Saturday, January 17, 2015

A Memory: Our Trip to Africa


Part I.  The Land of Sheba


It was a moment of excitement, inward joy, and expectation to land on African soil in Asmara, Ethiopia on the morning of January 2, 1974. As Fred and I deplaned at 5:00 a. m., I felt the chill of the morning air. The sky was blue. I turned to him and said "Thank you for bringing me." His response was "Thank you for coming." It had been a long journey of 6,697 miles which began in Dayton, Ohio on December 31, 1973 with a day stop-over in Rome. Once on the ground, I knelt down and beheld Mother Africa in my hands.

    We were married in the summer of 1972. When Fred's friend, Yemane Tekeste,  invited him to travel home, with him  to Ethiopia, I thought of it as a opportunity for a honeymoon trip since we had not one. The trip would be four weeks with scheduled visits to Asmara, Ethiopia, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Nairobi, Kenya, Lagos, Nigeria, Accra, Ghana, and Monrovia, Liberia. A trip from East Africa to West Africa across the African Continent, approximately 10,000 miles. Fred and Yemane would use the time as a study tour.  Both were working on  a Master's degrees in Economics.

     We eagerly looked forward to our first ride on a 747 Jumbo Jet but this anticipation turned into disappointment at J. F. Kennedy Airport in New York when we learned that a Boeing 707 had been substituted because of the energy crisis. It was my first helicopter ride from Laguardia Airport to JFK.  Through- out the overnight flight from New York to Rome, I sat sandwiched, miserably overheated, between Fred and another passenger. It occurred to me the airplane designer-engineer should receive  the "Pack Em in Award." Observing my fellow flying companions, listening to their different languages, there were some similarities about people that were naturally understandable. Musingly, I thought how wonderful and beautifully diversified the human family.

As the sun was rising over Geneva, Switzerland, I was awakened by a stewardess at 8:20 a.m.
(2:20 a.m. Dayton time) for a continental breakfast. At 9:20 a. m. our plane landed at Rome's Fiumicino Airport after 7 hours and 40 minutes airborne. The temperature in Rome was 8 degrees centigrade and the weather was rainy and cold. The airport was heavily guarded with armed security guards and Military. A Palestinian terrorist attack, December 17th, two weeks earlier, at the airport on the same numbered Pan-AM  flight  as ours, killed two in the Terminal and 30 of the 177 aboard.
The Pan AM jet was taxing for departure. This made me realize  the war between  Israel and Palestinians was real, and  less distant than projected over the television screen.

There was very little passenger activity and no heat at Fiumicino Airport on New Year's Day. Yemane, Pixie, and Zeghai, our Ethiopian friend, his American wife, and seventeen month old son, boarded a bus into the city, passing one of the familiar historical sights, the Coliseum where Christians were once fed to the lions.

We checked into Hotel Bianca. I was apprehensive about the Desk asking to hold our passport.
After several hours of chilly to moderately warm sleep under the bed covers, and relaxation at Hotel Bianca, we embarked onto the dimly lit crowded streets in search of food. Yemane was frequently
stopped and greeted by Ethiopian nationals living and working in Rome. Two such men graciously escorted us to a Delicatessen.

Rome is a a city rich in history. I regretted somewhat our plans necessitated only a stop over.
Regrets were easily assuaged by pleasant memories of my 1967 visit. Plans to spend several days in the city were cancelled earlier due to  delayed receipt of Liberian and Nigerian visas, by two weeks.

 Yemane's bilingualism, the ease in which he communicated in Italian and attended to business transactions, was a source of great comfort, inspiration, and at times amusement, and caused me to reflect distressingly on the inadequacies of my linguistic education. When Yemane was bargaining to convert US currency to Italian lire, his persuasive temperament was part of the ritual. Since the rate of conversion was fluctuating between 400 to 600 lire per US dollar, obviously, the shrewd banker was intent on being victorious. The stalemate was resolved when another banker entered the bidding and an amicable price reached.

Shortly after 10:00 p.m,  Ethiopian Airlines, Boeing 720, Flight # 723 soared into the foggy night. We had been searched thoroughly in the airport before takeoff. Our hand luggage was retained until boarding. Little Zeghai's toy doll radio was closely scrutinized. What a thrill to see competent men of color as pilots. Never flown with a black pilot in the United States

12:40 a.m.  Intermediary stop in Athens, Greece. My intentions to set foot on Greek soil was thwarted. Continuing passengers advised not to deplane because of security. Restlessness and fatigue descended over my entire body. I frequently looked out into the night wondering how much longer. Due to the hazard of flying over Israeli or Palestinian Territory, the pilot takes the desert route to Asmara, extending the flight time. I remember I cancelled my 1967 tour to the  Holy Land because of the Arab-Israeli War.

January 2, 1974. Asmara's temperature was in the 40's when we landed in the early morning hours. Asmara is the capitol Eritrea Province. Processing through Customs was brief and superficial for Fred and I, but much more thorough for Yemane. Painstakingly the Customs officials inspected the contents of each piece of Yemane's luggage. Fred had heard the people loved American t-shirts and we packed as many as we could for gifts.

Along the palm-lined street from the airport, men rode  bicycles,  and women in the distance could be seen brewing the morning kaffa. Two occupants smiling and waving in an approaching English Ford stopped suddenly, turned around and beckoned us to follow. To our surprise it was Mr. Teskeste and twelve year old son, David. Following the happy family reunion of kisses and gift presentations, a breakfast of steak, eggs and zegeni (the National dish) was served. Zegni is a curried stew made of beef, mutton or chicken, served over injera (a special bread made from millet, eaten by hand. Injera reminds me of unleavened American pancakes. Because of the abundant use of berbere (red pepper) I carefully avoided zegeni, served at every meal, because it activated gastric acidity.

Our host is bilingual. He speaks Amharic, other Ethiopian dialects, Italian, and English. The Tekeste
Villa is a six bedroom, two story, Mediterranean design, beige concrete and marble, atop a hill, surrounded by various tropical flora. The mural on the northeast wall depicts historic Ethiopian shrines. The interior marble floors are dazzling. The guard at the Villa gate, any hour day or night, became an accustomed sight. During the day the compound was filled with chatter as construction workers were completing the Servants Quarters and patio.The two house servants did not speak English. They kept busy with their tasks of cooking, cleaning, washing, and ironing. Each day at 2:00 p.m., they brought tea to our room, and shined our shoes overnight.

By noon on January 2nd, the temperature had reached 90 degrees. Ethiopia has high elevation and is close to the equator. Time for a several course leisure lunch of zegeni, meat, vegetables, and wine. I am accustomed to little or no breakfast, a thirty minute lunch consisting of a salad. I usually leave the table overstuffed.  There is a siesta after lunch. The school children come home for lunch and return to classes around 2:00 p.m., the shops and merchants close.

Tour of an Impoverished Community: This must be absolute poverty. I am blinded by tears." Why are you crying?" Fred asks. I am too emotional to answer. "Why aren't you mad at the colonialists?" I remain silent.

Shopping:
Asmara is a shopper's paradise, art, wood carvings, 18 karat gold, silver. Gold purchases are weighed (international gold standard.)

It's chilly in the morning I need a sweater. I am taken shopping. Why are there no prices on these sweaters? I have to bargain. I don't know how to bargain. Furthermore, I didn't know there is a local price, European price, an American price. Americans are seen as rich. Shopping at Gold Market: Outside, I am surrounded by beggars. How can I go in here to shop when there is so much need? " I say to Fred, "give that mother and baby some money." "She didn't ask for anything,"he replies. "Give her some money anyway."

Asmara is a police state. The army is everywhere on the streets. I almost get my camera confiscated, unknowingly taking pictures of the Summer Castle of the Imperial Emperor Haile Selassie. There is tension in the air. No one speaks aloud.

Medical Care: I develop a painful ear ache. I had tubes inserted prior to trip due to fluid imbalances while flying. I am taken to the U.S. Naval Center and treated by a Navy ear doctor.
How nice to be an American! We received recommended immunizations at our local Health Department in Dayton. Re: Malaria  Reality or Western Propaganda? I received my prescription and malaria pills in Dayton. Fred had to be convinced, and so he was by our host.

Status of Women: I get the opportunity to discuss  status of women in our society. Our host values education for his sons, and they are being educated in U,S. and Italy. He values traditional marriage arrangements. Women in the Villa do not go out unattended. Why does this mean me? We are invited to a traditional wedding. The groom seems much older than the bride. They were betrothed  by their parents. She is expected to be a virgin. They meet, the first, time the day before the wedding. It's a very lovely wedding. The priests with ram horns precede the processional. The reception is at a hotel.
I spend a lot of time drinking tea with the women, getting my hair corn rowed, watching US TV reruns. The guys are out studying. I had hoped to visit some  U.S. church missions. Mr. F. gets  lots of sympathy because of you know who. The culture shock is real.

Most people in the world eat goat meat except in the U.S. I see a goat being slaughtered for my dinner. The Italian influence in Ethiopia can be seen in the  architecture, cuisine and language. Many of the dishes served are Italian. Ethiopia was once occupied by Italy's Mussolini.

Going on Holiday: Port City on Red Sea, Massawa. (on coast of Eritrea)
The necessary documents are secured to travel. When our entourage arrived at the airport, on the day of departure, our plane has left. A decision is made to drive. Entering my seat in the back, someone says  "Mrs. F. hide your money, we may run into bandits." I see a lot of crosses on the side of  the highway. I see people on camels. I see women carrying firewood on their backs. I vow to fly back. " I am not riding back in this car!" Woes for Mr. F. and more sympathy. "You are causing an uproar."

 I see the distribution  difficulty to get Foreign Aid to the Provinces when there is a drought or famine. There is no network of highways like U.S. It seems I am in another century. Biblical times. Ethiopia dates back to biblical times. The Coptic Christian Orthodox Church is here. The Falasha Black Jews are here and not recognized by mainline Judaism. The Emperor's symbol is the Lion of Judah. He traces his lineage to King David and Queen Sheba.

Surprise! Our accommodations are at the  U.S. Naval Rest Center on the Red Sea. We have a great time. The weather is beautiful. The Red Sea is strikingly blue. I'm in awe. This is the Red Sea of the Bible. Who would have ever thought I'd see it?  Not even me.


 Time to return to Asmara: Airline travel is arranged for Mr. & Mrs. F. However, when I see the plane landing on a dusty field, looking like a crop duster, I'm sure I have made a mistake.  We arrived safely back in Asmara. Someone says just in time "before the gates to the City are closed."

We are offered the invitation to stay our remaining time in Asmara with our host. I want to continue our trip as planned. I may never get the opportunity to see this part of the world again. The guys agree to meet in Lagos.

Day of  Departure: We thank our host, say goodbye.

At the Airport:
The Mayor of Asmara meets us at the airport. He gives us a parting gift, two lovely Ethiopian carvings. Why is my plane to Addis Ababa not here?  When will my plane come? The answer:
"If it does not come today, it will come tomorrow. If it does not come tomorrow, it will come the following day." Since plane is delayed why not go to eat? Good idea. On return: "Why are our suitcases sitting here on the ground unattended?  Reply: "The plane has come and gone. You were not here. You may be terrorists." Time and timeliness are my cultural bias. I am discovering others, I am also discovering some of Mr. F's cultural biases about about siesta, eating raw meat. Are we the Ugly Americans who expect things to be like they are at home?

Addis Ababa:
We checked in to the Addis  Ababa Hilton.  Fred arranges for a Tour Guide. We spend our time touring, eating, and sleeping. I go shopping.

To be continued.

Post Script:
His Imperial Majesty Emperor Haile Selassie was deposed in a cou d'etat by the military in September 1974 and died in 1975. A Civil War between Eritreia and Ethiopia took place in the 1990s and Mr. F said many of the people we met died in the War including the Artists. Eritrea seceded from Ethiopia and became an independent country. Some of the Falasha Jews have been resettled in Israel.
Mr. Finney later publishes an article, History of Ethiopian Coins and Currency."

(c) copyright 2015