Lalibela and Home

St. Giorghys Church 

I am writing this post after more than 30 hours of airport bondage/air travel so please excuse me if it is all a bit disjointed.

Exterior of St. Giorghys. The church is a representation of Noah's Ark (explanation over coffee!)

The ancient rock-hewn churches of Lalibela were a wonder, and I am so glad I used my two extra days to visit. Until very recently, and except from chilling news coverage of repeated famines in the Horn of Africa, Ethiopia has been an isolated culture. There are advantages to this which have to do with the lack of European colonization, but—in the case of Lalibela—it is a shame. Or, perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps it is a blessing.

Lalibela Cross, 7 kg solid gold stolen by the Belgians but finally given back in 1999.

If the rock-hewn churches of Lalibela were anywhere else on the globe except hidden in the difficult-to-access chaotic fold, heave and weave of the northeastern Ethiopian highlands, these treasures would be on the list of the Seven Wonders of the World. As it is, they remain unknown (unless you happen to be an Israeli tourist on the hunt for the Ark of the Covenant.) These churches were chiseled from solid rock during the 11^th century, the sculpting of which, as the Ethiopians tell it, was aided by angels. If there is anything I have ever seen that might prompt me to suspend my scientific reason in favor of supernatural intervention, the churches of Lalibela would be it.

Biet Medhane Alem, the biggest of the rock-hewn churches

Chiseled from solid rock, all the churches of Lalibela lie below ground level—completely invisible to anyone walking over the hills (until UNESCO deemed it a World Heritage Site and erected giant awnings to protect the churches from the elements. This is a good thing, but it does alter the 1,000 year-old invisibility.) Some of these churches are monolithic, meaning they have been separated completely by excavation from the mother rock; some are semi-monolithic, meaning they are still attached on one or more surfaces to the mother rock. Either way, the intricacy of the interiors and the precision and symmetry with which they have been carved (hello! Did you get that I said THE 11^th CENTURY?) is absolutely astounding.

House of the Cross. The ten arches represent the Ten Commandments

And, perhaps the most amazing feature is that these are not relics that have been relegated to the history books. On Tuesday morning, when I left Lalibela headed to the airport, the rock slabs outside each and every one of these churches was covered with white-robed worshippers. These 1,000 year-old subterranean churches are not tourist attractions, but living, breathing sites of worship. My guide Tesfa carefully explained (at each church visited) that sound and vibration pollution is a real threat to these ancient rock-hewn structures. At most sites, the priests now chant and sing and drum in adjacent chambers—also carved out or rock and in most cases had been the caves of ancient hermits—so the interior of the churches don’t crack and disintegrate. The whole indigenous worship/preservation of these treasures is a true world community effort.

Interior of St. Mary's Church. Only Lalibela church with basilica paintings. Circa 1100.

Unfortunately, all my camera batteries went dead in Lalibela and so I did not capture the epic mule excursion to the mountain top monastery of Asheton Maryam. Nancy’s cell phone functioned as my camera and as soon as I figure out how to download the photos off the phone, I’ll post a few more. In the meantime, my last remaining battery power reveals what you are seeing here.

Me and Mola ("Fool") the mule, plus my ever-attentive mule boy

I left Lalibela on Tuesday a.m. (translating to Seattle time, that would have been 6:30 p.m. on Monday.) I had a brutal 12 hour wait in the Addis Ababa airport for my midnight flight to Khartoum then on to Amsterdam. I arrived in Seattle at 12:00 p.m. on Wednesday (count them: 36 hours of travel) and I hereby declare myself a zombie.

Entrance to House of Virgins

Original subterranean main entrance to the network of passageways that connect the churches

But not before I leave you with the quote with which I began this blog (plus one more line):

Katya said, “Being here is like being in Biblical times and modern times at the same time. Like all times are happening at once, and people are just walking back and forth between them.”

Not walking, I thought. Falling.

                                    ~Don’t Cry, Mary Gaitskill