Communicating in Adigrat |
As I pack in my room on the fourth floor of the hotel, I can look out the window to the main street of Adigrat as the town wakes up. Lots of traffic revving up and stores opening their doors. In the distance, a tall GSM antenna testifies to the modernization of Ethiopia. Unlike some of my travel mates, who regret these technological advances as they "spoil" the country, I see this as a sign of progress, improvement and freedom.
As we are leaving town to get on our way to Axum, Paola asks whether we could make a short detour an visit the Italian cemetery of Adigrat, where many of our compatriots who died here during and especially after the war of 1936-1936 are buried. It is not well marked and it takes some asking around to locate it. A small, simple graveyard with a simple marble plate "Cimitero Militare Italiano" by the wrought iron gate. No one is around to open for us but after some time we manage to find the keeper. Inside, a rather desolate scene of neglect. The grass is dead, the few trees look very sad and the walk ways rather unkempt.
Around 11 o'clock in the morning we reach Debre Damos, a very peculiar church on top of a small amba, reacheable only by... rope! Two ropes actually, one tied around our waist and the other in our hands, to pull each of our bodies up in turn with the help of a monk on top. The church is rather simple, only a few monks around and some kids preparing mud bricks.
As we continue driving we pass some villagers walking briskly on theshining new road. We stop at a road side cafe for a good Ethiopian coffee and a meal of ingera. By now it looks, and tastes, rather normal and routine.
When we reach Adua we run into a dilapidated stele erected in memory of the Italian soldiers fallen at the battle of Adua in 1986. Small and forgotten, a sad reminder of that futile battle over a century ago.