On the road

One of the absolute highlights in Ethiopia was the drive we took from Gonder to another historical city, the amazing Lalibela.



The drive southeast, with a steadfast Yonase behind the steering wheel, took 11 hours, partly on smooth asphalt but mostly on rough gravel.
It allowed us to see a lot of the countryside, passing through areas where we sometimes wondered if the locals had ever met a forenji before.






Many of my all-time favorite photographs come from this drive. We quickly fell in love with the gorgeous landscape. The green, lush, curvy fields rolled along, interspersed with hilltops, ficus trees and colorful flowers. Donkeys, goats and cows grazed aplenty. This was at the end of the rain season, a time when nature here vibrates with life. (Come in January or March though, Yonase told us, and the landscape will be grayish brown, dry and dusty, void of much life.)


In stark contrast to the beautiful landscape was the deep poverty we found in its midst. Here, in rural Ethiopia, poverty is about as real as you can get. Signs were plenty. Women washing clothes in creeks. Small mud huts that served as homes dotting the fields. Young men and boys struggling to plow the fields with the help of two oxes and a whip.
Often when we stopped the car to take in the view men, women or children would suddenly appear. Emerging from a nearby field or walking along the road, they reveled in checking us out -- and we them. In Addis Ababa most people, it seemed, could speak at least a little bit of English. Not so out here in the countryside. Instead they used the most international lingo of all -- body language -- to signal to us that they were curious and welcoming. They may have been materially poor, but spiritually they seemed rich as they repeatedly embraced us with friendly energy.