Susan Corbin

May 11, 2024 Saturday

Introducing the shopping game

In the morning, we met in the lobby at 8:30 after breakfast. Yes, I had an omelet again. Melaku created a game for us. One I didn’t particularly want to participate in. I know this may be difficult for those of you who know me, but I get shy when I’m in a situation in which I am uncomfortable, or I feel I’m out of my depth, or I feel like I’m making a fool of myself, or that I am imposing on people. All of those seemed to be happening in this situation.

The game was that Melaku gave each of us or each team of us (John and I went together) 200 Birr and a note with an Amharic word on it. Our word was the word for oil. Google says it is “het,” though that isn’t how it is spelled with Amharic letters, but that sounds/looks right to me. I didn’t keep the note, so I’m going by memory.

Shopping in the Lalibela market

The van took us to a marketplace in Lalibela, where we were supposed to go to the hole-in-the-wall shops along the street to buy what was on our pieces of paper. Ick! But John and I girded our foreign loins and attempted to play the game. Unfortunately, in the first place we went, the proprietor wouldn’t sell us the three-liter jug of vegetable oil for the 200 Birr we had. She wanted 600. Well, bother.

We left and joined with some of the others in our group. They had decided to combine their money and buy some vegetable oil. That seemed brilliant. Becky had bought some Life Boy soap with her 200, so John and I decided to buy that. She took us to the little shop where she’d gotten the soap, and I let her bargain for it—done and done. Whew. I was glad that was over. Once everyone had made their purchases, we recongregated at the van and compared what we’d bought. I don’t think everyone else hated the game as much as I did. I’m glad.

Asheton Village

The van took us to Asheton Village. Melaku planned to gift the things we bought at the market to those who lived there. We drove over several miles of highway.

Later, John commented that Ethiopia had many miles of highways. Most of the time, it was used as a place for people to walk.

As we pulled up to what Melaku called the village, I thought it didn’t look much like a village. It looked more like three-family houses/huts around a central area surrounded by plowed earth. We were introduced to various family members.

 

The family showed us around the area. A woman was roasting some barley in a pan over an open fire. We were invited to cook it as well. Several people sat in her place and stirred. The boys and Becky took turns stirring the barley.

The houses were made of mud and straw, typical of the area. I thought they looked much nicer than the corrugated metal and blue plastic “stores” we saw in the cities. At least they looked like they belonged in the area.

Inside the homes

After an invitation, we entered a home with dirt floors. I saw benches and beds made with mud protruding from the walls. The beds were covered with bedding, so people weren’t sleeping on the hard mud floor.

 

We sat on the benches from the walls, and Melaku translated for the man when he welcomed us into his home. We thanked him for the welcome. The wife made coffee for us by cooking the beans over an open fire, grinding them, and steeping the coffee in the traditional pot. Melaku assured us that the cups had been washed in bottled water. Honestly, I had not thought of that, but it was reassuring.

Coffee, of course

After coffee, we gave them the gifts we’d brought for them from the States—these I’d known to bring. Melaku said that the solar-powered lights would be of great help to the women because with the lights, they would not have to gather wood to fuel a fire for light at night. That made sense. We also gave them the food and soap we bought at the market earlier.

We walked around the compound and saw the donkeys, goats, and cows owned by this family.

The people we met seemed to have all they needed. There were smiles all around. One of the daughters we were introduced to said she’d been at the university and had come home to help her mother. I thought what a loss to her and the community, but I also thought that having an education would help her to value her siblings and children having an education. Maybe it was a loss, but there were redeeming sides to it. We said farewell to the people we met at Asheton Village and loaded back into the van.

Back for lunch and a nap

We went back to the hotel for lunch and a nap. When the others left for their afternoon activities, I decided to stay in the room. You know that cold that Sam had that I didn’t want to catch? I caught it and thought if I rested in the room for the afternoon, I’d feel better the next day. I slept most of the afternoon. I’m glad I did because I felt better the following day.

The crew went to see Bete Giyorgis, or Church of St. George, another stone church, but unlike the others, a monolithic church carved in the shape of a Greek cross with all the arms the same length. They also went to the home of a woman who had been in the militia and fought in the civil war against the Communists, which, according to Google, lasted from 1974 to 1991. I don’t know when this woman was in the war. She told them about her experiences as a woman in the Ethiopian military at war.

It was our last day in Lalibela. The next day, we packed up and flew to Gondor. Before we left, Melaku had a surprise for me. Stay tuned for what that was.