It finally happened. Christmas arrived in Ethiopia and it was certainly very different to my prior experiences. This story begins a little way back in time… No, I am not going back 2000 years, but rather to September, when I first arrived here in Adola. I had heard rumours of some small element of Catholicity in the town and to put things a little into perspective- about 1% of the population here are Catholic and for the most part they follow a different tradition more similar to the Orthodox rite. So arriving in a town with a catholic church was quite amazing. I kindly local took me from the Missionaries of Charity (Mother Teresa) compound to the location of the church, somewhere on the back streets and over the months I have come to know a little the community and the three priests that work there. Once I had got over the confusion of when Christmas was actually going to be celebrated, one of the priests invited me to join him on Christmas Eve at a church out in the countryside. The five sisters from the Missionaries of Charity were also going and he had told them that it was a huge church, much bigger than the one in Adola.
Church decorated for Christmas in Adola
A pleasant late afternoon drive out into the countryside, much of it on the dirt track that led out to the rural community we were visiting. The sisters were probably wondering where this large church they were promised was as they pulled into a compound with only two small huts in evidence.
The tiny ramshackle church had space for about 20 to 30 people, but for this occasions about 50 crammed into the confined space, wooden beams and thatch brushing the heads of those sat near the side walls. Shortly after dusk the mass started and although it wasn’t midnight mass I had come to know in other places, it was really something very special. There was such a strong sense of community amongst the locals who made the foreigners interlopers feel really part of it and one of the great charms about churches here in Oromia is the joy that they have when celebrating. Everyone joins in with the singing, which is beautiful, and are accompanied only by a drum, usually played by one of the ladies. Those in the know will appreciate how disappointing it is for me that there is no one playing an organ! For those not in the know, I prefer organs to be played, just once, preferably with a sledgehammer or hatchet.
At the end, one of the sisters made a short speech comparing the setting to that of Bethlehem, and there was certainly a rustic charm to the place that made it easier to imagine. However, for me the greatest part was the welcome from the community, which even extended to their offering us food at the end. Somehow this made Christmas extra special this year.
Cooing Goat
Christmas day itself (Genna) you will be pleased to read that I ended up feeling overfull in true Christmas dinner tradition, although not in the conventional way. It began with servings of goat cooked up in a huge pot and dished out after the morning mass in Adola. Just as they were about to start serving this the dean called and requested my presence for a ‘ceremony’ up on the college campus. So eating quickly I rushed back up to the college. The ceremony was… a meal at the dean’s house. The vice-dean had already invited me for lunch, but that was fine. I could go there later! It soon became apparent that I would be eating at several houses and given the farenji stomach is not geared up for copious amounts of injera (the local staple) I was feeling extremely full by the end of all these meal invitations.
Christmas Dinner number 1!
It is this hospitality of inviting friends and sometimes strangers to share what you have with that is one of the greatest things about Ethiopia and religion is not an issue – Muslim colleagues are also welcome to join in the celebrations, for example, and I believe it is the case for Muslim festivals too.
One of my little buddies on the college campus – The vice-dean’s youngest son.
It all made Christmas worth waiting for.