Boarding the Bombardier 400 Turboprop in Addis, I was surrounded by tourists, all of us cramming into the tiny craft to see the same thing, the rock-hewn churches of Lalibela. For the first time in 8 weeks, I happened to come across a fellow state-mate, a Columbia University MBA student from Memphis who gave me a high-five upon spotting the Tennessee flag patch on my bag. Joseph was travelling with two of his classmates on a pre-vacation before working with a microloan charity…Sharon from Brazil, and Yael, an Israeli-American from Massachusetts. On the short flight, we made friends, and after discovering that we were all staying at the same hotel, they invited me to join them on their tour, helping to split the cost of their guide, Tilahun. The Tukul Village Hotel appeared to be the nicest in town, set in a primo location, and the place where Bill Clinton stayed during his visit. The panorama from my modified tukul (a traditional circular dwelling with a thatched roof) was stellar, and included a birds-eye view of the most famous structure in all of Ethiopia, known as Bet Giyorgis, the rock-hewn cathedral of St. George.
It's hard to describe the magnitude of the churches of Lalibela. Imagine standing on a mountain with solid rock beneath your feet. Then, use nothing but a hammer and chisel to sculpt perfectly aligned churches over 40 feet tall out of the stone. Many are completely monolithic, not merely carved into the side of the mountain, but entirely freed from it.
In the 1100’s, when the town was called Roha, King Lalibela was poisoned by his jealous half-brother and left comatose for three days. In what can be only be described as a near-death experience, King Lalibela met his maker, who ordered him to return to Earth and build the new Jerusalem, the original in the hands of Muslims at that time. Everything about the complex is symbolic. There are churches that stand for Jerusalem and Bethlehem, a canal named for the River Jordan, underground tunnels that represent Hell separated from "Paradise" by a narrow crack based on Jesus’ statement regarding rich men and a camel passing through the eye of a needle. (Back in those days, a wealthy man would likely be overweight and therefore unable to squeeze through it)
There are so many legends surrounding the churches of Lalibela that my laptop would run out of memory before I could write about them all. They are still very active and very important houses of worship. Each church hosts a plethora of priests, spending their time between prayer teaching young boys (training to be “deacons”) the ancient church language of Ge’ez…essentially to Ethiopian Copts what Latin is to Roman Catholics. The uniqueness of Ethiopian faith was a frequent topic of discussion during the tour. Usually, when Americans like me think of Christianity in Africa, we picture Caucasian missionaries infiltrating the animist world of jungle dwellers. It’s so alien to explore an exclusively African church, thousands of years old. Christianity is the state religion of Ethiopia, and the majority of the population remains devoutly devoted to this faith. Whether you’re talking with a clergyman or layperson, the belief that Ethiopians are decedents of a love affair between King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba is not up for debate. To the people of Lalibela, citing the assistance of angels in the carving of the churches is not only a plausible, but factual explanation as to their construction. Although I’ve wondered if the high unemployment rate here promotes joining the Cloth, seeing so many souls devoting every waking minute to worship was awe-inspiring. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed such a non-secularized Christian culture.
Besides the churches, there’s not much else to see or do in Lalibela, save hiking the mountains (which are beautiful) and watching people walking their wares to the Saturday market from as far as 30 miles away (which is memorable). It is a town of only 30,000 people, and unfortunately, many of them are all too eager to exploit their location as a tourist destination to pester sightseers. From the moment you make contact with the cobblestone, you are approached by children saying, “Hello! Money?” or regaling you with highly unlikely sob stories designed to get you to cough up some cash. That said, it is definitely an annoyance rather than a danger (even late at night) and for the most part, I had a great time. Tilahun was particularly helpful, and I never once felt pressured to give him more than the compensation agreed upon for being a guide, which is common here. After a sunset dinner at an awesome new restaurant sitting on the edge of a cliff, Tilahun took us to his favorite Tej Bet so that my tour-mates could try the local honey wine I’d talked so much about. While one flask was enough for our new friends, Tilahun and I had a great chat over a second round. In the short time I’d known him, I felt like Tilahun and I made quite a connection, and I wish nothing but the best for him and his dream of moving to America someday. He is a nice, honest and trustworthy guy, and his lack of greed only made me want to tip him more. If you ever end up in Lalibela to see the stunning stone churches, do yourself a favor and hire Tilahun Abebaw. Again, it’s a tiny town, so you’ll be able to find him by name.
