get to a holiday, so I went with it, and off we departed over the mountains for our two day trip to Alitena.----------------
Alitena could almost be lifted from the Alps; it nestles into 3000m+ mountains with only limited access from unmade winding roads. There were a lot prayers being said on the bus as our, luckily, expert driver negotiated various ruts, boulders and landslides. The boys taught me new ways to bless myself, which were much appreciated at times. I may have suffered from having various intimate parts of my body crushed as I flew sometimes a foot in the air with the bumps, but unlike, Tommy who was sat at the front, I didn’t have to look over every precipice!
We sang and we ate and we danced and picked up many people along the way. There is a few Birr to be made by offering a public bus service, even though there wasn’t really room, and we bought ‘color’ (roasted barley) and bananas – passed through the window - from people we met along the way. Much healthier than a Little Chef and a lot more fun! We also got surround by around 40 Ashenda dancers in one village and had to pay our way through…
We stopped in Adigrat, the centre of the Catholic Diocese that covers the Tigray region for lunch. Sr Fisseha and Sr Abeba (who was retuning home) went to find a restaurant and luckily a small hotel were accommodating. There was mass confusion from all when it came to ordering and the ‘new’ waiter really struggled! I found out later from one of the boys that most of the problems came from the fact we gave everyone a menu and told them to order whatever they liked. Most of them had never seen a menu, and if they had would head straight for the cheapest thing they could find. It was a real pleasure to see them ordering new things, getting a good bit of nutrition and protein down their necks and generally enjoying themselves. I watched with fascination as they quickly picked up on how to get the waiters attention, ask for more bread and all the other skills needed to negotiate an Ethiopian restaurant.
My appetite for injera had not really returned so I opted for the English, if not a little random, sounding ‘Hamburger with Rice’. It was 2Birr more expensive that the ‘Beef Burger with Rice’ and I assumed that it was a slightly better grade of meat. This was pretty much the last meal to appear from the kitchen, by which point the hotel manager was ready to swing at anyone after being continually aggravated by the ‘new’ waiter. Luckily John and Mikato were still waiting on their second dinner (they were sharing and so ate the first together, and waited for the second) so I had company. At which point a dried out little thing came out on a plate, “Sorry - no rice” (I was more sorry than him I think as I was pretty hungry!) and I would have put a large sum of money on it being a Tofu burger – it was certainly not meat. Only I could come all this way and have a sheep killed for me on Thursday and be presented with a veggie-burger on Friday. A commonly used phrase amongst us volunteers is “you couldn’t make it up if you tried”, and again we shared the sheer disbelief and comedy of it all.
We stopped at the Catholic Cathedral and learnt about the minor seminary (9th-12th grade – age 14+) and major seminary there, which have around 60 and 25 students respectively. This was good preparation for heading to the hotbed of holy orders, Alitena (I am yet to meet a priest or sister who is not from Alitena of there abouts). Various work was being done on the cathedral, presumably for the millennium, but the statue of Jesus on the top did look strikingly like superman. This naturally escaped the boys who were too obsessed with taking photos of themselves! Inside they were very reverent and appreciated all that the building had to offer – remember not one of them is Catholic but there was not one complaint even though our half hour stop over was taking up football practice time.
Around 5pm, we arrived at St Justin de Jacobis house in Alitena. This was built in 1973, but sadly occupied by Eritrean army forces for a long spell in the 90's and only recently re-acquired by the nuns around 2000. The sisters run various social development and pastoral programs have been implemented to improve the lives of those in the Irob Woreda (Irob District) – particularly in the larger towns of Alitena and Dawhan (nicknamed Dubai and Portsmouth by the locals – I tired so hard to find out why to no avail…). Strengthening the youth of the towns has been a priority – making them active members of the community involving themselves in HIV/AIDS prevention and addressing other social issues through clubs. They also speak yet another language here, Irobinian and so the usual greeting of ‘salem’ becomes ‘naga’ although most do speak Tigrinyian, Amharic and a little English too!
On our route, we have had come through Zelanbessa which was nearly completely destroyed by Eritrean bombing. It is heavily manned border post now, and although we were only checked twice by soldiers going to Alitena, we knew the checks would be far more regular and stringent coming back. The whole situation does feel very tense, and the sisters told us that most of the military presence is not actually visible. I’d counted a good few training camps, barracks, checkpoints and wandering soldiers so who knows what the actual presence in this area is. There are also curfews sometimes put in place at night making travel around the area impossible after dark – although perhaps that is a good thing given the precarious roads!
There are around a 100 people currently still ‘missing’ from Alitena. They are believed to be held somewhere unknown in Eritrea but no one is really sure. Many of these have been gone for over 10 years and include relatives of the sisters. We wanted to find out more about the war and the current situation, but there are still a lot of grief and hurt connected to the conflict so we have to ask our questions carefully. When it’s your first time to what is still classed as a post-war-zone it is difficult to work out how to behave.Alitena is commonly known amongst the sisters as the ‘holy land’ and where nearly everyone we have met in Tigray who is Catholic is from. It was here that St Justin de Jacobis (who brought Catholicism to Ethiopia) and his follower, Abba Gebremichael, spent much of their time avoiding persecution.
The electricity to the village (population around 3,500) was only reconnected last year and there are still only two phone lines, which work on solar power. There is no employment here and no government assistance of any kind. There is still the threat of Eritrean invasion, and the small town really is on the front line. It has no economic benefits to Ethiopia, but is merely a political pawn – if Eritrea take Alitena (which has always, always been part of Tigray), then they will just keep on encroaching. Extreme poverty is caused by reoccurring drought and famine – although we saw relatively ‘green’ scenery due to this years heavy rainfall. That will hopefully mean for food this year and for next. We did see a few WFP (World Food Programme) buildings on the way in, but the sisters said they are rarely used, as the government ‘doesn’t like to admit they need help’. In many of the 20-30 hamlets and villages surround Alitena many families have only just returned to lives again after being ‘displaced’ by war. The mines were only swept 6 years ago, and Sr Abeba said that in the last you could hear the odd explosion set off by unfortunate cattle.
In Alitena, the sisters are maintaining a strong presence. The war may restart and they have to be ready for that; the three sisters who went with the refugees from the villages are no longer are no longer based St Justin’s and have retired to their home areas. They spent many years living in the mountains and caves with the people; it is hard to understand how these sisters willingly put themselves in this position. Sr Abeba simply said, “They went with the poor, that’s who they are here to serve.”
On the Saturday morning we visited the youth centre – where we played table tennis – the kindergarten and clinic. This is the only medical provision for a huge number of people in the surrounding area and its work is so vital to these people. It is run by Sr Bisrat and Alemesh – although Sr Bisrat had gone to Adigrat with two HIV patients so they could received treatment. Luckily it is only 2 hours by car, as the walk takes from 6am until 6pm – and that’s by the ‘short-cut’.
With the help of the sisters based here, there is a tremendous community spirit here. People rally round and show great unity and solidarity in any kind of crisis. The sisters promote cottage industries and saving schemes, they run a Woman’s Cooperative, the youth program, the Montessori kindergarten and the clinic. The people here are so dependent on outside support and help. They literally have nothing.
Why might you ask would we want to take the street boys to such a place?
Naturally, the answer was football. The Alitena team do not get a great deal of competitive fixtures and so using some of the money we had brought with us, we decided that our team could do with a small holiday, where we knew we would get first rate hospitality and some beautiful scenery.
Most of the boys had been no further than Wurko with John and Cahal; no more than 40km from Mekele. It was a really big deal for them to travel so far, for many it may well be the longest journey they ever make. During the trip we had to constantly remind ourselves what a big thing we were doing here, it is difficult to get a sense of perspective when your lives share so little in common.
Sitting down for dinner on the Friday, I wish I could have captured the moment of 18 ‘street boys’, sat around a long table, under the moonlight, surrounded by the mountains, eating all the food they could manage.
Saturday saw the football match (I was not picked after Friday’s training when I nearly died after running around for 30mins at 3000m!!), St Vincent’s beat Alitena 6-2 which saw the celebrations last way past Adigrat on the bus home… me Tommy and John spent most of the morning looking around, reflecting on the beauty and poverty. Alitena really is like turning back 100 years or so, but every single person we met was wonderfully welcoming and asking if next time we could stay for longer! The sisters there are desperate to volunteers to go and help them out, but due to a variety of reasons including the UNMEE (United Nations Mission in Ethiopia and Eritrea) and army presence and the sheer remoteness of the place Sr Medhin is reluctant to send them out there (unless like John, who was here for 3 and ½ weeks) they know exactly what they are letting themselves in for.I would have loved to walk some of the mountain paths where stones have been laid or paths cut into the rock face with hammer and chisel by the locals (indeed the road in was built by bare hands 32 years ago!). Some of our boys had got up at around 6am and walked some of them with the local boys with whom they had become instant friends. I’d imagine, like on the bus, the scenery and views blew their minds. It certainly did mine!
The bus journey home was all the better for staying for a ‘feast’ at Saturday lunchtime where a goat was killed in our honour and devoured by the hungry boys. I quite enjoyed the meat, but perhaps that was as I had not met the goat before hand. I had also quite fancied slaughtering the cock that had started to crow outside our window at around 4am (coincidently the boys bed time! 18 boys in one room always was a recipe for sleep deprivation…). We were also treated to ‘gezum’, a local delicacy only reserved for the very best guests – Tommy and John did a quick escape leaving me to try it. I’m not sure I will ever have stuffed goat’s intestines again – but it wasn’t quite as bad as I thought it might be.
On our way home, we were checked numerous times by the army and police – we actually gave one army officer a lift from checkpoint to the next! Luckily we ‘passed’ every time and all the ID cards and school passes the boys had got them through without being suspected as Eritrean spies. We picked up more people, a car battery, some more ‘color’, 4 boxes of beles, empty glass coke bottles and all sorts – a bus journey through northern Ethiopia definitely has to be recommended for its randomness! However, seeing all the people walking for miles along the roadside carrying obiously very heavy loads, is a reminder that these people work very very hard for very little reward. The poor rural people of Ethiopia do live a very hard life.
As much as the boys loved their trip away, and had wanted to stay longer, they celebrated madly as we came over the mountain and saw the impressive sight of Mekele lit up at night. The shirts went out the window again and the clapping and singing started!
I do hope that this is a trip the boys won’t forget; for many reasons I certainly won’t. It was a relief to finally go to Alitena after hearing all John’s affectionate tales as well as it being the ‘homelands’ for every Catholic we meet. However, it is hard to imagine the lives of these people without the work of the Catholic Church. As Tommy pointed out, it’s a bit like a church with a load of beds attached! The people of the region are totally dependent on the education, medical care, social care, food, and everything else the sisters and the church provide. It is hard to comprehend without seeing it for yourself, but the work that takes place here is nothing short of truly amazing. I wish I could have helped out more in my short stay there; but it would be hard to forget Alitena and it’s wonderful people.
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Sunday saw Aziz’s graduation and we had a big lunch celebration for her. In the evening we took her and the two other girls (Medhin and Alem Sahi) who are currently working at St Vincent’s to Yordano’s for dinner. A really pleasant evening, but it is starting to feel like we are going home…
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