-
Trading seeds of change
Born in the Oromia town of Warra Jarso, 175kms north of the capital Addis Ababa, Abiyot Shiferaw was brought up with his two sisters and four brothers in a happy family environment. Like all Ethiopians, they celebrated special occasions by holding a traditional coffee ceremony. From an early age, Abiyot had a strong sense of fairness but saw injustice all around him. He saw how his fellow countrymen and women did not have access to clean water or could not pay for basic medical treatment. He observed how children were denied an education because their parents couldn’t afford to send them to school. He witnessed state-sponsored corruption at the hands…
-
Tour de Ethiopique
When the day of departure finally came, the early morning sun was shining brightly in a big, blue African sky without a threatening storm cloud in sight – the first time in a month. A sign that Kareumt (the long rainy season from June – September) was finally coming to an end as the warm rays bathed the Friary garden with the promise of an Ethiopian spring. After bidding farewell to the Brothers over a simple breakfast of honey and bread, washed down with copious amounts of freshly prepared coffee, I took a deep breath and started to turn my wheels once more. If the truth be told, I had…
-
A Capuchin Retreat
The move from the hustle and bustle of the backpacker Piazza district to the peace and tranquility of the Friary was just the (self prescribed) ticket. After receiving an invitation to join the community for a few days, I set off on the bike in the pouring rain to find the compound 10kms outside Addis city centre. The short but eventful ride involved negotiating around huge mud filled craters big enough to swallow a bus whilst being followed by groups of excitable young children shouting a chorus of ‘Faranji!’ (foreigner). Arriving at the Friary – ecstatically drenched and splattered from head to toe in the ubiquitous reddish-brown mud of the…
-
Coming Home to the Birthplace of Buna
It took the jet propelled fly-by-wire tin can a mere four hours to reach Addis. As we descended out of the turbulent storm clouds, it felt like being transported to a completely different world. The parched earth of the Eastern Mediterranean was now replaced with lush semi-tropical pasture, pine and eucalyptus forest that fringed the sprawling city below. “Welcome to our shower!” smiled the sprightly young taxi driver as I emerged from Bole International Airport into an early morning deluge. The first drops of rain on my face in more than six weeks felt cool and refreshing. My first instinct was to scan the precariously balanced bike box being fixed…