You Gotta Have Faith

Easter Sunday all over the Christian world, but Palm Sunday here in Orthodox Ethiopia. The

priest’s prayers resonate over Piazza, the area of Addis Ababa where my friends live. We have one more week of fasting and such before the big Easter day. I will be spending it in Lalibela, one of the oldest Christian sites in all of Ethiopia. Famous for its churches dug out of rock, there will many a pilgrim there next week. Looking forward to that.
It’s amazing to find out that Ethiopia is the second country in the world to adopt

Christianity (Armenia being the first) way back in 300 AD. To think that here people have been worshipping for more centuries than almost anyone else is amazing. When I reflect upon that, I think of the Catholics and other Christians who think they are so high and mighty and that they are superior

to any other Christians, but you know what? The Ethiopians have been doing it longer, and they are devout and not prideful in their worship. There is serenity, a calm when entering a church here and something special watching people pray. It is welcoming and yet distant in some way. Still the centuries-old faith that is practiced by the majority of the population never ceases to put me in awe. The frescoes and

icons in the churches are just spectacular, as are the churches themselves. I’ve only been in two, yet in each one I feel such peace, as if I am at home.
Notwithstanding, Islam plays an important role in Ethiopia as well. It came along 300 years

after Christianity, and serves a decent proportion of the population. While churches dot the Addis skyline more than mosques, Christians and Muslims work and live side by side and seem to get on well with each other. Accoridng to my friend Bob, there doesn’t seem to be animosity between the two groups. I’m sure they have their scuffles but for the most part all is well.
Yesterday we visited the Trinity Church, also known as Haile Selassie’s church since he worshipped there and is buried there next to his wife Empress Menan. It’s such a beautiful

church and the time of day we visited, the lighting was just perfect to make it memorable. The stained glass windows, the altar, the large tombs of the last emperor and empress of Ethiopia, the quiet of

the place, it definitely was wonderful. They were gearing up for the Palm Sunday celebrations outside by hanging bunting in Ethiopian flag colours, assembling canopies and putting up palm fronds everywhere. This is only the second church I’ve been in here, but this coming week I will be churched out when I head up to Aksum, Gondar, and Lalibela—that’s the heart of Ethiopian Christianity.
Faith, it’s something everyone needs—it brings us together and breaks us apart. The more I

travel around the world, the more I know that all religions are right, not one is better than the other, and that God is one. It doesn’t matter if we pray 5 times a day, go to church once a week, visit a temple daily, as long as it makes sense to us as individuals, it’s all good. The roads are different, the destination is the same. Such are my thoughts on Palm Sunday here in Addis. Now I must see to breakfast.

Good Morning Addis Ababa

Morning comes to Addis Ababa. The glow of the rising sun comes through my big windows that

overlook the garden. Somewhere outside the walls of Bob and Denis’s home come chanting from some place of worship. It is not the meuzzin’s call to prayer but something else, something I’ve never heard before, maybe morning prayers from the local Orthodox church perhaps. Orthodox Christianity is the main religion here in Ethiopia so it could be some morning prayers.
My second full day in Ethiopia has arrived. I’m sure I could have stayed longer in India, but

it seemd time to move on and see new places. This is my second time in Africa, my previous being back in 1998 when I climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. I’ve come into this adventure with not much knowledge of the place, but will leave a lot more informed about Ethiopia. This country has an amazing history and stands alone from other African countries in the sense that it was never a colony, the second country in the world to make Christianity its official religion, and has a rich culture

that spans centuries. I look forward to learning more about Ethiopia as I experience it. Most exciting is that I’ll be here for Orthodox Easter, which will be a great thing to see.
My digs are rather fancy here, a big house surrounded by a lovely garden. Bob and Denis are

living the expat life here and have it rather comfortable. After being cast adrift from my other job, I thought this is the time to come to Africa and see them. Ethiopia has a different smell than India. India is full of all sorts of exotic smells, both delectable and not, but Ehiopia has an earthy smell, one of the red soil laced with cinnamon and frankincense. I’m sure it has its share of bad smells to but that’s the first thing I notice here is the smell. Every place has its own smell and that’s what I detected as I got off the plane and exited the airport into the evening air.
Addis is a lively city, as a capital city should be. Denis and I drive around yesterday to check it out. It has a definite hodge podge feeling, grand buildings lining the wide boulevards,

with smaller houses and shops on the side streets. There is a big plan to tear down all the little shops and houses and put up tall, glass buildings to show how modern a city is Addis, but it will lose a lot of its character unfortunately. Governments never learn about retaining a city’s heritage.

Rich developers’ grand plans and all the money they will pocket out of the deal blind them. Why won’t they ever learn? We spent some time trying to find an ATM that accepted MasterCard and in between had a

coffee at Tomoca, a charming little coffee house where robust coffee is served in small glasses and sipped by the locals at high tables. It’s not a place to leisure over a cup of coffee for an hour, but rather a quick sip and you’re on your way. Despite my giving up coffee, I broke the rule yesterday. Ethiopia is known for its coffee and when in Ethiopia, why not try the coffee?
Upon arrival, I grabbed B and D’s Lonely Planet guide to Ethiopia and have been catching up of my Ethiopian history and pouring information about the places I need to see into my noggin.

I’ll be spending this week in Addis and then next week will fly off to “do the loop” as they call it; Aksum, Gondar, and Lalibela—the three ancient cities up north. Lalibela is famous for its churches dug out of the rock, free standing in large caverns in the ground. That’s where

Bob and Denis and I will spend Orthodox Easter, which should be quite the event. Aksum and Gondar are ancient capitals, one holding the Ark of the Covenant and where the Queen of Sheba ruled, and the other holds many ancient castles and churches and supposedly is really a beautiful place to visit. More details form this places next week. Until then I will soak up the local scene here in the capital. Last night we went to see an Egyptian film at the Alliance Francaise, and then dined

in the La Petit Francaise, the restaurant on the grounds. Nice place—the chewiest piece of beef I’ve had in a long time! Met some of Bob’s colleagues and had a nice expat evening. Today who knows what will unfold. I’m sure Denis and I will head out to check something out and have a nice lunch somewhere. So far am enjoying this fabulous place!

Time for a change of scenery

My last full day in India. This has been the longest I’ve spent here after a camp. It’s

really been enjoyable. I feel it’s the first time when I’m able to be on my own in India and explore it without being managed by others or had 40 Afghans connected to me. India can be an overwhelming place, but I have come to appreciate it and really like it. The people are wonderful, the food is great and there are so many beautiful places to see.
Being kicked out of Turkmenistan has not been a shining moment in my career and it upsets me

that I’ve let my colleagues there down. Yet everything happens for a reason. Maybe I’m just not cut out for living in repressive regimes. I don’t know whhat’s going to happen next but I do know it’s going to be all right. Maybe this is a sign to finish my book as I promised myself (yes I think that’s a plan). Given free time to roam about the world for a bit is great. I’m looking forward to two weeks in Ethiopia visiting Bob and Denis. I really know little about Ethiopia and am looking forward to exploring this new and exciting place. Not everyone looks at Ethiopia as such a place but it should be a great trip. In a few hours I’m off to the Ethiopian embassy to get my visa and tomorrow it’s goodbye Delhi and hello Addis Ababa!
I found out on Friday morning that my yellow fever shot was out of date and I needed a new

one. So I furtively searched the Internet looking for places in Delhi to do that, which there were but none on Mondays (my only day to do it). In a blog entry, there was a doctor in Chandighar, 4 hours away, that does yellow fever shots, so I called him found out where he was located at 1 pm was on a bus down the hill to Chandighar. Now the last thing I wanted to do on my last day in Shimla was spent most of the day on a bus, but this was important and needed to be done. Plus after a week up in the hills, I needed an adventure. The bus flew down the winding roads though villages and towns, filling our half empty bus with more and more passengers. By the time we got down to the bottom in Kalka, the place was packed. At the bus station in Chandighar, I negotiated a car to take me to Dr. Gupta’s clinic and then back to Shimla and off I went. Dr. Gupta is a pediatrician who also provides yellow fever vaccinations to wandering foreigners like myself. His office is tucked upstairs in a shopping center, very clean and nice. At 2,800 rupees a shot, the yellow fever business can be very lucrative. So after four hours on a bus, I had 15 minutes with Dr. Gupta and then was back on my way up the mountain to Shimla. My driver was a young guy named Ishan. His English was not great but we practiced along the way up the twisty, winding roads. He has a nasty sounding girlfriend who kept calling and yelling at him. I told him I’s throw the phine out the window if she kept calling or talk to her myself. He seems like a nice guy and doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. He told me all she wants is money (which he doesn’t have a lot of), I told him to get rid of her.
Ishan is from Dharamsala but has come down to Chandighar to be a driver. He’s been here for about a year, and doesn’t really like it. He’s always working and earns a mere 7,000 rupees a month (about $125). I guess that’s good in some places but with a rent and other things, it doesn’t leave him a lot left over. He dreams of going “foreign place” as he says, like Australia or Europe to work, but his English is not so good. Along the way we stopped for dinner at McDonald’s, my treat. It’s probably the first time he’s been invited to dinner with a client, sitting at the same table, and havng the client pay for it. He deserved it. We arrived in Shimla around 10:00 and he had to turn around and go back down the hill, poor guy. We met a friend of his along the way who was driving some people up, so at least he had some company on the way back down.
On my last morning in Shimla, I wanted one last walk up to the Jakhoo Temple to pray to

Hanuman. Early to rise and up the hill I went huffing and puffing along the way through the forest. This mountain air takes something out of me. Got up to the top amid lots of monkey activity around the main temple. They were jockeying for a prime position, and the dogs were barking at them to keep them at bay. It was breakfast time and they were looking for a handout of halwa or some other treat from the worshippers. While sititng on a bench, suddenly a monkey leapt up and snatched my glass off my face. I looked over at this monkey by a tree, my glasses dangling in his hand. There’s a trick to getting them back—you give the monkey something else and they drop the thing they’ve snatched from you. So one man handed the monkey a bit of food and voila he dropped my glasses and ran off with the food instead. Clever little system they have figured out.

The small café I usually have tea at was open and advertised breakfast, of which there was nothing really exciting (Instant noodles for breakfast? Yuck). So I opted for tea and one last quiet moment up on the hill. My solitude was not to be for I was almost immediately joined by a Hindu wise man who had eyed me inside the temple and tried to get me to sit with him. He was one of those devout Hindus who roams form temple to temple, living off the kindness of others. Harmelss yet a little crazy. His robes were of white and orange and his hair was long and matted in the back. The café worker eyed him suspiciously as if him knew the man’s story and didn’t want him bothering me, but he was really benign. He sat with me and offered me some halwa and channa. If I couldn’t have pranthas for breakfast, I might as well have so halwa. He told me he has two brothers in Chicago and that’s about all he could tell me in English. We took a picture together, I ate osme of his food, finished my tea and was off down the hill to go pack and get to my train.
One of the highlights of coming or going to Shimla is the toy train that takes you up and down the hill. Built by the British, this little train winds its way up and down the mountain. It

really is a pleasant train ride as you rumble slowly through the forests and small towns. It evokes the time of the Raj and in a way you are transported back to a different India. The journey is slow, about 5.5 hours but overall is worth it. In tiny cars you get to meet others and enjoy the scenery. By the last hour

everyone seems to be over the trip and ready to get off, but for most of the time, it’s a great train trip. At the end of the line in Kalka, I had about two hours to spare before my train to Delhi, so I had a

bite to eat and sat around people watching. It was a beautiful time to be on the station platform, in the late afternoon with the sun making its way down towards evening. I really enjoyed that time on the platform watching the different people go by. The train to Delhi was quite comfortable and they

amount of food they served was amazing. It seemed like every 10 minutes they were giving us something to eat; snacks with tea, soup, dinner, ice cream, a bottle of water. It was great. Arriving in Delhi, a driver I met last week, Ashok, came to pick me up at the station and take me to the Vishal, my home in Delhi. Some tandoori chicken and a cold beer and I was ready for bed. A nice ending to an enjoyably long day!

I go out walkin' after report writing...

Walk, walk, walk. How I love to walk around Shimla. My legs ache in a good way form all the

walking I do here. Up the hills, down the hills, along the Ridge, it’s great exercise for me. Yesterday, after an extensive report writing section, I went up to have lunch at Ashiana restaurant, a lovely round building with views of the whole town and the valleys below. After that I set off toward the Glen, a quiet spot in the forest about 3 or 4 kms away. Down a windy road through the forest, it was lovely to be somewhere in India with little to no noise. A car, bus or motorcycle would pass now and then but for the most part all I heard was the wind through the

trees. Below me I could see Annandale, the former racetrack and polo grounds of the British, now used for cricket playing. It took about 45 mins. To reach the Glen, and it was worth it. Tall pine trees mark this spot along a hill, a path winding down into the thick cluster of scented pines. I made my way down the path for a bit until I found a bench to rest on. Finally, a place in India where one could be alone in his thoughts with no noise and no other

human being around. All I had was the sun shinng on my face and the wind making a gentle soft noise through the needles on the trees. The British used to say this place reminded them of Scotland and I could see that. Hilly, craggy with lovely views—yeah I’ve been to Scotland, I could see that.
After sitting and contemplating the peacefulness of this spot, I made my way back up the winding road toward the hustle and bustle of humanity. There was some sort of protest going on by the Shimla governent building, which blocked the road so the closer to the top of the hill I

got, the more cars were standing beeping and honking trying to get through. People were yelling and protesting about who knows what and the police were all around. Quite the contrast to my quiet solitude of 30 mins before. Along the way back, two college boys joined me as I walked up toward the Mall. They had just finished an exam and were going up to the Mall to hang out. We exchanged names, where are we from, what do they study and all the general pleasantries. Then one of them asks me how often I have sex in New York. A rather direct question to which I replied, “That’s a rather personal question.” Then I asked him how often he had sex in India to which he replied “Once.” I told the young man that he was the second person to ask me about having sex in America. He told me he read some things on the Internet about all the sex people have in the U.S., to which I replied, “People have sex all over the world.” To which he giggled and replied, “Well not in India.” To which I just laughed and changed the subject. When we got to the Mall I bid them adieu and continued on to my hotel for a bit of a rest and to enjoy some strawberries on my balcony and watch the sunset.
Heading up to the Embassy for a lamb dinner, I noticed a big temple all lit up on the

hillside. What was this fabulous diadem blazing in the night skyline? I must go see this place! So after dinner I made my way through the narrow lower streets of Shimla to find this temple. Most of the shops were closed oas I made my way throught the Lower Bazaar but a few stores and

little restaurants beckoned people in the darkness. Some boys were playing cricket in the middle of the road at one point, people going up and down the narrow stairways that link the levels of

streets here. Further I carried on until I saw some men hanging the sparkly gold garlands above the street. This was a sure sign that I was on the right path. I followed the road, with the garlands as my guide down until I came to my destination. The temple was all lit up like a house at Christmas
time, ablaze in the night. I walked around it taking pictures, basking in its warm light. As I made my way back up the hill, I ran into a procession of holy men heading toward this temple.

They were lead by their main pandit, whose picture I saw on the temple archway. We smiled and bowed at each other as we passed in the road. Further up I repeated this as I passed the local mosque on a stairway heading up to the Mall.

Shimla is really beautiful at night and after dinner it’s great to take a stroll on the Mall to check things out. Christ Church is all lit up and high on the hill Hanuman is aglow and watching over all of us. This place closes down early and by 9/9:30, the streets roll up. So as they rolled up, I rolled

down the hill to my hotel, buying some bananas and strawberries from the fruit vendor who was still out there selling his wares. A few more days here and it’s time to head back down the hill to the big city. Until then I’ll relish every minute here.

British Colonial Dreams

Sunset on my balcony again, day 4 of my time in this magical place called Shimla. I’ve just

spent the last few hours walking from my hotel to the Vice Regent Lodge about 4 kms away. I can see it perching up on the hillside opposite my balcony, there in the distance, black against the setting sun. It’s a lovely old place, Scottish baronial they call it. Very majestic and reminiscent of the British

Raj days. Now it houses the Institute of Advanced Studies and is a quiet place for PhD students to research their theses. I took in the tour of the place, seeing the table where they partitioned Pakistan and India, and trying to imagine what it was like back then in the colonial days. Walking the gardens, I wondered who I would be if I lived back then. Would I be the

Viceroy’s wife looking out the window of this lodge at a rainstorm in the distance, or a civil servant diligently going over his books, or a military man trotting around in his uniform atop his mighty horse. Would I look at the Indians as people or as lowly servants that wait on me? Would they be my friends or just people in the back ground as I went about my business. Those

were my thoughts as I wandered through the woods on my way back slowly contemplating colonial matters as the soft afternoon colors painted the sky. A cold wind blew up and the skies turned grey, threatening a rainstorm but it seemd to pass Shimla and dropped its raindrops somewhere else. The mix of smoke and incense wafted through the air as I made my way along the Ridge, past the Kali Mari temple and up to Scandal Point, the peak of Shimla.
There’s an old decrepit house up there, abandoned, rotting, holding on to its former glory

that I like to stop and look at. It reminds me somewhat of Grey Gardens and I half expect the Indian version of Big and Little Edie to come out and talk to me as I stop to gaze in the broken windows and open doorways. I try to imagine what happiness was had in this house, the parties, the different people who lived in over the years and the last people who lived there and the final day they left. Was it hard for them to leave? Were they forced out for some reason? Did

the last person leave happily or sadly? Who knows, I guess I can research it and find out. But there are reports to write, essays and surveys to look over. Plus I like to imagine what happened there—it makes it more interesting.
The darkness comes and the hillside begins to sparkle. There are loud voices down below and I’m half tempted to tell them to shut up. Man some people are loud. So far I’m doing my best to tune them out but a young boy yelling for his mother and father in a harsh, demanding tone is

hard to ignore. I think he’s gone quiet for now—phew! Will I dine in this evening or go out somewhere. I mixed it up today and had lunch at Nalini, the vegetarian restaurant. Maybe I’ll dine at the Embassy or the Ashiana. We’ll see. The moon is about ½ full and the first star is

visible right below it (remind me which one is that?). I’ve just made my wish: Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may I wish I might on the first star I see tonight. Closing my eyes, I send my wish out into the world and hope it comes true. Simultaneously my Afghans are looking up back at home at the same moon and star. They’ll be finishing their evening prayers about now and I wonder if they’ll be looking up at the same moon and star, making their own wishes. It;’s the one thing that keeps us connected tonight. May my wish find its way to all of them and to the others that were included in that wish.

Shimla walks...

Seems it got cold today here in Shimla. The sky is overcast and the sun is not shining as it

was yesterday at this time. Oh well, can’t control the weather, it does what it wants to do and we must adjust to it. The hillside I can see from my window seems to be coming alive, with voices, crows cawing, music blaring from somewhere as another day dawns. I meant to get up and walk this morning but somehow I’m not in the mood for it. I walked my feet off yesterday, first in the morning doing a healthy walk down the Mall, along the Ridge to the other end of town. It seems

the thing to do here early in the morning, lots of people doing a morning walk back and forth through town. I did an hour walk and then plopped myself at the Indian Coffee House for breakfast. It’s a nice old place with comfy seats and woodened paneled walls. Very old school

and classy. For the first time I had coffee, since the Indian Coffee House doesn’t serve tea (well who knew?!?). I feared that drinking coffee after so long would make me bananas but it didn’t. The quality was a bit above Nescafe, so I was fine.
Most of my days here will be spent writing three reports for my jobs. I break up the writing

by taking walks around town, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. My afternoon walk has been up to the Jakhoo Temple, a steep climb up a hill through the woods to the temple honoring Hanuman, the Monkey God. It’s hard to miss it given the giant orange statue that looms high above the trees that can be seen from down below in town. He watches over all of us as if to

protect Shimla and its people from harm. Legend has it that Hanuman dropped a sandal on this hilltop as he was flying by and thus it has becom a revered place. Another version has it that he stopped to rest here after his big battle with Raven the evil king in Sri Lanka. I like Hanuman, he is becoming a favorite of mine, right after Ganesh. He is brave and strong and seems to help people when things are not going their way. I like to hike up and get support

from the Monkey God in these contemplative days of mine.

I like to go pray at the temple, sit and think about what's going to happen next. It helps me to know that everything will be all right.
Of course what is a temple to a Monkey God without monkeys. Lots of monkeys! They are interesting creatures and sometimes when I look at them, I can see a bit of human in them.

Emotions in their eyes, the way they walk, lay around, communicate—it’s just like us really, just on a more primitive level. They lounge around picking bugs off each other, hiss and scream, chase each other from a marked territory, fight over food, love their young, play with

each other--so interesting to watch them. If you’re not careful, they will snatch your things and carry them off. The other day, one monkey snatched a man’s glasses and went up on the roof

with them. He offered the monkey something else and the monkey dropped the glasses and grabbed the other thing, quite a clever way of getting your specs back I must say. After visiting the temple, I stop for a cup of tea at the Shri Mahavir Café before heading down. It’s a nice place

to watch people and enjoy the sunset up on the hill.
My favorite place to eat thus far is the Embassy Restaurant, a peaceful little place with a

gorgeous view of the town. The dining area is perfect in the afternoon when the sun fills the space, shining in from the small little windows that take up most of the walls. It’s a glorious

place to sit and eat delicious home cooked meals served up by the proprietor, a lovely man who is a devotee of Krishnamurti. The restaurant is covered with little stories, quotes and anecdotes from lots of people both famous and not famous so it’s a nice distraction as you sip

your banana lassi and wait for your food. It’s my lunch spot and I’m sure by the end of the week I will have tried everything on the menu. As I pay the bill, the kind gentleman tries to get me in to a philosophical discussion and talk at length on Krishnamurthi, which I entertain

for a few minutes before I carry on my day.
It seems like a good day to stay indoors today. Bit overcast and cold, possibly rain later on? Well, in any case I have oodles of work to do and I can’t exhaust my fingertips blogging all day. May today be a productive day so I can spen more time enjoying later in the week.