lalibela boys

the town of lalibela is unlike any i have ever visited. it is known (well, at least to the locals and travelers here in ethiopia) for being the holy land of the country – the “second jerusalem" – filled with rock hewn churches carved from or into the stone landscape in the 12th century. the population of 14,000 consists almost exclusively of orthodox christians; no mosques are to be found in the area. everyone wears a small silver or gold cross, usually strung around the neck on thin black thread. coming from addis, lalibela feels like a small hidden treasure with its religious traditions and slower pace.
the town rests at an elevation of about 2400 meters. entering the town, we drove through what appears to be a wealthier area – everything seeming more refined and developed; the people well dressed. we continued to draw attention, with onlookers staring as we passed and children smiling and waving wildly. many buildings are situated right on the edge of the road as usual, but just below a hidden embankment, small compounds of huts of a bygone era are nestled in between the newer, more modern buildings. two worlds have collided here or in the least have found a way to coexist. we continued upward, the town built into the hillside as though it belongs there. eventually we came to the town center, filled with all of the things i have come to expect – wandering goats and donkeys; people going this way and that; stone cutters at construction projects; small shops selling bananas, mangos, and avocados or small historic replicas and trinkets – and a few that continue to surprise, such as the obama souvenir shop.
the boys here capitalize on the tourism industry. they flock to tour groups intent, specifically, on attaching themselves to an individual within a tour group whom they befriend. suddenly, they begin to turn up at the beginning or end of any of your tours or activities; they know where you are staying and loiter at the entrance gates of your hotel or request to meet you there in the evening; and they begin to weave their tale, bent on selling you on their story. the guidebooks warn travellers about them, and one can’t help but question their motives and intentions. even still, i find them compelling beyond belief.
my lalibela boys are kitreb and tazic, two teenage boys upon whom i first stumbled when i emerged from bete medhane alem (house of the savior of the world). they were perched above me on a rock escarpment and did the usual – called down to ask where i am from, followed by “obama is the best!” and a flurry of questions. they posed for a picture, requesting i send it to them as little folded bits of paper cascaded down from above, upon which they had written their names and both a postal and email address.
at the end of our tour of the churches, they were waiting to introduce themselves more formally – to tell me about their school, their families, and the lives they live and what they hope to achieve. suddenly they apologized and bolted away, running down a skinny footpath to the road and into the tangle of the town. apparently, a policeman wasapproaching to scatter the boys who had swarmed around our group as a whole – an action that became commonplace throughout our stay. anytime boys came running toward me but kept going right on by, i knew i would soon see a policeman, oftentimes brandishing a large stick.
kitreb and tazic became my boys because they definitely attached themselves to me… our group could leave one place and end up somewhere new, hours later, and there they were, smiles on, wanting to pick up the conversation from where we left off.
on our second day in lalibela, my group took a guided mule ride to a mountain monestary. we loaded up on the mules just outside our hotel, each mule driver competing to secure a rider, and headed off toward the town center. sure enough, kitreb emerged from the crowds, offered a toothy good morning, and began to walk alongside me and converse. by the time we reached the outskirts of the town, tazic had arrived, and the two boys accompanied me to the point where we dismounted our mules and walked the final stretch to the monastery as well as our descent from the mountain. this has to be my favorite time with them, when our conversation seemed most genuine. tazic described his love of running, boasting that he runs five kilometers every morning, while kitreb spoke of football. i told them about scout and how in the states we treat our animals quite differently – they looked at me in disbelief when i explained that scout lives in the house with me and that i love to take her for walks and play fetch with her, as here, dogs are solely used for guarding a home (or living as a stray).
their greatest hope is to find someone who will agree to sponsor them – to send money for their schooling – so they can attend private school or move to addis ababa to attend university and have money for rent and the daily costs of living. kitreb says he would like to be a doctor, explaining that healthcare is very limited in lalibela and not of the best quality; tazic aspires to be a water engineer, describing the systems he would like to design to provide clean water to his village. both boys say that if they leave in order to acquire a better education, they would return to lalibela afterward as they want to help their own communities.
this scenario is bittersweet. perhaps these boys are tangled up in the legendary scam of the lalibela boys, wanting nothing more than to find some unsuspecting tourist who will fall for their story and issue them money unquestioningly. perhaps their story is genuine and their best bet for fulfilling their dreams is to find some compassionate traveler who is willing to set up a legitimate sponsorship. the latter is the story of habtu, our tour operator. he himself is a former lalibela boy who worked shining shoes and practiced his english with the foreigners who wandered through his town. on one occasion, he made his way into the heart of a man with whom he shared his dream of getting an education and beginning his own tourism company. several years and one sponsorship later, habtu is now 25 years old and running the best trip through ethiopia that i could hope for.
i believe in my heart of hearts that these boys truly are good kids, trying to get by and make the best of their lives with the situation and opportunities they’ve been given. i completely empathize with their efforts to engage the foreigners who happen upon their town. little else exists in terms of options. education seems to be their ticket to a better life, but even that is a rare commodity if one doesn’t have the means to make it happen.
for the time being, kitreb and tazic will venture forth with me, as their friendliness and eagerness have left impressions on my heart.