stories in my life worth recording, reviewing and extending a brief autobiography I wrote years ago. Going through a bit of it yesterday I came across this brief event of one day in my journey. This occured while I was briefly attached to a large teaching hospital in Addis Ababa.
I was on call one night on the eve of a large Muslim holiday. The next morning I left to go to the hospital surprised that I hadn’t had a single call over night. As usual we did a round of the whole surgical wards and early in the round I came across a poor lady lying in bed with most of her small bowel and a bit of her large bowel mixed in with a lot of dirt and gravel lying on the bed next to her. She had a large hole in her right side where all the tissues down to and including portion of the right iliac crest (part of her pelvis) had been torn off in a car accident.
Later I discovered the story. She had been hit by a car driven, by a nun, about four hundred kilometres south of Addis Ababa. The driver had taken her to the local hospital who stated, correctly, that they had no surgeon and the nearest hospital with a surgeon was one hundred and fifty kilometres up the road towards Addis. So the nun took her to that hospital, where she was told that they did have an appointed surgeon but he was away and they had no idea when he would return. They came to Addis, where the first three hospitals said that they had no empty beds. She was eventually admitted into St. Pauls – but nothing had been done for her. No IV fluids, no antibiotics, no dressings – in fact nothing at all except that she had been put in a bed.
I have learnt to be pretty patient but this stretched me to the limit. Why had nothing been done? The hospital was without water so the operating theatres were out of action and definitive treatment could not therefore be undertaken. I think it was planned to leave everything to the undertaker! So I organized for a drip and antibiotics and a clean moist dressing over the exposed entrails and planned to look into the water situation later. I had already noted a tap being used down the street by the general public.
Soon we came across another young man who had been stabbed in the back. He was as white as an Ethiopian can be. As he was of a higher social class he at least had a drip up but the blood bank was closed for the holiday. My wife had arrived in the country by this time and I arranged for her and a missionary nurse Jean Sokvitne to donate blood. With some difficulty we were able to collect it and cross match using Eldon cards.
I organized a group of workers and I worked with them. Between us, we carried water from the afore-mentioned tap and collected maybe a hundred litres in a large container outside the operating rooms. Grudgingly the staff agreed to operate. The young man when stabbed had had his renal artery and vein divided and fortunately the knife, avoiding the duodenum, opened into the peritoneum but not causing any bowel injury. He thus had a peritoneal cavity filled with blood but uncontaminated by intestinal content. We gave him two units of foreign blood and I showed the doctors how to filter the blood from inside his abdomen through gauze and we auto-transfused the patient. He survived and did very well.
Next we worked on the lady. It was difficult but we cleaned her intestines, cleaned the edges of her wound and after returning the bowel to its proper place closed the wound with considerable difficulty. She also recovered, although much more slowly than the young man. In addition to her physical disease she had underlying mental problems which added to her initial poor management and which made things difficult during her recovery.
The day after the holiday we had, as usual on working days, a morning meeting at which all admissions over the past couple of days were discussed. I was, surprisingly to me, severely chastised. Two motions were passed:
  1. Never again would doctors be involved in carrying water to the hospital or in arranging for it to be carried as this was a government responsibility.
  2. No auto transfusion would be used unless a modern cell saver were used (of course there were none in Ethiopia!) as the country was not a ‘banana republic’.

Dominic Cartier

Winning the battle; Losing the war!

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I spoke earlier about tangles with authorities. DEALINGS WITH THE LAW My biggest tangle saw me with a renewal request for my visa denied. I was working in a government hospital after ‘peace’ had been restored after the communist take over.

For some years there had been a great shortage of equipment, drugs and materials. The country was just coming out of years of war, and this was understandable. Fortunately  I was able to keep working reasonably satisfactorily because of aid sent out from Australia. I had been working in 3 hospitals where I had a private practice, and public sessions – two were private and the other a public hospital. They very generously collected good second hand equipment, and from donations we were able to occasionally buy new but usually second hand items. We paid for it to come in ship containers. No duty was charged on its entry into Ethiopia, but then everything was a gift.

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In this photo, as an example, we had provided the following: the operating table, the portable light, the oxygen concentrator, the suction machine,the drapes and gowns,as well as the diathermy machine, the leads of which you can see covered in plastic. WE had the drapes and gowns made locally.

Suddenly, whilst a container was on the high seas, an import tax was announced amounting to some 35% of the new value of these gifted usually second hand items.

It was too late to not get it, it was already on the way.

After several days at the ‘goomrook’ (customs) I was handed a bill. To get the money I had to sell my second hand Toyota Land-cruiser. The government had paid nothing for all that we had shipped in for about four years. The bill was paid by me.

Then the fun began. The powers that were in place refused to release the container. So after three months of phone calls, pleading letters I sought an appointment with the official whom I knew had both the power to stop release or to grant permission. He wasn’t the head of health (she was a pleasant lady from a smaller tribe) but the highest in line from the ruling tribe.

After over two hours of my persisting to hear the ‘no, no, no’ which he kept uttering, and I think that he realising that there was another way to say ‘no’,  said ‘ok, I will, come back tomorrow’. If I had agreed I knew that the chance of getting another appointment was minuscule. So I indicated my thanks for the ‘yes’, but as the paperwork was in front of him I wasn’t leaving until I left with the signed form. After about another 30 minutes of discussion, he said ‘ I will, but I don’t see what you see in those people!’ Naming the tribe amongst whom I was working. I should have shut up,, I guess, but couldn’t help saying ‘when you get to know them, Sir, they’re almost human.’ I got my paper and a little later the stuff. I’m convinced that he wanted the stuff for his own area.

I had won the battle, but I lost the war. Soon I had to seek a renewal of my work permit and visa. They were denied.

Some six years later, with another person in power, I got a visa again and spent another ten years working in the country.

Dominic Cartier

DEALINGS WITH THE LAW

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Relationships with the law aren’t always easy. To quote the old saying “the law is an ass”. Yes it is, but no it isn’t. I think you know what I mean. Sometimes sticking to the strict letter of the law seems crazy, but I won’t follow that line any further.

I have three episodes at least of disagreements with law authorities in Ethiopia. There is a fourth more complex one that I may tell you about sometime, but not today.

In the first, the ‘traffic’ as they call them stopped me up in Addis. There you drive on the right. Coming to a corner where there were four lanes travelling each way I wanted to turn left. I wanted to cross in front of four lanes. Those coming in the other direction had a stop light. In the past, two lanes had been allowed to turn left, but, unbeknown to me, the rules, the law, had changed – now, one only could turn. So, doing what I thought I knew was right, I turned from the now illegal lane and was whistled over by the ‘traffic’.

As a bit of background, if fined in Addis they take away your licence, give you a fine slip, you immediately go and pay the fine, then come back to the same person, show your receipt and get your licence back. By then the person with your licence may or may not still be there. Or you can pay a bribe, which I am not in the habit of doing.

The guy asked for my licence. Resisting the temptation to tell him that I drove without one (I did have one) I simply said ‘no’. I think it shocked him a bit. ‘Why not?’ I was asked, ‘don’t you have one?’. So I explained that I did but that I knew how fines were handled, that I had a 500 km trip ahead of me and I wanted to be on my way. And, without stopping for him to get a word in, I asked if he had ever done wrong and been forgiven? Again, without stopping, I said that I knew that I had accidentally done wrong, and ended by saying ‘please forgive me!’ He smiled, looked at my licence which I had slowly taken out, and he waved me on. Nice guy!

A patient was brought to our hospital from the prison with a broken thigh bone (femur). We were ordered to treat him. It turned out that, according to him, ‘they’ at the prison had broken his leg. We did not have facilities to put in an intramedullary* nail which would have allowed him to walk in a few weeks, so he was put up in traction. Those bones heal slowly and usually need about three months to heal properly. I think the guy preferred our bed to the prison. Less than a week later the prison guards were there to take him back to prison. After a long and fairly heated discussion they left, without the patient, but with my promise that if they returned with an official letter stating that they would take him to the police hospital in Addis, I would fix him in such a way that he could travel the 200+ km to get there. It didn’t take long for them to get the paper. I knew that, as they drove out from our hospital, if they turned right they were going to Addis, if they turned left they were not. They turned left.

I was only about 30 in the late sixties. Maybe I was young and foolish. Not long before an important person had been involved in an accident near the hospital. Having treated the injured, I had been requested to write a legal report as to what had happened. The report obviously didn’t please the wealthy guy who had caused the accident. So, a policeman arrived in my office and offered me a considerable bribe if I would rewrite the report according to his suggestions. Maybe foolishly, but with great satisfaction (he was not a big man) I picked him up by the scruff of his neck and the seat of his uniform and threw him out the door. I am thankful that I heard no more, as I suspect I was right to refuse but wrong to do what I did!

* intramedullary nails were first used in WWII to allow the Germans to rapidly mobilise prisoners of war who had broken femurs, for example, pilots who had parachuted out of their planes. This concept is used a lot these days.

Dominic Cartier

One Sad Memory, One Glad Celebration

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The SAD One

When I returned to Ethiopia in the 90’s I had the ‘run-around’! I went with all the paperwork settled by both ends to become Associate Professor at the Black Lion (the large University) Hospital. The paperwork was not enough for a newly inducted set of hierarchy. So I was allocated as ‘Head of the Department’ at the soon to be opened Kidus Paulos Hospital (St Paul’s). Before it opened I was twice demoted to become another surgeon on the second surgical department in that hospital. In addition I was employed by the University on a contract – to be paid a salary, which was not exorbitant but livable. The contract was made in Ethiopian birr when the US dollar bought 2 Ethiopian birr. Within weeks without warning US$1 equalled 6 birr. At the moment it is nearly US$=30 birr. So my wage was effectively reduced by two thirds. I was still paid at the two birr level! Then the Kidus Paulos was slow in opening.

After pleading negotiations I was permitted to work at the Menelik II Hospital until Kidus Paulos opened. But I was paid from the Yekatit Asara Hulet hospital. Which brings us to “The Sad Memory” mentioned above.

Yekatit is a month of the Ethiopian Calendar. Asara hulet is the number twelve. (February 19th in our calendar – our calendars don’t match.) So why is that a sad memory?  It is quite a story….

During their occupancy of Ethiopia 1936-41,  the Italians had apparently built a huge poison chemical factory near Mogadishu in Italian Somalia. They had 37,000 gas masks kept for their own use. The fear, from an Ethiopian point of view, was that they themselves were a major target for attack by chemical warfare. In a failed attempt to assassinate  the Italian Viceroy of East Africa, Marshal Rodolfo Graziani; he was injured but several Italians were killed. The Italian response was over the next 3 days to slaughter over 30,000 Ethiopians, including about 20,000 in Addis Ababa (at that time 20% of the population of Addis!) Talking to local people they say that, as part of this slaughter, 1,000 people were lined up near the Sidist Kilo corner in Addis and the Italians shot every tenth one. The Yekatit Hospital is built at Sidist Kilo and there is a monument there until this day. Italians still walk and work in Ethiopia. The Emperor, on his return from exile in Britain after the Italians were driven out, said that they should be forgiven. Not many Italians, however, are seen out and about on February the 19th!

The GLAD One

If you look in your computer to see if an African Nation has ever conquered an invading European force unaided you are given “The Battle of Adwa”.  I can find no other. The Italian invasion discussed above was the second of their major attempts to conquer Ethiopia.  In 1896 the Italians planned to enlarge their empire in Africa. They already had Eritrea as a base. In the end after much fighting the countries faced each other at Adawa. Without trying to go into great detail the following facts seem to be basically true.

  • The Ethiopians had a much larger force being on home soil. Roughly 80,000 to 20,000
  • The Italians had much the better war machinery.
  • There was previously after some squirmishes an agreement between Ethiopia and Italy with different wording in the Italian and Ethiopian copies. Menelik II acted on his copy which meant having discussions with Europe without going through Italian sources. Italy by their copy of the agreement obviously saw Ethiopia as a subject nation and invaded.
  • On March 1st 1896 the Italians were routed. The story is complex but the victory complete and is celebrated with vigour every year.

 

Dominic Cartier

A little about the Amharic language

Amharic is the language of the Amharas, one of the major tribes of Ethiopia. Emperor Haile Selassie (The power of the Trinity) was an Amhara and sought to make it and English the main languages of Ethiopia. French was, for a while, a popular alternative and a number of words in modern Amharic also come from the Italian invasion. There are apparently 83 languages in Ethiopia giving rise to about 200 dialects. Ge’ez is the old language of the Orthodox Church and introduces the ‘ in the middle of a word to indicate a glottal stop.

To show how different these tribal languages are I will give four greetings with a rough English translation. I will use our script to give an idea of how they sound

  • Amharic greeting is classically Tenastilygn – a shortened form of the sentence Igzeehabeeyer Tena Yisterlygn  – May God give you health for me.
  • In Oromifa – Neggaa, Fiya, Errga – Hello, how are you, it’s nice to smell you. In this situation I think the ‘smell’ is conceptually ‘to have your presence with us’.
  • In Wolaitata – Sero Lo’oo Lo’oo Fiedaitey – Hello, How are you., nice to see you.
  • In Hadeyan – Tuuma, Tuuma. Hello, hello!

Haile Selassie attempted to make Amharic the common Ethiopian language and it was taught in primary and secondary school with English being added later in primary school. English was the official language of tertiary education. After Haile Selassie was murdered the era of Mengistu HaileMariam (The kingdom of the power of Mary) sought to elevate other tribal languages with English as the second language, leaving Amharic for the Amhara tribe. It is thought by many that, whereas Haile Selassie was seeking to unite the country, Mengistu was seeking to divide the tribes to make the country easier to rule.

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Above the sign is in Oromifa which uses the Roman script and a lot of doubling of letters eg baanke. In the middle Amharic, And below English. Addis Ababa is officially a Federal State but used to be Oromo territory so that comes first and Amharic is in smaller letters.

Certainly when I went back after the overthrow of Mengistu I experienced some trouble from this. I was living in the Wolaita area and patients coming from the Hadeyan area only 40 km down the road could frequently not be understood by the staff. The present government seems to now have a three language policy.

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The 3 languages used here are symbols, Amharic and English. In voting, because so many are illiterate each party has a symbol to show the voters whom they should choose. I never saw a radar gun on that road!

In Amharic there are two ‘t’s – both normal for them but with very different meanings. Also with ‘k’s and ‘ch’s  differences which we describe as soft or explosive. You can get into real trouble. I was in the bank with a couple of friends and our business was drawn out. I said to my friends  ‘Chiger alle?’ thinking I was saying ‘is there a problem?’ but actually saying ‘do you have pubic hair?’ Embarrassing for them and for me, when it was explained. But their letters are written differently and so easily read but not easily heard by us, who think anything like a ‘t’ sound is in fact a ‘t’. In Amharic ‘sebake’ and ‘sebake’, depending on how you sound the ‘k’  means a ‘preacher’ or ‘a bearer of false tales’.

In English we have many letters and letter groups with same or different meaning. We spell Monday with an ‘o’ and say it with a ‘u’. We have the ‘ou’ and say it differently in the following – cough, mouse, tough, through – and pronounce it differently in each word. We have the one letter eg ‘t’ and pronounce it differently in different words. The ‘t’ in tough and the ‘t’ in take are made with the tongue in very different places. Or more significantly the ‘c’ in cat and centipede. Say them and see how your tongue is in a different position for each. We have f’s and ph’s which sound the same. In some of the languages you don’t differentiate p’s and f’s, so people, when they speak in English  go to fray or pray at church; they wear certain clothes either because it is the new fashion or new pashion, without recognising the difference. In Amharic if you know the syllabet you can read it with the correct sound even if you maybe cannot understand it!

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The fidel is not really an alphabet but a syllabet. The second line is basically the ‘l’ sound but the seven syllables as go across from left to right are le,lu, lee, laa, ley, li, lo. There are 238 basic syllables and another 79 special ones, punctuation marks and numbers.

I once told a patient that, as I had spent hours fixing the problems which his venereal disease had caused, ‘that if you have sex with anyone apart from my wife after this, I will kill you!’ I used the sound for my instead of the one for your. Fortunately he spoke in Oromifa and after my Amharic speaking fellow workers got up from the floor, having ceased rolling around in laughter, they translated what I had meant to say!

Learning another language is always a challenge and we all make mistakes!

Dominic Cartier

King Jafir the second.

Most people know something about Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia. One of his titles was King of kings. This is no reference to the Biblical title of Jesus whom Christians call King of kings, although Haile Selassie was an Orthodox Christian. The word king is defined as a noun meaning ‘a male sovereign or monarch; a man who holds by life tenure, and usually by hereditary right, the chief authority over a country and people.’ In many countries, however, there can be multiple kings. The term here is used to define a life-time position of authority over a group of people. Thus in Haile Selassie’s time there were many who were called kings. I, for instance, in southern Ethiopia have sat at a meal between the Buna king and an American Ambassador acting as the co-translator from the Buna king’s language to Amharic and then by me from Amharic to English. The king was there all powerful over his tribe even though by that time Ethiopia was a so-called democracy.

One of the kings under Haile Selassie was King Jafir II. His father King Jafir I introduced Islam into the Oromo people in the Jimma area of Ethiopia. The story as told from the Muslim and the Christian sides varies and isn’t of relevance to this article.

King Jafir II was born in 1861 and reigned as king 1878 to 1932. His palace although made out of mud still stands and is a major tourist site near Jimma. Unfortunately it is beginning to crumble.

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The king was a big man said to be over 7 feet tall.
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The open window is suitable for the average sized person; the closed one was specially built for him to look out over his kingdom!
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On the left you see an Ethiopian teenager sitting on Jafir’s chair. In the centre is his super-duper king-size bed. And on the right a double minaret-ed mosque which is just outside the palace.
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The outside of the palace. It has many rooms in part at least because he had many children. I have not been able to find a family tree for him but as a Muslim he was entitled to as many as four wives and many important people had even more.
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Children’s rooms were upstairs and the courtyard below for their pleasure both for personal involvement (eg in swordsmanship) and for watching various contests and acts.
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Overlooking Jimma city from the palace. Jmma is one of the larger Ethiopian cities.
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Jafir was king of a very fertile countryside – famous as the homeland of coffee.

I enjoyed my visit there.

Dominic Cartier.

 

Old photos from Ethiopia.

I cannot boast of being a good photographer. Here are a few photos from the past with a bit of explanation. The first photo was taken through an airplane window. The smokiness is real in that without electricity every home has an open fire, and picture was taken early in the morning.

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Ethiopia has 70 percent of the mountains found in Africa.  The highest is Mount Dashen at 4543m (14930 feet). It also has one of the lowest and hottest places in the world. The Danakil depression is 125m below sea level.
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The north is also famous for its 11 churches, hewn out of rock. The place is called Lalibela, where an Ethiopian Emperor of that name set out to restore the region to Christianity after a Muslim invasion. The churches are outstanding, being of a single piece of rock! Some believe that English knights, fleeing from Jerusalem during the wars there, helped in the building. This is maybe supported by the inclusion of the English Tudor rose in so many of the carvings. Others say that, at night time, angels came and helped in the building.

 

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There are seven monasteries of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church on Lake Tana from which the Blue Nile starts its journey into Egypt. Above is an example of the multitude of paintings painted  in typical Ethiopian style. They are found in abundance in these monasteries. Not in this painting which is of an angel watching over Mary and her Son but interestingly you see amongst the many paintings  two saints whom most of the churches don’t recognize. Kidus Pilatus (St Pilate) – sainted because he was the only one who sought to have Jesus released, when he was being tried before His crucifixion. Another called the Cannibal Saint, who supposedly loved eating human flesh but has been sainted because he gave a glass of water to a thirsty girl. The story is that Mary put her hand on the scales when he was being tried after his death.
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I don’t think they make the horses drink petrol, but these little carts are a very common form of transport in the countryside. Although the car per population ratio is low the car accident per number of cars is very high. One of, if not the highest, in the world.
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On a straight open bitumen road. Note the rocks placed to warn motorists. It doesn’t help if you are just topping a hill and the rocks start just over the top!  See lake Shalla in the distance – the deepest lake in Ethiopia. Its depth is 257 metres and its area 12X15 km.