Nov. 7 and 8
On the 7th Tamrat came over again and we talked some more about the Orthodox church. Then I went with him to Tekla haimonut to observe a children’s class seeing a “Thank You Song”
Laptop stopped functioning properly and so for today the ethnographic record is mostly field recording and paper notes.
Nov. 8th
J&J performed vascular surgery on my laptop by cutting a section out, splicing the silver and copper wires separately, then taping each with electrical tape. Laptop seems to be functioning again (for the time being!)
At 5 PM went to the Bible Society Building to see some other traditional instruments. Gebre is recording the New Testament onto CD for people who aren’t able to read the bible. Spent a few hours here. Most of it was discussing the project and this was done in Tigrinya.
I did see how Ethiopian music relies on the pentatonic scale. There were a few handmade flutes made from bamboo and another stringed instrument looking like a cross between a harp and a guitar.
There was also an electric keyboard which was brought, a yahmaha from America that had to be used with a power converter. The musician selected a flute sound and played the melodies to the prayer chanting using the C pentatonic scale. There was generally a fast turn on C-D-C and then back down the scale (cdc a g f)
I also learned that most of the chanting is word for word from the bible, just set to a melody. The drum is used to mark the beat.
For dinner (8:45) we went to Geeza Galarsey were there was traditional dancing and a popular style of music.
The female dancers wore long white dresses with the hems lined in colorful (red, yellow, black, green) geometric patterns. They also wore layers of big beaded necklaces, which became a percussion instrument when they jumped and shook their necks to the side.
A big component of this type of dancing is jumping in time and also moving shoulders to the back and the front. There is much more upper body dancing (not necessarily arms, but upper body) than in any other type of dance I have seen. The dancers don’t really use their hands or fingers in any type of intricate gesture, but instead move their shoulders back and forth quite quickly, further subdividing the beat.
The males changed dress for many of the different dance numbers, but one outfit they wore several times was a silk white shirt and pants. Quite simple.
The clothes are oversized and flowing, and patterned scarves are also used frequently as extensions of the arms, and because the clothing flows so well it looks quite beautiful.
One song in particular was about how in Tigray there are 5 ethnicities. This song told the story of how a man had fallen in love with a girl from a different ethnicity, but his parents would not allow him to marry her. He talked about the pain in his heart, but there was something he could do about it, and at that point the music began to get louder and the dancers began to jump higher and shake faster.
(translation by Daniel, an Ethiopian).
Nov. 9th.
The water turned back on today (yay!) so I got to take a shower and it was marvelous.
Impressions:
Kids saying “soft soft soft soft soft” selling Kleenex.
Coffee Ceremony!!
Friday November 9th
Talked with Kibron and set up an interview for next Thursday, when he is available. Heard that his room where his wife and three children live (a 15X25 ft. place) was rented for 250 birr (~$30/month) to 280 birr, and he’s now looking for a new place since he can’t afford the increase.
Watching a story on TV about Ethiopian runners and how they train- some actually have to pay to train on a real track, so many run in the mountains instead.
Kids playing tether ball with a old frayed rope and sand filled sock.
Brown juice bars. No water. (tinish, whatever that means)
The guard who stomps his foot and salutes us and gives us a high five.
Girl with snoopy backpack being teased and chased by the boy. Gabe and Connie and how kind they are.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
November 5th
Today was not the best day. Woke up and taught at the school. Mostly working on superlatives, and we’re trying to explain to them the exceptions, because their book doesn’t really explain them.
At lunch we had a garlic soup- very tasty but probably not the best thing to eat while living in close quarters- but it was one of the only non-meat items.
There are two fasting days per week in which there are vegetarian items available, but the rest of the days, good luck! Even in the most meat heavy restaurants, you can ask for a fasting menu on Wednesdays and Fridays, which is just another way of how religion is integrated into every day life here.
I am not doing so well with the food and the stomach issues- I’m not sure what it is. I was sick today-nauseous and tired with all of the usual stuffy head, nose, and sore throat. Probably a combination of latent jet lag, dehydration, new foods, and also being around dozens of school kids every day. Like everyday, a dozen kids or so followed us the mile through the fields, many barefoot, carrying water in plastic jugs, using plastic bags or pieces of cloth for backpacks, and took turns holding our hands. We love holding their hands but we are also careful about it because, as Connie put it, you don’t know where their hands have been.
There are so many people working in the field on the way to the orphanage. They have a half day school system so that the children can work in the fields in either the afternoon or morning, and each week they rotate. Because we are here this week, we start a couple hours early and the kids come to work on their English before their regular day, which shows how much these kids want to learn. When one of the orphans (I feel badly that I cannot spell his name and hardly pronounce it) walks with us to school he constantly asks us questions (What is a conjunction? What is a preposition?).
I feel a little bad that they are having to learn English. I think it is good to learn other languages, but it just seems, I don’t know, a little unfair that they have to learn English to even go to high school. On the other hand, Gebre from the orphanage really wants them to all learn English so that they do have opportunity.
After we got done at the orphanage I was very tired and not feeling well and so I took a nap.
Tamrat came over at 5 as promised and I interviewed him for about an hour until he had to go back to the church. It was slow going what with the language issues but generally we talked more about the structure of the church, and also his life history.
At one point JM and D came in to listen as well (and I think Tamrat enjoyed the attention). He pointed out that since they were both single, that they were free to marry each other. They just kind of laughed, so Tamrat repeated this idea for their benefit.
He told us that the congregation at the church was very happy that we had come on Sunday and that several people even left comments in the comments box saying how happy they were that we came to visit them.
At about 7 PM or so we went to eat dinner at the home of some Italians who are part of an NGO working to get better education to Ethiopian women and also to help them avoid prostitution, which is very prominent in Ethiopia. It is almost viewed as an acceptable work for women who are trying to put themselves through school.
The medical students have seen the corollary of this in the hospital, where there are many STDs and and fistulas.
At any rate on of the Italian students is working on his thesis concerning the Ethiopian transmission to democracy. They had internet at their house and so I tried again to get onto Blogger or Wordpress, and Marco saw and explained that all blogging sites have been banned by the Ethiopian government.
The Italians fed us pasta and salad washed in clean water with potatoes and beets and carrots and tomatoes and it was wonderful. Unfortunately, we (I guess I should say “I” because I think everyone else was happy) kind of got stuck there (they live in dark area and I wouldn’t have been able to find my way back and so I had to wait for everyone else to get a group taxi) until pretty late and so I didn’t accomplish much in the way of writing or ethnography.
November 6th
I’m feeling a little better, but still achy and sore throat and stomach issues. But on the whole better.
To get to the school we are driven as far of the orphanage and then we walk the mile to the school. Many of the students walk several miles.
Today we talked about Animals, mostly about chimpanzees. The kids are warming up to the idea of raising hands and responding. I think it helps that we’re completely willing to make total idiots out of ourselves in order to get the kids to laugh. We bump each others hips and have a lot of fun playing charades to help them understand the meaning of new vocabulary words. Stickers continue to be a big motivator- I’m about to run out though, so I’m thinking about what else I can use. Maybe give away pens? Candies? (is that a bad idea?) or maybe by then they will just be used to participating.
The younger children crowd around the doors and windows while we are teaching and sometimes it gets so crowded that we have to shoo them away, just because it gets loud. So today at the end of class I pretended to be a monster and really scared a few of the kids, then they realized I was playing and we started to play a little game of chase, which they loved. They are SO fast though, I can’t catch them.
Then the director came out and didn’t look too happy so I felt bad. Today even more kids than usual followed us back to the orphanage- at least 20, maybe more. One carried my notebook for me so I gave him a couple birr for it. Now I probably won’t ever be able to carry my notebook again.
At the orphanage we tried to help Connie for a little while and she made us tuna sandwiches. She is always feeding us, every time we go, even though she claims she can’t cook. So far she has made us blueberry muffins, roasted corn from her fields for us, and now tuna sandwiches. The woman is a saint.
Then the driver for the orphanage took us back. He wants to take us on a tour of the museum in town and also show us a tour of the SOS children’s village, but I’m not sure when we will have time- we are leaving on Saturday for Axum.
On the way, we plan to see rock-hewn churches and we will be with a driver who will be able to hopefully translate for us with the priest.
I am a little sad about leaving my contacts here in Mekelle, because I was just starting to develop relationships with them, especially Kibron and Tamrat.
I am looking forward to meeting Fisseha, though, who just arrived in Mekelle today (Fisseha is one of the main people I was in contact with prior to arriving in Ethiopia- director of tourism in Axum).
This afternoon I went back to the church- there is an evening service every night, but tonight there were far fewer people. Only about 20 or so.
I took some notes during the service, with Tamrat sitting next to me and translating for me. Afterwards, Tamrat showed me the Sunday school area, where they study the bible. I pointed to a drum that was in the room, and Tamrat picked it up and I was able to video them singing a song about St. Yared. Afterwards Tamrat escorted me back, but I am going to go back to the church tomorrow morning around 6AM to see what it is like on a fasting day to see if it is any different.
Apparently, in the mornings, people go only to pray; there is not a service like in the evenings in and on Sunday mornings. Tamrat also said he would allow me to take pictures of the church so that I could come back and show people what their church is like.
Also, Tamrat asked for help buying new clothes. I have noticed that he wears the same clothes every day (and actually, so have I, for the most part). I want to help him, he has helped me so much, but I’m not sure what would be appropriate. He sleeps in the church, and doesn’t have any income (his work involves praying with people and preaching, making announcements at the end of the service and talking with people about God, and counseling people if they ask). I know he does a lot of good things for the people in the church and he of course has been a great help to me, but what he asked for (when I asked for a specific number) is quite a lot (500 birr or a little over $50, which here is quite a lot) to buy clothes and I’m not sure what I should do or if it is appropriate for me to do so. I have already given some birr for seeing the church and always put some in the offering box (not necessarily a lot, but a little every time I go to the church). I also bought some recordings of church music from him, the same one they raffle away (everyone gives one birr and writes their name down, then one name is pulled out of the box and the cd of church music is given to that person).
There are a lot of ethical issues involved that keep coming up (should I take a photograph, should I film, should I give the church money) and while I want to help, I don’t want to be taken advantage of, and the short time frame makes it really hard to learn all of the ‘rules.’ I also want to help all of the kids that walk to school with us, and I want to buy them all shoes and a good bag for their books and buy books for the kids who don’t have one, but it’s just impossible to do it for everyone, so what do you do?
I explained to him that we are all students and that we only brought just enough money with us, but that I would talk with my husband and do what I can. He seemed to accept that we would try and help, and said that any help would be appreciated, but he also didn’t seem to believe me that 500 birr would be a little difficult for me. But I also feel like a jerk because the people here don’t have much, but what they do they are so generous with. We have been treated with such great hospitality and I have seen the hospitality in others.
To conclude the service tonight Deacon Tamrat showed me the prayer which involved saying “Jesus Christ, Lord” while holding your right hand with your left and sliding two fingers over each of the three segments of the four fingers on the right hand (not the thumb). Maybe the three segments are the trinity? (Tamrat stresses Father, Son, Holy Spirit, ONE GOD, quite a lot). Then you repeat the same thing, just saying ‘St. Mary, St. Mary.’
It is a little strange observing things like this just because it is very different from what I grew up with. I am trying to just record and observe exactly what happens to try and understand how they think about religion, or just to understand exactly what their worship consists of.
Tamrat also motioned to me at the end of the service, when the preacher was over, everyone stands up and faces the church (even the priest turns around) and everyone prays together, I believe it is the Lord’s prayer) Then everyone kneels, touched their forehead to the ground, then kisses the ground.
When the priest came up to me I was able to touch my forehead to the cross then kiss the cross at the right time.
People still have to fix my wrap for me, but they are very happy that I wear it. Tonight on the way back I got a lot of “good clothes” comments.
I think it actually makes me the center of MORE attention, because people in Mekelle are used to the occasional faranji (foreigner) but a foreigner wearing the wrap makes me more interesting, but in a positive way.
Something else that I have noticed is that Ethiopians for the most part really love America and seem to have positive feelings about George Bush. I just thought that was interesting given the general anti-Americanism in most foreign countries.
Today one of the Sunday school teachers (one of the ones I was able to videotape) asked me wear I was from and when I said Texas he said “George Bush, yes? Very good.” When he first said George Bush I was a little worried he might have a negative connotation but it was entirely positive.
He was actually one of the fewer number of people who knew right off exactly where Texas was.
Other observation: There is seriously music playing EVERYWHERE here, all the time. People just blast whatever they feel like out of boom boxes on every street corner. Usually it’s Ethiopian music, but occasionally it’s hip hop.
Beyonce came and gave a concert right before we arrived and the Ethiopians LOVED her. It was a really big deal and that’s what I say now when people don’t know where Texas is (it’s where Beyonce is from) and they generally are pretty excited about that. Apparently it was front page news and was broadcast on television everywhere.
Anyway, about 10PM is when the music finally starts to die down, but there’s a club nearby our hotel and so we hear music until midnight at least on most nights. But honestly the only time there isn’t music playing is on the walk to school, or in between songs at church. It’s amazing.
Today was not the best day. Woke up and taught at the school. Mostly working on superlatives, and we’re trying to explain to them the exceptions, because their book doesn’t really explain them.
At lunch we had a garlic soup- very tasty but probably not the best thing to eat while living in close quarters- but it was one of the only non-meat items.
There are two fasting days per week in which there are vegetarian items available, but the rest of the days, good luck! Even in the most meat heavy restaurants, you can ask for a fasting menu on Wednesdays and Fridays, which is just another way of how religion is integrated into every day life here.
I am not doing so well with the food and the stomach issues- I’m not sure what it is. I was sick today-nauseous and tired with all of the usual stuffy head, nose, and sore throat. Probably a combination of latent jet lag, dehydration, new foods, and also being around dozens of school kids every day. Like everyday, a dozen kids or so followed us the mile through the fields, many barefoot, carrying water in plastic jugs, using plastic bags or pieces of cloth for backpacks, and took turns holding our hands. We love holding their hands but we are also careful about it because, as Connie put it, you don’t know where their hands have been.
There are so many people working in the field on the way to the orphanage. They have a half day school system so that the children can work in the fields in either the afternoon or morning, and each week they rotate. Because we are here this week, we start a couple hours early and the kids come to work on their English before their regular day, which shows how much these kids want to learn. When one of the orphans (I feel badly that I cannot spell his name and hardly pronounce it) walks with us to school he constantly asks us questions (What is a conjunction? What is a preposition?).
I feel a little bad that they are having to learn English. I think it is good to learn other languages, but it just seems, I don’t know, a little unfair that they have to learn English to even go to high school. On the other hand, Gebre from the orphanage really wants them to all learn English so that they do have opportunity.
After we got done at the orphanage I was very tired and not feeling well and so I took a nap.
Tamrat came over at 5 as promised and I interviewed him for about an hour until he had to go back to the church. It was slow going what with the language issues but generally we talked more about the structure of the church, and also his life history.
At one point JM and D came in to listen as well (and I think Tamrat enjoyed the attention). He pointed out that since they were both single, that they were free to marry each other. They just kind of laughed, so Tamrat repeated this idea for their benefit.
He told us that the congregation at the church was very happy that we had come on Sunday and that several people even left comments in the comments box saying how happy they were that we came to visit them.
At about 7 PM or so we went to eat dinner at the home of some Italians who are part of an NGO working to get better education to Ethiopian women and also to help them avoid prostitution, which is very prominent in Ethiopia. It is almost viewed as an acceptable work for women who are trying to put themselves through school.
The medical students have seen the corollary of this in the hospital, where there are many STDs and and fistulas.
At any rate on of the Italian students is working on his thesis concerning the Ethiopian transmission to democracy. They had internet at their house and so I tried again to get onto Blogger or Wordpress, and Marco saw and explained that all blogging sites have been banned by the Ethiopian government.
The Italians fed us pasta and salad washed in clean water with potatoes and beets and carrots and tomatoes and it was wonderful. Unfortunately, we (I guess I should say “I” because I think everyone else was happy) kind of got stuck there (they live in dark area and I wouldn’t have been able to find my way back and so I had to wait for everyone else to get a group taxi) until pretty late and so I didn’t accomplish much in the way of writing or ethnography.
November 6th
I’m feeling a little better, but still achy and sore throat and stomach issues. But on the whole better.
To get to the school we are driven as far of the orphanage and then we walk the mile to the school. Many of the students walk several miles.
Today we talked about Animals, mostly about chimpanzees. The kids are warming up to the idea of raising hands and responding. I think it helps that we’re completely willing to make total idiots out of ourselves in order to get the kids to laugh. We bump each others hips and have a lot of fun playing charades to help them understand the meaning of new vocabulary words. Stickers continue to be a big motivator- I’m about to run out though, so I’m thinking about what else I can use. Maybe give away pens? Candies? (is that a bad idea?) or maybe by then they will just be used to participating.
The younger children crowd around the doors and windows while we are teaching and sometimes it gets so crowded that we have to shoo them away, just because it gets loud. So today at the end of class I pretended to be a monster and really scared a few of the kids, then they realized I was playing and we started to play a little game of chase, which they loved. They are SO fast though, I can’t catch them.
Then the director came out and didn’t look too happy so I felt bad. Today even more kids than usual followed us back to the orphanage- at least 20, maybe more. One carried my notebook for me so I gave him a couple birr for it. Now I probably won’t ever be able to carry my notebook again.
At the orphanage we tried to help Connie for a little while and she made us tuna sandwiches. She is always feeding us, every time we go, even though she claims she can’t cook. So far she has made us blueberry muffins, roasted corn from her fields for us, and now tuna sandwiches. The woman is a saint.
Then the driver for the orphanage took us back. He wants to take us on a tour of the museum in town and also show us a tour of the SOS children’s village, but I’m not sure when we will have time- we are leaving on Saturday for Axum.
On the way, we plan to see rock-hewn churches and we will be with a driver who will be able to hopefully translate for us with the priest.
I am a little sad about leaving my contacts here in Mekelle, because I was just starting to develop relationships with them, especially Kibron and Tamrat.
I am looking forward to meeting Fisseha, though, who just arrived in Mekelle today (Fisseha is one of the main people I was in contact with prior to arriving in Ethiopia- director of tourism in Axum).
This afternoon I went back to the church- there is an evening service every night, but tonight there were far fewer people. Only about 20 or so.
I took some notes during the service, with Tamrat sitting next to me and translating for me. Afterwards, Tamrat showed me the Sunday school area, where they study the bible. I pointed to a drum that was in the room, and Tamrat picked it up and I was able to video them singing a song about St. Yared. Afterwards Tamrat escorted me back, but I am going to go back to the church tomorrow morning around 6AM to see what it is like on a fasting day to see if it is any different.
Apparently, in the mornings, people go only to pray; there is not a service like in the evenings in and on Sunday mornings. Tamrat also said he would allow me to take pictures of the church so that I could come back and show people what their church is like.
Also, Tamrat asked for help buying new clothes. I have noticed that he wears the same clothes every day (and actually, so have I, for the most part). I want to help him, he has helped me so much, but I’m not sure what would be appropriate. He sleeps in the church, and doesn’t have any income (his work involves praying with people and preaching, making announcements at the end of the service and talking with people about God, and counseling people if they ask). I know he does a lot of good things for the people in the church and he of course has been a great help to me, but what he asked for (when I asked for a specific number) is quite a lot (500 birr or a little over $50, which here is quite a lot) to buy clothes and I’m not sure what I should do or if it is appropriate for me to do so. I have already given some birr for seeing the church and always put some in the offering box (not necessarily a lot, but a little every time I go to the church). I also bought some recordings of church music from him, the same one they raffle away (everyone gives one birr and writes their name down, then one name is pulled out of the box and the cd of church music is given to that person).
There are a lot of ethical issues involved that keep coming up (should I take a photograph, should I film, should I give the church money) and while I want to help, I don’t want to be taken advantage of, and the short time frame makes it really hard to learn all of the ‘rules.’ I also want to help all of the kids that walk to school with us, and I want to buy them all shoes and a good bag for their books and buy books for the kids who don’t have one, but it’s just impossible to do it for everyone, so what do you do?
I explained to him that we are all students and that we only brought just enough money with us, but that I would talk with my husband and do what I can. He seemed to accept that we would try and help, and said that any help would be appreciated, but he also didn’t seem to believe me that 500 birr would be a little difficult for me. But I also feel like a jerk because the people here don’t have much, but what they do they are so generous with. We have been treated with such great hospitality and I have seen the hospitality in others.
To conclude the service tonight Deacon Tamrat showed me the prayer which involved saying “Jesus Christ, Lord” while holding your right hand with your left and sliding two fingers over each of the three segments of the four fingers on the right hand (not the thumb). Maybe the three segments are the trinity? (Tamrat stresses Father, Son, Holy Spirit, ONE GOD, quite a lot). Then you repeat the same thing, just saying ‘St. Mary, St. Mary.’
It is a little strange observing things like this just because it is very different from what I grew up with. I am trying to just record and observe exactly what happens to try and understand how they think about religion, or just to understand exactly what their worship consists of.
Tamrat also motioned to me at the end of the service, when the preacher was over, everyone stands up and faces the church (even the priest turns around) and everyone prays together, I believe it is the Lord’s prayer) Then everyone kneels, touched their forehead to the ground, then kisses the ground.
When the priest came up to me I was able to touch my forehead to the cross then kiss the cross at the right time.
People still have to fix my wrap for me, but they are very happy that I wear it. Tonight on the way back I got a lot of “good clothes” comments.
I think it actually makes me the center of MORE attention, because people in Mekelle are used to the occasional faranji (foreigner) but a foreigner wearing the wrap makes me more interesting, but in a positive way.
Something else that I have noticed is that Ethiopians for the most part really love America and seem to have positive feelings about George Bush. I just thought that was interesting given the general anti-Americanism in most foreign countries.
Today one of the Sunday school teachers (one of the ones I was able to videotape) asked me wear I was from and when I said Texas he said “George Bush, yes? Very good.” When he first said George Bush I was a little worried he might have a negative connotation but it was entirely positive.
He was actually one of the fewer number of people who knew right off exactly where Texas was.
Other observation: There is seriously music playing EVERYWHERE here, all the time. People just blast whatever they feel like out of boom boxes on every street corner. Usually it’s Ethiopian music, but occasionally it’s hip hop.
Beyonce came and gave a concert right before we arrived and the Ethiopians LOVED her. It was a really big deal and that’s what I say now when people don’t know where Texas is (it’s where Beyonce is from) and they generally are pretty excited about that. Apparently it was front page news and was broadcast on television everywhere.
Anyway, about 10PM is when the music finally starts to die down, but there’s a club nearby our hotel and so we hear music until midnight at least on most nights. But honestly the only time there isn’t music playing is on the walk to school, or in between songs at church. It’s amazing.
November 4,
Starting at 5AM, and hour before dawn, white robes began to filter through the traffic circle beneath the balcony of our hotel room, all on their way to the Tekla Church. There were many beggars sitting around the circle and I was impressed at the frequency in which a person would stop to give change. I was able to video tape this.
About 6:30 (:30 ethiopian time) we headed down the street to the Tekla Church where Deacon Tamrat had invited us. Kibron was waiting downstairs to take us; he escorted our group to the church.
Walking up to the church on a rocky dirt road there were many crippled people begging, and many others dressed in beautiful white scarves on their way to church as well. Lining the road were women trying to sell vegetables and herbs.
Approaching the church I began to hear chanting, which is produced by a megaphone attached to the front of the church. The yard surrounding the church was full of people clothed in white. Circling the round church is a tiled, porch-like area. One side is for women, the other for men. Kibron showed us where to stand, but the men in our group didn’t realize that they were on the female side, and had to be moved back over to the mens’ side.
Since we were on the porch and very close to the church, we took our shoes off, which is what all the Ethiopians had done. The church is too sacred to allow shoes to be worn.
The other 2 girls in our group didn’t stay long and went back to the hotel. I understand why; We couldn’t actually understand what was being said, and there are so many rules that we do not know (which is further compounded by not knowing the language- we can’t ask!)
I stayed, though, and an elderly woman who was standing next to me adjusted my head scarf in the proper way (to represent a cross) and then helped me know when to kneel, lift hands, touch your forehead to the floor.
There would be chanting, and then a different section of the chant would begin, marked by either a different singer, cadence, or an increase or decrease in rhythm. At that point, the church attendees knew when to kneel, touch their foreheads to the ground, or join in the singing.
The woman standing next to me also motioned to me to touch the pillar of the church (which I was standing by). I noticed that many women were touching some part of the church- I believe this is done for the same reason as when people walk by the church and kiss the gates- a sign of respect and recognition of holiness.
There was also a priest or two walking by with a golden Ethiopian cross, which he would press to the forehead of a person’s face, then bring down to their lips for the cross to be kissed.
After about an hour and a half, Tamrat the deacon came up to me, took my shoulders, then kissed the air next to my left cheek, then right, then left again, which is a traditional way of Ethiopian greetings.
Then he asked me where the rest of the group had gone, and I didn’t know what to say- he was a little concerned because he wanted us to go to a coffee ceremony with the chairperson of the church at 8AM.
I should say at this point that although Tamrat speaks English, he nods a lot when he doesn’t actually fully understand what I am saying, and sometimes this causes miscommunications, like for example what time he wants me (or in this case the group) to be someplace. But he tries extremely hard and has gone out of his way to help me.
He asked me to go back to the hotel and get the rest of the group, and he repeated “Don’t Late, Don’t Late” several times. So, I walked as quickly as possible to the hotel, but the group had already changed clothing and thought that Tamrat had said the ceremony wasn’t until 9, so they weren’t very quick about leaving, even though I told them about the “Don’t Late”
So, we ended up getting back to the church about 20 after 8 (our time, 2 Ethiopian time) and the first question Deacon Tamrat asked was “Why Late?”
He seemed upset, but as soon as the boys apologized, Deacon Tamrat said, that’s ok, don’t worry about it. Then he proceeded to give us a tour of the church. He walked us by the women’s section, and then through the men’s, and eventually he led us into the church after he placed all of our shoes in a box by the entrance.
Surprisingly(to me), the inside of the church was not even half full, although outside people were packed around and crowded from the church to the gates, which was a much larger area than the inside of the church. There was thin brown carpet lining the floor, and a few wooden pews- two columns and about 10 benches on each side.
The benches face a circular structure that is also round. This is called the temple, and there are three red curtains. I asked Tamrat what was inside, and he said, “The covenant” but no one is allowed to go inside of the curtains except for the priest.
The priest on the inside was also wearing white robes with silver thread scrolling, and he wore a back hat.
Tamrat took us around the church, pointing to the painted wooden panels that make up the temple and explained the biblical scenes depicted through the paintings.
The biggest point that Tamrat expresses is “Father, Son, Holy Ghost, One God.” He said this quite frequently and with great excitement.
The scenes were quite similar to the types of scenes depicted in stained glass windows in Europe, but the painting is much brighter and the shapes of the faces are different, with darker, wider, and more almond shaped eyes. Mary is shown in blue robes.
There were scenes depicting beheadings, satan (which was a big gray demon with horns, slanted eyes, a dark red tongue and pointy teeth, as well as the first miracle (water into wine) and several scenes depicting Paul, John, James, the Virgin Mary, Jesus, and others.
After the tour of the inside of the church, Tamrat escorted us to the benches in front of the church. There were people already sitting there, who probably needed the bench more than we did, but Tamrat insisted and so we all smooshed together in front of the church and listened to the preaching of the gospel (in Amharic). The preacher acknowledged us and welcomed us through the microphone he was using to preach to the crowd.
After certain pauses by the preacher, the crowd would make a high pitched “ee ee ee ee” call, which I think might be a type of acknowledgement.
He preached for about an hour and a half, and the priests we were sitting between explained from time to time what was being discussed, which was basically about how God would do great things in your life and how he could heal people, and also that you could only have one wife, not two, and you could not get divorced.
Then we all stood and faced the church (which means we turned around) and a prayer was sung, and the entire congregation (right word??) joined in. I got a recording of this. I also got a recording of most of the preaching, but the preaching lasted 3 hours and my recorder only lasts about 2 and a half.
Then announcements were made, and then a theology student who spoke English (slightly better than Tamrat) told us again how welcome we were and that we were their honored guests, and that Christianity reaches beyond borders.
Afterwards it was a matter of shaking hands and embracing the many priests (9 in total) and deacons. Tamrat then escorted us to the office of the clergy for another coffee ceremony (our second in two days!). The woman serving the coffee put three huge scoops of sugar into our cups (our cups are rather small).
We were also brought cups of water. Tamrat and a priest joined us and shortly afterwards three very large rounds of thick bread, wrapped in newspapers. The bread was torn in half, a half given to each group of people (the clergy, J&J, me and D). The bread was so big and so filling it was difficult to finish it, but the priests kept encouraging us to eat more.
The priest seemed concerned that we didn’t like the coffee, so we reassured him several times saying “Good! Good!” The priest does not speak much English.”
We talked a lot about Ethiopian culture. Tamrat said, “You enjoy Ethiopian coffee. Ceremony is part of culture, it is good.” And we explained that to us Ethiopia had shown us so much hospitality that it was difficult to accept, because where we come from, you are supposed to do things for yourself.
The priest asked us all to write our names down, and he was very happy that we all had Christian names. Then he asked us if we had any children, and when we said no, he asked (and was translated through Tamrat, who was also curious,) “Why not? What is the reason?” They were also surprised to find that D and J were unmarried, and again wanted to know what the reason for this was.
Then the priest told us (through Tamrat) to wait until we got rich to have children, because in Africa people were always marrying and having children and having more than 2 children makes them poor. So, he told us to only have 2 children.
The priest spoke for about 5 minutes and when Tamrat translated I think we only got a small sliver of what was actually said.
Frustrations:
I wish I spoke Tigrinya. I am loosing a lot of information that would be very valuable.
Also, my computer power cord was chewed by a puppy the night before I left and I have to spend several minutes fairly frequently adjusting the cord to that power can get through.
Also, while I don’t think anyone in the hotel would steal anything, they leave the keys in a box on the floor while they are cleaning, and it just makes a little nervous with my laptop and research all in the room.
On the plus side:
It makes people very happy when we wear the head scarfs. The lady in the market below our hotel (Seti Market) pointed to me and said “Good” and I have had that reaction from several people, from the receptionist to just random people on the street. Also they have been very nice about adjusting it for me.
I got some fairly good recordings, which is good, and I didn’t do any flash photography today, which is also good. I’m going to try and talk to Tamrat about possibly having him escort me while I take just a few photographs, if I explain my purpose is to show people back home what their services are like. I’ll respect his answers either way.
The other person at the coffee ceremony was a monk, according to Tamrat.
Tamrat explained that the church directly adjacent to Tekla church has been there for over 150 years, so that even though they built the new church (which took 5 years to build) they would never destroy the old church, because that would be a “Treason.”
5PM
Went back to church for what we were told was the English version. It was not in English, but what a wonderful experience.
Tamrat let us to a special bench at the front of the church (the older church), and the priest welcomed us all and the audience clapped. The priest spoke for about an hour (I wish I knew what he was saying!) until about sunset. Tamrat, true to his word, gave us about a 5 minute recap of what the sermon was about, which was basically ‘father son and holy ghost one god” and also the differences between the protestants and the Orthodox Church.
Then singing began (I think I got some really good recordings!)
There was a drum strapped around a musician’s neck. One end was very large, the other small, with heads stretched across both sides so that one end was a deep sound and the other more highly pitched. The drummer would hit the deep end once, following by two faster hits on the higher pitched head.
After some time there was also the bell instrument which was shown to me earlier when Tamrat was giving us a tour
When it became dark, a priest walked around giving everyone a tiny strand of wax that was a candle, and each person used their neighbor’s candle to light their own. Tamrat told us that the fire is supposed to represent Heaven.
Audience participation increased- there was clapping, and also the high pitched “ee ee ee ee ee ee” cries at certain points in the chant. People also began to sway from side to side, and the musicians and singers formed a circle and began to walk around in a circle around the drum. The audience joined in the singing at this point.
When the song was close to being finished, a priest came by and collected the remainder of the candles. People began to file out of the church doors, and dozens of children ran up to us and we kissed the air next to their cheeks and shook all of their hands.
Tamrat wants to come over to our hotel tomorrow at 5 o’clock to talk some more.
Starting at 5AM, and hour before dawn, white robes began to filter through the traffic circle beneath the balcony of our hotel room, all on their way to the Tekla Church. There were many beggars sitting around the circle and I was impressed at the frequency in which a person would stop to give change. I was able to video tape this.
About 6:30 (:30 ethiopian time) we headed down the street to the Tekla Church where Deacon Tamrat had invited us. Kibron was waiting downstairs to take us; he escorted our group to the church.
Walking up to the church on a rocky dirt road there were many crippled people begging, and many others dressed in beautiful white scarves on their way to church as well. Lining the road were women trying to sell vegetables and herbs.
Approaching the church I began to hear chanting, which is produced by a megaphone attached to the front of the church. The yard surrounding the church was full of people clothed in white. Circling the round church is a tiled, porch-like area. One side is for women, the other for men. Kibron showed us where to stand, but the men in our group didn’t realize that they were on the female side, and had to be moved back over to the mens’ side.
Since we were on the porch and very close to the church, we took our shoes off, which is what all the Ethiopians had done. The church is too sacred to allow shoes to be worn.
The other 2 girls in our group didn’t stay long and went back to the hotel. I understand why; We couldn’t actually understand what was being said, and there are so many rules that we do not know (which is further compounded by not knowing the language- we can’t ask!)
I stayed, though, and an elderly woman who was standing next to me adjusted my head scarf in the proper way (to represent a cross) and then helped me know when to kneel, lift hands, touch your forehead to the floor.
There would be chanting, and then a different section of the chant would begin, marked by either a different singer, cadence, or an increase or decrease in rhythm. At that point, the church attendees knew when to kneel, touch their foreheads to the ground, or join in the singing.
The woman standing next to me also motioned to me to touch the pillar of the church (which I was standing by). I noticed that many women were touching some part of the church- I believe this is done for the same reason as when people walk by the church and kiss the gates- a sign of respect and recognition of holiness.
There was also a priest or two walking by with a golden Ethiopian cross, which he would press to the forehead of a person’s face, then bring down to their lips for the cross to be kissed.
After about an hour and a half, Tamrat the deacon came up to me, took my shoulders, then kissed the air next to my left cheek, then right, then left again, which is a traditional way of Ethiopian greetings.
Then he asked me where the rest of the group had gone, and I didn’t know what to say- he was a little concerned because he wanted us to go to a coffee ceremony with the chairperson of the church at 8AM.
I should say at this point that although Tamrat speaks English, he nods a lot when he doesn’t actually fully understand what I am saying, and sometimes this causes miscommunications, like for example what time he wants me (or in this case the group) to be someplace. But he tries extremely hard and has gone out of his way to help me.
He asked me to go back to the hotel and get the rest of the group, and he repeated “Don’t Late, Don’t Late” several times. So, I walked as quickly as possible to the hotel, but the group had already changed clothing and thought that Tamrat had said the ceremony wasn’t until 9, so they weren’t very quick about leaving, even though I told them about the “Don’t Late”
So, we ended up getting back to the church about 20 after 8 (our time, 2 Ethiopian time) and the first question Deacon Tamrat asked was “Why Late?”
He seemed upset, but as soon as the boys apologized, Deacon Tamrat said, that’s ok, don’t worry about it. Then he proceeded to give us a tour of the church. He walked us by the women’s section, and then through the men’s, and eventually he led us into the church after he placed all of our shoes in a box by the entrance.
Surprisingly(to me), the inside of the church was not even half full, although outside people were packed around and crowded from the church to the gates, which was a much larger area than the inside of the church. There was thin brown carpet lining the floor, and a few wooden pews- two columns and about 10 benches on each side.
The benches face a circular structure that is also round. This is called the temple, and there are three red curtains. I asked Tamrat what was inside, and he said, “The covenant” but no one is allowed to go inside of the curtains except for the priest.
The priest on the inside was also wearing white robes with silver thread scrolling, and he wore a back hat.
Tamrat took us around the church, pointing to the painted wooden panels that make up the temple and explained the biblical scenes depicted through the paintings.
The biggest point that Tamrat expresses is “Father, Son, Holy Ghost, One God.” He said this quite frequently and with great excitement.
The scenes were quite similar to the types of scenes depicted in stained glass windows in Europe, but the painting is much brighter and the shapes of the faces are different, with darker, wider, and more almond shaped eyes. Mary is shown in blue robes.
There were scenes depicting beheadings, satan (which was a big gray demon with horns, slanted eyes, a dark red tongue and pointy teeth, as well as the first miracle (water into wine) and several scenes depicting Paul, John, James, the Virgin Mary, Jesus, and others.
After the tour of the inside of the church, Tamrat escorted us to the benches in front of the church. There were people already sitting there, who probably needed the bench more than we did, but Tamrat insisted and so we all smooshed together in front of the church and listened to the preaching of the gospel (in Amharic). The preacher acknowledged us and welcomed us through the microphone he was using to preach to the crowd.
After certain pauses by the preacher, the crowd would make a high pitched “ee ee ee ee” call, which I think might be a type of acknowledgement.
He preached for about an hour and a half, and the priests we were sitting between explained from time to time what was being discussed, which was basically about how God would do great things in your life and how he could heal people, and also that you could only have one wife, not two, and you could not get divorced.
Then we all stood and faced the church (which means we turned around) and a prayer was sung, and the entire congregation (right word??) joined in. I got a recording of this. I also got a recording of most of the preaching, but the preaching lasted 3 hours and my recorder only lasts about 2 and a half.
Then announcements were made, and then a theology student who spoke English (slightly better than Tamrat) told us again how welcome we were and that we were their honored guests, and that Christianity reaches beyond borders.
Afterwards it was a matter of shaking hands and embracing the many priests (9 in total) and deacons. Tamrat then escorted us to the office of the clergy for another coffee ceremony (our second in two days!). The woman serving the coffee put three huge scoops of sugar into our cups (our cups are rather small).
We were also brought cups of water. Tamrat and a priest joined us and shortly afterwards three very large rounds of thick bread, wrapped in newspapers. The bread was torn in half, a half given to each group of people (the clergy, J&J, me and D). The bread was so big and so filling it was difficult to finish it, but the priests kept encouraging us to eat more.
The priest seemed concerned that we didn’t like the coffee, so we reassured him several times saying “Good! Good!” The priest does not speak much English.”
We talked a lot about Ethiopian culture. Tamrat said, “You enjoy Ethiopian coffee. Ceremony is part of culture, it is good.” And we explained that to us Ethiopia had shown us so much hospitality that it was difficult to accept, because where we come from, you are supposed to do things for yourself.
The priest asked us all to write our names down, and he was very happy that we all had Christian names. Then he asked us if we had any children, and when we said no, he asked (and was translated through Tamrat, who was also curious,) “Why not? What is the reason?” They were also surprised to find that D and J were unmarried, and again wanted to know what the reason for this was.
Then the priest told us (through Tamrat) to wait until we got rich to have children, because in Africa people were always marrying and having children and having more than 2 children makes them poor. So, he told us to only have 2 children.
The priest spoke for about 5 minutes and when Tamrat translated I think we only got a small sliver of what was actually said.
Frustrations:
I wish I spoke Tigrinya. I am loosing a lot of information that would be very valuable.
Also, my computer power cord was chewed by a puppy the night before I left and I have to spend several minutes fairly frequently adjusting the cord to that power can get through.
Also, while I don’t think anyone in the hotel would steal anything, they leave the keys in a box on the floor while they are cleaning, and it just makes a little nervous with my laptop and research all in the room.
On the plus side:
It makes people very happy when we wear the head scarfs. The lady in the market below our hotel (Seti Market) pointed to me and said “Good” and I have had that reaction from several people, from the receptionist to just random people on the street. Also they have been very nice about adjusting it for me.
I got some fairly good recordings, which is good, and I didn’t do any flash photography today, which is also good. I’m going to try and talk to Tamrat about possibly having him escort me while I take just a few photographs, if I explain my purpose is to show people back home what their services are like. I’ll respect his answers either way.
The other person at the coffee ceremony was a monk, according to Tamrat.
Tamrat explained that the church directly adjacent to Tekla church has been there for over 150 years, so that even though they built the new church (which took 5 years to build) they would never destroy the old church, because that would be a “Treason.”
5PM
Went back to church for what we were told was the English version. It was not in English, but what a wonderful experience.
Tamrat let us to a special bench at the front of the church (the older church), and the priest welcomed us all and the audience clapped. The priest spoke for about an hour (I wish I knew what he was saying!) until about sunset. Tamrat, true to his word, gave us about a 5 minute recap of what the sermon was about, which was basically ‘father son and holy ghost one god” and also the differences between the protestants and the Orthodox Church.
Then singing began (I think I got some really good recordings!)
There was a drum strapped around a musician’s neck. One end was very large, the other small, with heads stretched across both sides so that one end was a deep sound and the other more highly pitched. The drummer would hit the deep end once, following by two faster hits on the higher pitched head.
After some time there was also the bell instrument which was shown to me earlier when Tamrat was giving us a tour
When it became dark, a priest walked around giving everyone a tiny strand of wax that was a candle, and each person used their neighbor’s candle to light their own. Tamrat told us that the fire is supposed to represent Heaven.
Audience participation increased- there was clapping, and also the high pitched “ee ee ee ee ee ee” cries at certain points in the chant. People also began to sway from side to side, and the musicians and singers formed a circle and began to walk around in a circle around the drum. The audience joined in the singing at this point.
When the song was close to being finished, a priest came by and collected the remainder of the candles. People began to file out of the church doors, and dozens of children ran up to us and we kissed the air next to their cheeks and shook all of their hands.
Tamrat wants to come over to our hotel tomorrow at 5 o’clock to talk some more.
November 3
This morning I woke up about 5 AM to get ready to go to the church with Kibron, the taxi driver. He had told me he was going to show me around, but he had to pick somebody up from the airport, but he took me to the church and walked up the hill with me.
At the base of the hill, an Ethiopian woman motioned to me and she put my prayer wrap over my head and both ends lifted and placed securely over each opposite shoulder. This is intended to represent the cross.
The wrap that Kibron selected for me is very simple and traditional, and very similar to what most women were wearing. The basic design is a long white cloth that resembles cheesecloth, with a criss-cross stitch connecting two panels. Along the hem of one side of the longest side, there is embroidery with traditional crosses or arrow shaped motifs. Generally, the wrap covers your head down to the knees. Some women’s designs are much more elaborate and colorful, others had a plain white cloth, but in general the idea was the same.
Many men had their heads covered as well, but there were no women without a wrap.
Climbing up the hill were hundreds of similarly dressed people, covered in white, because today is St George’s day, and coming to St. George’s church on his day will help to grant you a wish. Because they are making a journey to a specific church on a specific day, for spiritual reasons, which they might not have otherwise done had it not been St. George’s day, I am going to call these people pilgrims.
There were also many beggars, as well as people selling crosses, prayer books, even vegetables on the sides of the hill.
Inside of the church there was a cloth laid out with a pile of dirt on it. People picked up a piece of paper or a leaf, and placed the dirt on top of it, then placed the dirt in their mouths. When I ran into Kibron later that day, he showed me that he had about five or six different little packets of dirt in his ashtray in his taxi, all from different churches. He explained the purpose of the dirt , which you can either place on your tongue and eat by itself, or you can mix with water and use it as a drink, is to cleanse and heal the body, or just make you feel better. He told me that you should take your medicines, but afterwards you should eat some dirt from the churches.
The chanting in the morning definitely comes from St. George’s Church, which has a megaphone attached to the front so that people outside the church can hear.
Generally the pilgrims at the church faced toward the front, although several turned around to stare at me- I was the only white person there. Kibron had to leave for the airport to pick someone up, but after he initially left, I just was standing there, not knowing exactly what to do, but then Kibron came back and told me, “Sarai, do not be afraid, it is alright, go in the church.” Then he walked away.
So, I put my sandals into a plastic bag and went to the front of the church. Most people were standing outside of the church, and the people who did go in knelt on the ground and kissed it before entering. I just went in a little way, then looked around, and came back out. I was very self conscious, and I still don’t know how exactly I’m supposed to act or what I’m supposed to do. I don’t want to offend anyone, especially in their place of worship.
Then, disaster struck. I now know why James Spradley writes about ethnographers who hide out in their hotel rooms for weeks before they begin to get any work done. At first I didn’t understand it- after all the anticipation and work leading up to a research trip, how could you get there and suddenly want to hide out? Now I know why.
I was looking at a sea of people cloaked in white, raising their hands and alternately kneeling, and there was a small child wearing a brown dress and white covering who had twisted around and was staring at me under the arms of her mother. I thought I could discreetly take a picture by just peeking the lens of my camera out from under my cloak, but although I thought I had turned off the flash, I PUSHED THE WRONG BUTTON. My camera flashed. People turned and stared. I. felt. Like. An. Ass. (and I was one, in that moment).
I was also having trouble fumbling around with my recording equipment, and after listening to the recording, I’m pretty disappointed with the quality.
Anyhow, so I walked to the back of the gated area, behind everyone else, and just watched for about an hour. THIS IS WHAT I SHOULD HAVE DONE IN THE FIRST PLACE. Just watch. Observe. Learn.
That way, when you make an ass out of yourself, at least you probably did some things right, first.
I feel like I fumbled this one and made just about every mistake possible. That’s ok. I probably won’t be going to St. George’s church again- I just wanted to go to it today because it was his day. Saint George is actually the patron saint of Ethiopia. Sometimes, he is depicted as the king of saints, or other times as a great dragon slayer on a horse.
Tomorrow Kibron has promised me to show me around the Tekla Church, which is the one closer to my hotel and also the one where Timrat is the deacon and I have met the priest.
I feel like maybe I should just get over the not wanting to disturb anyone and just take my pictures. I mean, I’m already getting stared at, and maybe if I just walked around, shooting like I had a purpose, then people would understand better what I was there for? But then part of me just makes me feel even worse. I mean, how do professional photographers get some of those shots without being completely insensitive, especially with this type of subject matter, especially with their large camera equipment? Any suggestions???
I truly wish I had gotten some photographs, because it was truly a beautiful seen, all of those people gathered to worship God, some standing, arms outstretched, others kneeling, kissing the ground, all clothed in white cloths, a cross around their necks.
On the way back I had to find my way back to the hotel, since Kibron had left. A little while later Kibron found me walking back (guess I’m not hard to spot in a crowd, even while attempting to blend in by wearing local clothing) and picked me to drive me the rest of the way. He didn’t even charge me. He told me I was brave for going by myself. It will be nice to go with him tomorrow so I having someone to follow/mimic.
12PM
Yesterday afternoon about 2:30 we headed over to the Orphanage to play with the kids. Gabre met our group and he wanted to show them his plans.
He spent a little more time with them talking about his vision for a clinic one day, and also showed him a garden where they grow medicinal plants. Artemesia is grown to cure malaria, and J later showed me an article he had printed off of pub med that demonstrated that in fact the plant does in fact help to treat malaria. They have several other plants growing and I hope maybe one day Connie can show more of the garden to me.
Gabe took us inside and talked to us more about his vision and how it had come to be so far. When they first came here, it was to see their roots. Gabre had been born in Tigray, but moved to Addis Ababa when he was a boy with his parents. This allowed him to get an education, and also this is where he met his wife, where they were high school classmates.
He then moved to India where he received his degree, then to New York where Connie was. After the communist government was overthrown, he said they were able to come for a visit, but when they did, they saw so much need that they knew they wanted to help.
They came here without the funding to build an orphanage, but soon donors heard of what they were doing and began to give. They have one Jewish businessman in particular that has given over 110,000 dollars.
We asked Gebre how much more he would need to finish the rest of the place, and he said about $250,000. When we heard this figure, we were so surprised, because this will buy a school, a dairy farm, chicken coup, a second building for AIDS orphans, and the multi-purpose hall. It is a lot of money, but it just seems like such a small figure for so many good things.
I am continually impressed with how thought-out his plans are- the sections of land not being built on right now were planted with corn so that ‘the rainy season wasn’t wasted” and the future septic system for a second building is currently being used as a rain collector. The land is situated between two mountains, funneling the wind, and he has plans to harness the wind to power the orphanage.
We were sitting in the living area of the orphanage while Gebre was explaining all of this to us, when Connie peeked her head through the window and asked us if we would like roasted corn. She had torn fresh ears of corn from her garden and roasted them outside for us. We all accepted and plucked the kernals from the ear of corn with our fingers- delicious! We eventually had to ask her to stop roasting more ears, because she just kept bringing more!
Gebre also is a fascinating storyteller, and he told us much of the history of Ethiopia. He better explained the entire situation with Eritrea (from an Ethiopian’s perspective, of course). He said that the Eritreans know where the border is, but the UN drew a random line (he said something like “I’m telling you, if that line was used, houses would be split in half!) He said what should have happened was that elders from each side should have been gathered to show officials where the line actually was, because everyone knew where the “real” border is.
He also talked about the Italian aggressions of the 1890s and later in WWII, and how it had drained the countries resources. He is very proud that Ethiopia is the only country to not succumb to colonization by a western force , and was also quick to point out that Ethiopia could never be called an aggressor by any country, that anytime they had engaged in any military moves, it had always been reactionary, and that they had taught many countries good lessons, because they had never been defeated as a country.
He said that even tribes who were fighting with each other would drop their quarrels in order to help fight for Ethiopia.
Playing with Children:
1st Coffee Ceremony:
This morning I woke up about 5 AM to get ready to go to the church with Kibron, the taxi driver. He had told me he was going to show me around, but he had to pick somebody up from the airport, but he took me to the church and walked up the hill with me.
At the base of the hill, an Ethiopian woman motioned to me and she put my prayer wrap over my head and both ends lifted and placed securely over each opposite shoulder. This is intended to represent the cross.
The wrap that Kibron selected for me is very simple and traditional, and very similar to what most women were wearing. The basic design is a long white cloth that resembles cheesecloth, with a criss-cross stitch connecting two panels. Along the hem of one side of the longest side, there is embroidery with traditional crosses or arrow shaped motifs. Generally, the wrap covers your head down to the knees. Some women’s designs are much more elaborate and colorful, others had a plain white cloth, but in general the idea was the same.
Many men had their heads covered as well, but there were no women without a wrap.
Climbing up the hill were hundreds of similarly dressed people, covered in white, because today is St George’s day, and coming to St. George’s church on his day will help to grant you a wish. Because they are making a journey to a specific church on a specific day, for spiritual reasons, which they might not have otherwise done had it not been St. George’s day, I am going to call these people pilgrims.
There were also many beggars, as well as people selling crosses, prayer books, even vegetables on the sides of the hill.
Inside of the church there was a cloth laid out with a pile of dirt on it. People picked up a piece of paper or a leaf, and placed the dirt on top of it, then placed the dirt in their mouths. When I ran into Kibron later that day, he showed me that he had about five or six different little packets of dirt in his ashtray in his taxi, all from different churches. He explained the purpose of the dirt , which you can either place on your tongue and eat by itself, or you can mix with water and use it as a drink, is to cleanse and heal the body, or just make you feel better. He told me that you should take your medicines, but afterwards you should eat some dirt from the churches.
The chanting in the morning definitely comes from St. George’s Church, which has a megaphone attached to the front so that people outside the church can hear.
Generally the pilgrims at the church faced toward the front, although several turned around to stare at me- I was the only white person there. Kibron had to leave for the airport to pick someone up, but after he initially left, I just was standing there, not knowing exactly what to do, but then Kibron came back and told me, “Sarai, do not be afraid, it is alright, go in the church.” Then he walked away.
So, I put my sandals into a plastic bag and went to the front of the church. Most people were standing outside of the church, and the people who did go in knelt on the ground and kissed it before entering. I just went in a little way, then looked around, and came back out. I was very self conscious, and I still don’t know how exactly I’m supposed to act or what I’m supposed to do. I don’t want to offend anyone, especially in their place of worship.
Then, disaster struck. I now know why James Spradley writes about ethnographers who hide out in their hotel rooms for weeks before they begin to get any work done. At first I didn’t understand it- after all the anticipation and work leading up to a research trip, how could you get there and suddenly want to hide out? Now I know why.
I was looking at a sea of people cloaked in white, raising their hands and alternately kneeling, and there was a small child wearing a brown dress and white covering who had twisted around and was staring at me under the arms of her mother. I thought I could discreetly take a picture by just peeking the lens of my camera out from under my cloak, but although I thought I had turned off the flash, I PUSHED THE WRONG BUTTON. My camera flashed. People turned and stared. I. felt. Like. An. Ass. (and I was one, in that moment).
I was also having trouble fumbling around with my recording equipment, and after listening to the recording, I’m pretty disappointed with the quality.
Anyhow, so I walked to the back of the gated area, behind everyone else, and just watched for about an hour. THIS IS WHAT I SHOULD HAVE DONE IN THE FIRST PLACE. Just watch. Observe. Learn.
That way, when you make an ass out of yourself, at least you probably did some things right, first.
I feel like I fumbled this one and made just about every mistake possible. That’s ok. I probably won’t be going to St. George’s church again- I just wanted to go to it today because it was his day. Saint George is actually the patron saint of Ethiopia. Sometimes, he is depicted as the king of saints, or other times as a great dragon slayer on a horse.
Tomorrow Kibron has promised me to show me around the Tekla Church, which is the one closer to my hotel and also the one where Timrat is the deacon and I have met the priest.
I feel like maybe I should just get over the not wanting to disturb anyone and just take my pictures. I mean, I’m already getting stared at, and maybe if I just walked around, shooting like I had a purpose, then people would understand better what I was there for? But then part of me just makes me feel even worse. I mean, how do professional photographers get some of those shots without being completely insensitive, especially with this type of subject matter, especially with their large camera equipment? Any suggestions???
I truly wish I had gotten some photographs, because it was truly a beautiful seen, all of those people gathered to worship God, some standing, arms outstretched, others kneeling, kissing the ground, all clothed in white cloths, a cross around their necks.
On the way back I had to find my way back to the hotel, since Kibron had left. A little while later Kibron found me walking back (guess I’m not hard to spot in a crowd, even while attempting to blend in by wearing local clothing) and picked me to drive me the rest of the way. He didn’t even charge me. He told me I was brave for going by myself. It will be nice to go with him tomorrow so I having someone to follow/mimic.
12PM
Yesterday afternoon about 2:30 we headed over to the Orphanage to play with the kids. Gabre met our group and he wanted to show them his plans.
He spent a little more time with them talking about his vision for a clinic one day, and also showed him a garden where they grow medicinal plants. Artemesia is grown to cure malaria, and J later showed me an article he had printed off of pub med that demonstrated that in fact the plant does in fact help to treat malaria. They have several other plants growing and I hope maybe one day Connie can show more of the garden to me.
Gabe took us inside and talked to us more about his vision and how it had come to be so far. When they first came here, it was to see their roots. Gabre had been born in Tigray, but moved to Addis Ababa when he was a boy with his parents. This allowed him to get an education, and also this is where he met his wife, where they were high school classmates.
He then moved to India where he received his degree, then to New York where Connie was. After the communist government was overthrown, he said they were able to come for a visit, but when they did, they saw so much need that they knew they wanted to help.
They came here without the funding to build an orphanage, but soon donors heard of what they were doing and began to give. They have one Jewish businessman in particular that has given over 110,000 dollars.
We asked Gebre how much more he would need to finish the rest of the place, and he said about $250,000. When we heard this figure, we were so surprised, because this will buy a school, a dairy farm, chicken coup, a second building for AIDS orphans, and the multi-purpose hall. It is a lot of money, but it just seems like such a small figure for so many good things.
I am continually impressed with how thought-out his plans are- the sections of land not being built on right now were planted with corn so that ‘the rainy season wasn’t wasted” and the future septic system for a second building is currently being used as a rain collector. The land is situated between two mountains, funneling the wind, and he has plans to harness the wind to power the orphanage.
We were sitting in the living area of the orphanage while Gebre was explaining all of this to us, when Connie peeked her head through the window and asked us if we would like roasted corn. She had torn fresh ears of corn from her garden and roasted them outside for us. We all accepted and plucked the kernals from the ear of corn with our fingers- delicious! We eventually had to ask her to stop roasting more ears, because she just kept bringing more!
Gebre also is a fascinating storyteller, and he told us much of the history of Ethiopia. He better explained the entire situation with Eritrea (from an Ethiopian’s perspective, of course). He said that the Eritreans know where the border is, but the UN drew a random line (he said something like “I’m telling you, if that line was used, houses would be split in half!) He said what should have happened was that elders from each side should have been gathered to show officials where the line actually was, because everyone knew where the “real” border is.
He also talked about the Italian aggressions of the 1890s and later in WWII, and how it had drained the countries resources. He is very proud that Ethiopia is the only country to not succumb to colonization by a western force , and was also quick to point out that Ethiopia could never be called an aggressor by any country, that anytime they had engaged in any military moves, it had always been reactionary, and that they had taught many countries good lessons, because they had never been defeated as a country.
He said that even tribes who were fighting with each other would drop their quarrels in order to help fight for Ethiopia.
Playing with Children:
1st Coffee Ceremony:
November 1st 2007
Weather in Mekele is quite nice, with lows in the high forties or low fifties, and warming to mid seventies during the day.
Eating has been an adventure, to say the very least. I do have a phrasebook of Tigrayan and Amharic and am learning the various words and so I can generally avoid very spicy foods, but I am not a huge fan of Injera bread, the sour spongy utensil-bread.
Communication is difficult but not impossible. I have learned the very basics (hello, good morning, thank you (I pronounced this incorrectly numerous times and it always gets me laughed at; I’m wondering if I’m saying a word that means something more like grapefruit than thank you).
In Mekele, the sun rises at 0 in the morning, which is 6AM on our clocks, to what sounds like calls to prayer. There is a mosque here, but is fairly far away and I don’t believe in the same direction, and so I am wondering if it is actually the Orthodox Church prayer chanting. Out of the balcony I have observed numerous white robed people walking directly to the Tekla orthodox church near our hotel, and this makes me think it might be the prayer chanting.
I really want to go to the church tomorrow morning and find out. Today is the third day in Mekele- the first morning I was incredibly fatigued with jet lag, and the second morning I was unsure of what type of dress or manners I should bring with me to the church (especially since the women’s heads were covered, and so I didn’t think it would be wise to just roll in dressed with my American clothing among the worshippers without first having spoken with more people about what exactly was expected of me.
Gebre, the orphanage director, put me in contact with a Taxi driver yesterday named Kibron, who speaks very excellent English. On the way to the orphanage this morning Kibron answered many questions I had about the Orthodox Church. He told me that I could definitely visit the churches, and told me a little bit about the protocol, which includes taking your shoes off, and told me that I needed to get a scarf for my head before I went.
He told me that he would go with me, but that he had done some ‘not so good things’ lately and needed to confess before he went back to church. He went on to say you should not go to a club one night and the church the next morning. But, he said the next time he saw me he would take me somewhere to buy the appropriate scarf.
He also told me that on Saturday there was a special celebration at one of the churches (not the Tekla church, a bigger one on top of a hill) because it is St. George’s day this Saturday. He said to give him a call on Saturday and he would pick me up and take me to the church (I have made friends with the receptionist Tigist and she lets me use the hotel phone whenever I want for free, but she won’t let me dial the buttons myself).
After that, we went to the orphanage where Gebre had one of the orphans escort us on the approx. 20 min. walk through fields full of workers harvesting tef and wheat and flaxseed with small scythe-like instruments, collecting water, and taking care of cattle. Then we arrived at the school. We asked Gebre what the best way we could help would be, and he asked us if we could help teach English for a couple hours a day to the 8th graders, because they have a national exam coming us and they always do poorly because they do not have a good teacher, and without doing well on this particular test, their options for high school are then limited (as I understand the situation). So of course, we said yes.
Gebre also asked me if I would contribute to the website with my pictures, and I said that yes, I would, and I am have also written a profile piece about him that I am going to send to the Daily Toreador and see if they will publish it. If not, I will at least let him use it for his website and also post it on my blog.
He has been so helpful to me, showing me around Mekele, and explaining so much about Ethiopian history and culture, that I am more than ecstatic to help in anyway I can, and still it seems insufficient.
When we walk to the school, young, barefoot children follow us the entire way. Many students use newspapers for their notebook paper, and over 70 children are packed into a single room with one teacher and three to five students sit to a desk. There is not light, the room is dark, and I think it would be very difficult to try and read the chalkboard from the back of the room.
The children were all incredibly (INCREDIBLY) well behaved and respectful, and stood up when we entered the room and all had plastered big smiles on their faces. Many of them are very hungry to learn-in fact the young man who escorted us pulled out his textbook (a small paperback the size of a coloring book) and began pointing to words he did not know and we would try to use charades to explain. He did the same for us with Tigrayan.
When we left small children followed us and happily practiced “Hello, how are you!” “What is your name?!” “How old are you!”
The way back was unescorted and I got a little lost in the open fields in the mild between the orphanage and the school, which includes a couple of small river/creek crossings, and many large bulls. But, I eventually found my way.
Gebre is truly a visionary. After returning to the orphanage Gebre gave us a tour of the orphanage and the many ambitious projects he has planned for the land, then we returned to the hotel.
That afternoon, I went to the Tekla Orthodox Church where people would walk by and kiss the gates and form a cross over their heads. Many people continues walking, and didn’t actually enter the gates, and this made me hesitant to do so, unsure if perhaps one was supposed to enter the church only at certain times.
There were actually two churches, a newer one, and then directly behind that one an older church. I was hesitant to go inside the gated compound of the church, because of the people walking by not going in the gates; I didn’t want to offend anyone. People stare at me quite a lot, which is understandable since I stick out like a sore thumb.
The Deacon, Timrat, saw me looking hesitantly at the church and came out to tell me he was the deacon and if I’d like to see the church, he’d show it to me. He speaks English fairly well, but has a little trouble understanding my accent.
He took me in the outside area and introduced us to the Father, the priest, who was tall and wrapped in white. He held a gold ornamental cross and another white wrapping around his head, similar to a turban but not as large and more compact. He nodded to us while Timrat, who speaks more English, told me a little about the history. He told me the church was not ready to enter at that moment, but that when it had been prepared, it would be a better time to enter.
The church was closed at that time so he told me that, at this point, I could either give the priests a piece of advice or some birr, and I gave him some birr. Timrat wants me to return to the church on Sunday at 7 AM (one o’clock on the Ethiopian clock), where we will listen to the service . Afterwards, Timrat promised to explain more about the church, and he invited us to a coffee ceremony, which is a sign of respect and friendship, and a great honor to be invited to.
I ran into Timrat later that same day walking to my hotel after a quick trip to the internet café. He had a copy of Aristotle’s St. Achnid of __? In his hand in Amharic (he also speaks Tigrayan). He spoke to me about the many greek philosophers and their ideas about God, and reminded me again to come by the Church on Sunday to hear more about the philosophers and about God. He told me that he was trying hard to find a bible in English so he could translate it into Tigrayan, the local language. Our group happened to have an extra bible (pocket sized) between us, and he is coming by our hotel at 5 o’clock today and we are going to give him an English bible.
I tried to explain to Timrat what exactly my project is, but he did not seem to quite understand, but kept saying that of course I was welcome anytime at the church, just to make sure I got a head covering from a ‘spiritual shop’ before I came. Today when I see him I am going to show him a drawing of musical instruments and a big eye looking at them and I hope that will help him understand more what I am interested in.
Timrat has been to university, and so I think he will understand if I try to explain that I am working on research and learning more about his church and culture partly for my university education.
He is very open, though, and I am very excited about going to a coffee ceremony with him.
Later yesterday I ran into Kibron in the afternoon, who apparently hangs out close to our hotel (this makes sense since our hotel overlooks a small park, Lucy Park, which is a major congregation area for people to some and sit and socialize. There are also several buildings in Lucy Park that play recorded music all day long, until well after 9 PM, in fact.
He took me to a store to buy a head covering. When we got to the area with many shops, he took me in and bargained for me (foreigners are charged a little more, apparently). I said thank you and asked him if sometime he would sit down and talk to me a little more about the church. He said anytime, and then told me again that he would take me to the church celebration this Saturday. I’ll give him a call this afternoon and set up a time for him to pick me up.
Other thoughts:
In general, things here are well. There is one person in the group having a very difficult time adjusting, especially with the diseases seen in the hospital, and maybe one or two others just feeling overwhelmed. It is a big difference and I feel I am constantly making accidental mistakes.
For example, while drinking tea yesterday, our group was sitting in the corner, when the manager came by and asked us if we would like to move to a better table, and we said, oh no, that’s alright. Then we realized that he had pushed tables together and put a special table cloth on the table just for us (we saw him take the table cloth off and push away the tables).
At the bank there was an incredibly long line and a worker came and took me to the back (thus skipping the line) and sat me down and took care of me, and asked me if I would please sit and have some coffee. They were very excited about my name, which is apparently a popular Ethiopian name. I just felt bad about getting special treatment , but especially after the earlier incident, I didn’t want to refuse and end up being even more rude.
I am just overwhelmed with how nice everyone has been to me and the rest of our group. The Kibron asked me yesterday if I would come back, and I have only been here two days, but I am already informing an emphatic ‘YES’ in my mind. I feel that to really do a thorough project, I need to be here for something more like 6 months to a year. It just takes time to meet people, develop relationships, and get over the language issues and earn enough trust to be able to have candid conversations with priests and so on. But of couse, I am just going to do as much as I can in the time that I’m here (which seems woefully too short at the moment).
I am SO excited about the coffee ceremony, and about the celebration at the church on Saturday.
Weather in Mekele is quite nice, with lows in the high forties or low fifties, and warming to mid seventies during the day.
Eating has been an adventure, to say the very least. I do have a phrasebook of Tigrayan and Amharic and am learning the various words and so I can generally avoid very spicy foods, but I am not a huge fan of Injera bread, the sour spongy utensil-bread.
Communication is difficult but not impossible. I have learned the very basics (hello, good morning, thank you (I pronounced this incorrectly numerous times and it always gets me laughed at; I’m wondering if I’m saying a word that means something more like grapefruit than thank you).
In Mekele, the sun rises at 0 in the morning, which is 6AM on our clocks, to what sounds like calls to prayer. There is a mosque here, but is fairly far away and I don’t believe in the same direction, and so I am wondering if it is actually the Orthodox Church prayer chanting. Out of the balcony I have observed numerous white robed people walking directly to the Tekla orthodox church near our hotel, and this makes me think it might be the prayer chanting.
I really want to go to the church tomorrow morning and find out. Today is the third day in Mekele- the first morning I was incredibly fatigued with jet lag, and the second morning I was unsure of what type of dress or manners I should bring with me to the church (especially since the women’s heads were covered, and so I didn’t think it would be wise to just roll in dressed with my American clothing among the worshippers without first having spoken with more people about what exactly was expected of me.
Gebre, the orphanage director, put me in contact with a Taxi driver yesterday named Kibron, who speaks very excellent English. On the way to the orphanage this morning Kibron answered many questions I had about the Orthodox Church. He told me that I could definitely visit the churches, and told me a little bit about the protocol, which includes taking your shoes off, and told me that I needed to get a scarf for my head before I went.
He told me that he would go with me, but that he had done some ‘not so good things’ lately and needed to confess before he went back to church. He went on to say you should not go to a club one night and the church the next morning. But, he said the next time he saw me he would take me somewhere to buy the appropriate scarf.
He also told me that on Saturday there was a special celebration at one of the churches (not the Tekla church, a bigger one on top of a hill) because it is St. George’s day this Saturday. He said to give him a call on Saturday and he would pick me up and take me to the church (I have made friends with the receptionist Tigist and she lets me use the hotel phone whenever I want for free, but she won’t let me dial the buttons myself).
After that, we went to the orphanage where Gebre had one of the orphans escort us on the approx. 20 min. walk through fields full of workers harvesting tef and wheat and flaxseed with small scythe-like instruments, collecting water, and taking care of cattle. Then we arrived at the school. We asked Gebre what the best way we could help would be, and he asked us if we could help teach English for a couple hours a day to the 8th graders, because they have a national exam coming us and they always do poorly because they do not have a good teacher, and without doing well on this particular test, their options for high school are then limited (as I understand the situation). So of course, we said yes.
Gebre also asked me if I would contribute to the website with my pictures, and I said that yes, I would, and I am have also written a profile piece about him that I am going to send to the Daily Toreador and see if they will publish it. If not, I will at least let him use it for his website and also post it on my blog.
He has been so helpful to me, showing me around Mekele, and explaining so much about Ethiopian history and culture, that I am more than ecstatic to help in anyway I can, and still it seems insufficient.
When we walk to the school, young, barefoot children follow us the entire way. Many students use newspapers for their notebook paper, and over 70 children are packed into a single room with one teacher and three to five students sit to a desk. There is not light, the room is dark, and I think it would be very difficult to try and read the chalkboard from the back of the room.
The children were all incredibly (INCREDIBLY) well behaved and respectful, and stood up when we entered the room and all had plastered big smiles on their faces. Many of them are very hungry to learn-in fact the young man who escorted us pulled out his textbook (a small paperback the size of a coloring book) and began pointing to words he did not know and we would try to use charades to explain. He did the same for us with Tigrayan.
When we left small children followed us and happily practiced “Hello, how are you!” “What is your name?!” “How old are you!”
The way back was unescorted and I got a little lost in the open fields in the mild between the orphanage and the school, which includes a couple of small river/creek crossings, and many large bulls. But, I eventually found my way.
Gebre is truly a visionary. After returning to the orphanage Gebre gave us a tour of the orphanage and the many ambitious projects he has planned for the land, then we returned to the hotel.
That afternoon, I went to the Tekla Orthodox Church where people would walk by and kiss the gates and form a cross over their heads. Many people continues walking, and didn’t actually enter the gates, and this made me hesitant to do so, unsure if perhaps one was supposed to enter the church only at certain times.
There were actually two churches, a newer one, and then directly behind that one an older church. I was hesitant to go inside the gated compound of the church, because of the people walking by not going in the gates; I didn’t want to offend anyone. People stare at me quite a lot, which is understandable since I stick out like a sore thumb.
The Deacon, Timrat, saw me looking hesitantly at the church and came out to tell me he was the deacon and if I’d like to see the church, he’d show it to me. He speaks English fairly well, but has a little trouble understanding my accent.
He took me in the outside area and introduced us to the Father, the priest, who was tall and wrapped in white. He held a gold ornamental cross and another white wrapping around his head, similar to a turban but not as large and more compact. He nodded to us while Timrat, who speaks more English, told me a little about the history. He told me the church was not ready to enter at that moment, but that when it had been prepared, it would be a better time to enter.
The church was closed at that time so he told me that, at this point, I could either give the priests a piece of advice or some birr, and I gave him some birr. Timrat wants me to return to the church on Sunday at 7 AM (one o’clock on the Ethiopian clock), where we will listen to the service . Afterwards, Timrat promised to explain more about the church, and he invited us to a coffee ceremony, which is a sign of respect and friendship, and a great honor to be invited to.
I ran into Timrat later that same day walking to my hotel after a quick trip to the internet café. He had a copy of Aristotle’s St. Achnid of __? In his hand in Amharic (he also speaks Tigrayan). He spoke to me about the many greek philosophers and their ideas about God, and reminded me again to come by the Church on Sunday to hear more about the philosophers and about God. He told me that he was trying hard to find a bible in English so he could translate it into Tigrayan, the local language. Our group happened to have an extra bible (pocket sized) between us, and he is coming by our hotel at 5 o’clock today and we are going to give him an English bible.
I tried to explain to Timrat what exactly my project is, but he did not seem to quite understand, but kept saying that of course I was welcome anytime at the church, just to make sure I got a head covering from a ‘spiritual shop’ before I came. Today when I see him I am going to show him a drawing of musical instruments and a big eye looking at them and I hope that will help him understand more what I am interested in.
Timrat has been to university, and so I think he will understand if I try to explain that I am working on research and learning more about his church and culture partly for my university education.
He is very open, though, and I am very excited about going to a coffee ceremony with him.
Later yesterday I ran into Kibron in the afternoon, who apparently hangs out close to our hotel (this makes sense since our hotel overlooks a small park, Lucy Park, which is a major congregation area for people to some and sit and socialize. There are also several buildings in Lucy Park that play recorded music all day long, until well after 9 PM, in fact.
He took me to a store to buy a head covering. When we got to the area with many shops, he took me in and bargained for me (foreigners are charged a little more, apparently). I said thank you and asked him if sometime he would sit down and talk to me a little more about the church. He said anytime, and then told me again that he would take me to the church celebration this Saturday. I’ll give him a call this afternoon and set up a time for him to pick me up.
Other thoughts:
In general, things here are well. There is one person in the group having a very difficult time adjusting, especially with the diseases seen in the hospital, and maybe one or two others just feeling overwhelmed. It is a big difference and I feel I am constantly making accidental mistakes.
For example, while drinking tea yesterday, our group was sitting in the corner, when the manager came by and asked us if we would like to move to a better table, and we said, oh no, that’s alright. Then we realized that he had pushed tables together and put a special table cloth on the table just for us (we saw him take the table cloth off and push away the tables).
At the bank there was an incredibly long line and a worker came and took me to the back (thus skipping the line) and sat me down and took care of me, and asked me if I would please sit and have some coffee. They were very excited about my name, which is apparently a popular Ethiopian name. I just felt bad about getting special treatment , but especially after the earlier incident, I didn’t want to refuse and end up being even more rude.
I am just overwhelmed with how nice everyone has been to me and the rest of our group. The Kibron asked me yesterday if I would come back, and I have only been here two days, but I am already informing an emphatic ‘YES’ in my mind. I feel that to really do a thorough project, I need to be here for something more like 6 months to a year. It just takes time to meet people, develop relationships, and get over the language issues and earn enough trust to be able to have candid conversations with priests and so on. But of couse, I am just going to do as much as I can in the time that I’m here (which seems woefully too short at the moment).
I am SO excited about the coffee ceremony, and about the celebration at the church on Saturday.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
A professor told me that you shouldn’t do what you do unless you believe it can change the world.
And I do.
Another once told me that so long as you follow your heart, it will lead you to the right place.
So I will.
There is a proverb that says if you jump off of a cliff, a net will appear.
I believe it.
And I do.
Another once told me that so long as you follow your heart, it will lead you to the right place.
So I will.
There is a proverb that says if you jump off of a cliff, a net will appear.
I believe it.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Why we do what we do/ taking advantage of guaranteed high speed internet
I often have people ask me what exactly I’m doing in Ethiopia. The simple answer is I’m doing fieldwork for my master’s thesis, which is basically that music plays an important role in the act of pilgrimage.
Then people ask, “Well what’s your Master’s degree in?”
To which I respond, “Musicology, but with an emphasis on ethnomusicology.”
I get mixed reactions, ranging from interest or genuine curiosity to curt and/or slightly confused “hmphs.”
To some extent, it’s understandable. It’s not something like, say mathematics or biology, long established and, at least in our culture, firmly viewed as a respectable and worthwhile field of study. In fact, the sciences in general in the West are regarded with a reverence so high that many equate science with knowledge.
But science is not knowledge, it is a method, and while unquestionably useful, worthwhile, and valuable as an epistemological approach, it is not infallible. It is full of theories, and through the centuries we can see how what was cutting edge scientifically in the 19th century (such as for example, how we conceive an atom) has now been refined, and we can expect that what we take for fact today might be viewed as archaic a century from now.
This is the whole point of science- to test and refine ideas to bring us closer to the truth. But we should’t confuse current scientific thinking with absolute truth.
In fact, some scientists, like Popper and Feynman, stressed the importance of trying to disprove ideas, rather than to “prove” something. Unfortunately, research funding being as it is, there is often and agenda associated with experimentation that favors “proving” an idea rather than attempting to disprove.
In any case, science is an awesome tool for understanding the world around us. One of many.
Another equally important tool is testimony. Think about it- almost everything we know, we know because someone told us- whether we read it in a book, heard it on the news, or learned a lesson from our parents’ words, the bulk of our knowledge rests on communicative messages of those around us.
The goals of scientists and ethnographers are very similar (to understand, to gain knowledge), and differ primarily in method. Ethnography heavily utilizes testimony to learn more about the world around us- to bring us closer to the truth, to gain knowledge, to understand. Music is one way of communicating things, listening a method of discovery.
Actually, the entire constructed world is sending us messages. Take food for example- What does a box of chicken nuggets that come in a container specially designed and mass produced to hold the dipping sauce (to allow for dipping ease for an individual while driving) tell us about culture as opposed to an Ethiopian restaurant, in which separating orders might cause confusion for the wait staff (eating is a community activity), and food is served what we call family style, with everyone using their injera to scoop up a little bit of the communal food?
If we can learn something about culture by the way the way we box our chicken nuggets, how much can we learn by exploring music and the way it functions in society?
So what am I doing? I am traveling to another country, one I have studied and read books about, but still have a lot to learn about. I am going to be meeting with priests, musicians, and others involved with the Ethiopian Church. I am going to listen, record conversations, and their music, which together are forms of testimony, in order to seek truth and greater understanding.
Then people ask, “Well what’s your Master’s degree in?”
To which I respond, “Musicology, but with an emphasis on ethnomusicology.”
I get mixed reactions, ranging from interest or genuine curiosity to curt and/or slightly confused “hmphs.”
To some extent, it’s understandable. It’s not something like, say mathematics or biology, long established and, at least in our culture, firmly viewed as a respectable and worthwhile field of study. In fact, the sciences in general in the West are regarded with a reverence so high that many equate science with knowledge.
But science is not knowledge, it is a method, and while unquestionably useful, worthwhile, and valuable as an epistemological approach, it is not infallible. It is full of theories, and through the centuries we can see how what was cutting edge scientifically in the 19th century (such as for example, how we conceive an atom) has now been refined, and we can expect that what we take for fact today might be viewed as archaic a century from now.
This is the whole point of science- to test and refine ideas to bring us closer to the truth. But we should’t confuse current scientific thinking with absolute truth.
In fact, some scientists, like Popper and Feynman, stressed the importance of trying to disprove ideas, rather than to “prove” something. Unfortunately, research funding being as it is, there is often and agenda associated with experimentation that favors “proving” an idea rather than attempting to disprove.
In any case, science is an awesome tool for understanding the world around us. One of many.
Another equally important tool is testimony. Think about it- almost everything we know, we know because someone told us- whether we read it in a book, heard it on the news, or learned a lesson from our parents’ words, the bulk of our knowledge rests on communicative messages of those around us.
The goals of scientists and ethnographers are very similar (to understand, to gain knowledge), and differ primarily in method. Ethnography heavily utilizes testimony to learn more about the world around us- to bring us closer to the truth, to gain knowledge, to understand. Music is one way of communicating things, listening a method of discovery.
Actually, the entire constructed world is sending us messages. Take food for example- What does a box of chicken nuggets that come in a container specially designed and mass produced to hold the dipping sauce (to allow for dipping ease for an individual while driving) tell us about culture as opposed to an Ethiopian restaurant, in which separating orders might cause confusion for the wait staff (eating is a community activity), and food is served what we call family style, with everyone using their injera to scoop up a little bit of the communal food?
If we can learn something about culture by the way the way we box our chicken nuggets, how much can we learn by exploring music and the way it functions in society?
So what am I doing? I am traveling to another country, one I have studied and read books about, but still have a lot to learn about. I am going to be meeting with priests, musicians, and others involved with the Ethiopian Church. I am going to listen, record conversations, and their music, which together are forms of testimony, in order to seek truth and greater understanding.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)