Preparing to travel farther north from Barhar Dar the next morning I was lucky to be able to locate a truck heading to Gondar. The Shifta had captured a petrol tanker the week before, and were said to have mined a bridge. These facts made petrol rather scarce in the mountains of Ethiopia, and had radically decreased available motor transport. The six hour trip was uneventful, but cold. I sat in the luggage box up on top of the cab, as usual, but at the early morning hour the air was extremely frigid. I had put on every stitch of clothing that I owned, and was still freezing. Have never been so cold before or since. And just to be sure that I couldn't even feel sorry for myself, the two Ethiopian passengers up there with me had their bare legs sticking out the bottom of their short shifts, and didn't seem to be bothered at all by the temperature.
Gondar was another dirty, flyblown town deep in the central mountains of Ethiopia, but a more interesting one. Within the town limits were three small European-medieval-style stone-and-mortar castles! Strange to see them in that part of the world. I learned that they were designed for an Ethiopian king by a Portugese architect in the 1500s. They seemed rather forlorn and threadbare, each three stories tall, poorly sighted on slopes of rolling hills, within view of one another, and without any curtain walls or ditches. I toured two of them, and viewed the smallest from the outside.
Several of the old 16th century Coptic churches on the outskirts of Gondar were visited by me the following morning. The ancient religious murals were really fascinating. The medieval copts developed an artistic style uniquely their own, simple and somewhat crude, but strangely spiritual and disconnected from earthly reality. At Debre Berhan Selassie monastery, the oldest in the area, the monk/priests were pleased to see me, and showed me some amazingly beautiful illuminated parchment manuscripts written in the nearly dead ancient language of Ge'ez. Realizing that I was very interested in Ge'ez, the monks happily spoke it for me, reading responsively for several minutes. It was fascinating to actually hear the ancient tongue, kept alive by the Coptic clergy.
The government bureau in Addis had informed me about the "black Jews" which were said to live in several villages not too far from Gondar. I thought it was probably just hype to encourage tourists, but decided to see what there was to be seen. My second morning in Gondar I walked several miles out of town on a dirt side road, and located Falastia, a small village not far from the track. Falastia was a farming community, being made up of about 20 round huts built of sticks and dung wattle, each about 25 feet in diameter. Most had conical thatch roofs, but a few kept out the rain with corrugated galvanized steel sheets. There were no adults to be seen at first, everyone probably being out in the surrounding fields, but the jet black kids greeted me. I did notice that each hut had a little mezuzah metal cylinder beside the door, just like every Jewish home in the US.
A moment later, as I wandered around, an elderly man appeared, very black and looking like all the other Ethiopians. He displayed a ring of keys, and earnestly told me lots of things I couldn’t understand. He led me to one of the huts with a sheet-metal roof, and showed me that the door was fastened by a chain and a padlock to which he had the key. Obviously I was supposed to tip him to unlock it. I made a small contribution and we went inside. It was dark there, but in the light from the doorway I could see the altar with the star of David and the covered Torah! Kept in a wooden cupboard were some books in Hebrew. It was unmistakably a synagogue ! There actually were black Jews living way back in those mountains in Ethiopia. Quite amazing. (Flash forward: Years later, in the 1980s, the Israelis paid a large fee to the Ethiopian government to be allowed to relocate those dark-skinned, isolated Jews to Israel where they still reside.)
After three nights in Gondar, I hunted around the central square seeking a truck headed north to Axum, but failed to find one. So I gritted my teeth and bargained for a bus ride north. The loud horrible music on that bus was fully up to expectations, and as a result, I didn't enjoy the ride very much. Scenery was nothing short of spectacular, though. We traveled along the main highway north, built by the Italians when they were colonial overlords, and decently maintained by the Ethiopians. All day we traveled through steep, picturesque mountains, with the road perched in a notch out of the slopes. We had mountain wall on the right side, and lots of air on the left.
As I looked around this particular bus, I could see that we were getting into wilder areas. Five gentlemen passengers on the bus were carrying rifles, and two of those had bandoliers of ammunition. A funny, toothless old gent sharing a seat with me allowed me to examine his 1939 Italian-made bolt action rifle, almost certainly acquired from the Fascisti during W.W.II. He also proudly showed me his seven spare rounds of ammo, five of which actually fit his rifle.
I spent most of the ride viewing the spectacular steep scenery and wishing the deafening music would stop. In the middle of the afternoon there came a sudden commotion from the front of the bus, with lots of people shouting all at once, and folks standing up, etc.. I moved to look, and saw that a big tree-trunk, maybe 18" in diameter, had been perfectly placed across the road, blocking it. We had driven into a Shifta ambush! The driver had obviously been in this situation before, and knew exactly what to do. He never stopped, downshifted vigorously, and accelerated RIGHT ACROSS the log, one wheel at a time! The suspension screamed, and everyone was wildly tossed about inside by the four huge bumps, but we didn’t hit the mountain wall on the right, nor go down the open slope on the left. Meanwhile, those with weapons had jumped to the bus windows and were firing both up and down the slope! The bus filled with the smell of rifle smoke! It was all very exciting.
At the next little village we stopped, and I sifted out the story. No-one had seen any Shifta, the bus gunmen admitted that they had just been shooting to try to keep anybody’s head down. Someone had been shooting back, but apparently only desultorily. There were two new bullet holes low in the body of the bus. Everyone agreed that the ambush had been set to catch a truck, and the Shifta just let the bus go on. A truck would have lots more valuable stuff, and fewer defenders, and would be much, much heavier so it would be unlikely to be able to drive over the roadblock without becoming disabled.
I thanked my overworked vagabond’s luck that I had NOT been able to find a truck ride that particular day. If I had, I would have found myself sitting exposed up on top of the truck cab when the Shifta started shooting, and as a result, might very well not be here today to tell the tale.
After a horrible night in a stinking storeroom in Enda Selassie village, with rats running over me, screeching, and thousands of bedbugs driving me outside onto the roof in the rain, I again failed completely to find a truck ride north.
So again I punished my ears by riding an owner-operated bus. The trip was less exciting this time, flatter countryside, and with no shooting. A young man sitting behind me engaged me in English conversation. "Teeling" proved to be an amateur guide to the sights of Axum, and we soon made a deal. He would show me around his hometown, Axum, ancient capital of the legendary Queens of Sheba, and I would provide meals for both of us for the duration. Worked out to be a good bilateral arrangement.
As I descended from the bus in Axum, my white face immediately attracted a dozen desperate-looking men, all competing for my attention. They were tourist guides, and very disappointed to find that I had already been claimed. Teeling explained to me that I was "THE tourist" in Axum for the three days I spent there. That was sobering, because Axum was Ethiopia's #1 tourist attraction. Nobody was visiting due to the many dangers, and as a result, the tourist industry there was withering. It might have also had something to do with it being the height of Ethiopia's rainy season. On my third morning in Axum I realized that I had not seen another white face for the past nine days, since I had departed Addis. That is a record for all of my vagabonding travels. There just weren’t any other foreigners snooping around in the mountains of Ethiopia.
Teeling and I had dinner at a little hole-in-the-wall cafe in town, and talked late into the night. Next morning he reappeared, and I cooked up breakfast for us on my tiny pump-gas stove, on the floor of my cheap whorehouse room. He had never before had oatmeal! Teeling especially liked the part where we sprinkled sugar on top. We walked around together almost all day, seeing all the sights.
Axum itself was quite interesting. The archaeological remains weren’t much to see, and most of them were still in process of stalled excavation. It was thrilling to view the exquisite old standing stone steles scattered about. They were thin and elegant, the largest about 60 feet high, and each had one surface elaborately carved. Most were thought to have been built in about 600 AD.
Axum was an artifact collectors paradise! The wonderful old things which were plowed up regularly by the farmers supplied half a dozen little antiquities shops in town, and those shopkeepers were really hungry for a sale. Since I was the ONLY tourist, it was a real buyers market! The coins of the Axumite civilization were very beautiful. The ancient artisans somehow figured out adding gold inlay to individual bronze and silver coins! I bought two, a thin bronze coin the size of a penny which had a small gold dot attached to the center of the Christian cross on the obverse side, and a really lovely tiny silver coin, in perfect condition, with the crown and necklace of the Axumite ruler inlaid with pure gold! What a wonderful piece! I paid $14 US for the pair of them.
Axum also had a selection of medieval Coptic churches, including the central basilica of the entire Coptic faith. In that church was reported to reside the fabled Arc of the Covenant, the actual stone tablets carved by God and given to Moses. Yep, the same Arc which Indiana Jones raided in popular Hollywood culture. According to standard history, the Arc disappeared at the time of the Babylonian sack of Jerusalem. But the Coptic church tells a different story.
In biblical times, the Queen of Sheba decided to pay a visit to the wisest and most famous ruler in the world, King Solomon in Israel. She loaded up her retainers, left Axum, and sailed up the red sea, arriving in Jerusalem for a state visit. When she was presented to King Solomon, he was struck by her unusual beauty, and offered a wing of his palace to the Queen and her retinue.
The Queen, wise to the ways of men, agreed conditionally upon a promise that Solomon would not try to take her into his bed. Solomon agreed to make this commitment, but only if the Queen would promise not to take anything from his palace without permission. She had no trouble agreeing to that, so the Queen and her people moved into the palace.
King Solomon, however, was clever, and not to be put off easily. After the visitors had settled in, he arranged for an unusually spicy dinner to be served to the Axumites. Then, in the hall just outside the Queen's room, he placed a beaker of fresh, cold water. Late at night the Queen awakened thirsty, and went out into the hall. Finding the water she drank some, whereupon Solomon, who had concealed himself nearby, declared that since she had broken her promise by taking the water without permission, he was no longer bound by his vow. It seems that by then the Queen had developed a fondness for wise King Solomon anyway, and the state visit expanded into a conjugal one.
Months later, when the Axumites were taking their leave, it had become obvious that the Queen of Sheba was expecting. At parting, King Solomon gave her a signet ring, with instructions to give it to their offspring, so that Solomon would recognize his child whenever he or she would come to Jerusalem.
The Queen returned to Axum and gave birth to a boy, whom she named Menelik. When Menelik came of age, his mother informed him of his parentage, and gave him the signet ring. This was quite some news for Menelik, because King Solomon was still the most famous and powerful monarch in the world, and, since the king had not married until after the Queen of Sheba's visit, Menelik realized that he was the firstborn son of wise Solomon. He decided to travel to Jerusalem to claim his birthright.
Arriving in Jerusalem with his own retainers, he presented himself and the ring to Solomon, who received him into the palace with some pomp and a fine show of affection. He made the guest wing of the palace available to Menelik and his people, and fed and clothed them. But, in the intervening years, Solomon had acquired an official wife, and by then had official offspring to whom he intended to leave the kingdom. Solomon was, in truth, not too pleased that this dark-hued bastard son had unexpectedly appeared.
After a month or so, Solomon's indifference had made it obvious to Menelik that his father did not intend to provide him with any birthright. So Menelik decided to take as his due the most sacred and valuable objects on earth, the tablets upon which God had engraved the ten commandments. Menelik had his carpenter build a box of cedar wood which was exactly the same shape and size as the Arc of the Covenant. Then his people became familiar with the guards of the Temple at Jerusalem, dropping by each night to provide stimulating drinks in the darkest hours of the boring watch. One night, after drugging the guards, Menelik stole the true Arc of the Covenant, placed his dummy box under the beautiful embroidered cloth coverings, and immediately decamped for his homeland. The Jewish Rabbis, of course, could not admit that they had lost the tablets of the covenant, and so hushed up the matter, pretending that the false box still contained the holy treasures.
Melelik returned to Axum and soon was crowned Menelik I, emperor of Axum, whereupon he presented the Arc of the Covenant to the local priests. According to Coptic religious tradition, it is still there, hidden in the Central basilica at Axum.
As you can imagine, I REALLY wanted to get a look at this fascinating relic, but had been told that this would not be possible. However, once in Axum, I discovered that my last day in the town happened to be one of the major Coptic Holidays, and as part of the ceremonies, the highest priests were planning to bring the arc out and march it through the town in a procession! What great vagabond's luck!
So, on that mystical morning, deep in a remote corner of Africa, I was the only foreigner to watch the amazing column of dozens of brightly colored, gloriously robed and mitered Coptic clergymen as they paced the town with a slow dignified tread. Before and after the procession strode priests swinging smoking incense censers on long chains. Horns, flutes and drums were played, and several of the party jangled clanking sistrums identical to the ones I had seen on Pharonic bas-reliefs along the Nile !! One priest carried the holy box on his head, covered by a beautiful embroidered red cloth, while four others walked around him, sheltering it with bright fringed parasols on poles. I shot a whole MONTH's worth of film in ten minutes, thrilled by the exotic scene and by my good fortune.