Cyber Ethiopia

Although I’ve visited the Blue Nile Falls several times, I’ve never seen them at full volume. With a thankfully heavy rainy season, and a new dam project to look at, I felt it was time for another look at the Falls. They say the best time to see the Falls is in October, when the run off is high, but it is after the rainy season so it is clear. In September the falls are high, but the water is muddy from the fresh runoff. It can also be very muddy for the 30 kilometer drive from Bahir Dar, unless you are lucky like me and catch a short dry spell. Close to the falls there are dramatic developments due to the construction of the 40 megawatt

power generating station and the large river diversion to feed it. The small town just before the station was unchanged despite the development - still sleepy with a very bad road. The tourism office was also the same - a muddy rough track leading up to the office and no notice to the uninitiated that you had to go there first to pay your 15 birr to see the falls (3 birr for Ethiopians, but 100 birr for a video camera). The town provides a good roadside view of life in rural Ethiopia. People walk and trade on the road, and sit in their front yards and chat, with women braiding each other’s hair. One thing that I appreciate about Gojjam, the area enclosed by the Blue Nile, is the treatment of women. This is the only rural area in Ethiopia where most girls are not circumcised to put it politely, mutilated to put it more bluntly. Gojjami men support this novel idea, knowledgeably pointing out that circumcision causes all sorts of problems, such as difficulties with childbirth. It would be nice if other rural Ethiopians followed their example. Once past the town the development is dramatic. New housing for professionals rises on the left, just before the massive cement spillway. There is a bridge over the spillway you must cross, giving a good view of the construction stretching back as far as you can see. From above the new dam is visible, and the water diversion channel. While those of us who live in Ethiopia are glad to see any additions to the power grid, I hope the diversion doesn’t detract too much from the falls. Also new is the fence, gate and guardhouse at the start to the trail to the falls. Someone actually checks to see if you have your ticket. It would be some irritating if you were visiting and passed the unmarked tourist office, then you were told to go back 2 km. to buy a ticket! There are also guides hanging around, but I gratefully declined their services, having visited the falls several times before. The volume of the falls was gratifyingly high, higher than I’d ever seen before. They gushed out in great brown and white torrents, sending up great plumes of spray. This is of course the source of the name of the falls - ‘Tis’ or ‘Smoke’ Abbay. Unfortunately the far right of the falls, which are square and straight, did not stretch down the cliff face as far as they do on the back of the one birr note. The classic view of the falls is only a 15 minute walk, down a hill over the ‘Portuguese’ bridge, up through a clutch of tukuls, along a ridge overlooking the new power station construction, and around the corner to the thundering falls. The ‘Portuguese’ bridge is a highlight, actually built after the Portuguese had been kicked out of Ethiopia by the Emperor Fasilides, who built it around the 1640’s. This is the narrowest point on the massive Abbay River, where the water thunders through a gorge less than 4 meters across. The swirling mass of water is reputed to be very deep. The story goes that before the bridge was built, adventurous if somewhat foolish souls would leap across the channel, a quick way of getting from the region of Gondar to Gojjam. Many didn’t succeed in the jump, and the turbulent waters of the gorge of Abbay are said to never give up a body - alive or dead. To stop this carnage the kindly and practical Fasilides built the bridge, perhaps the earliest and certainly the longest surviving in Ethiopia. The stone archways of the bridge fetchingly frame the gushing Abbay. Beyond the bridge there is a fairly constant, but thankfully low key, barrage of little girls selling gourds and scarves. Most of the peasants go about their business, which includes herding their animals along their paths, with the accompanying flies and the stuff that attracts them. Another recent improvement at the falls are the admittedly makeshift benches sitting at the major vantage points for the falls. Some of these were drenched by spray, but it’s the thought that counts. After a brief stop at the best viewing sites, especially the spot right in front of the main falls, I decided to push on . This was the first visit where I’d allowed myself enough time to accommodate the hike to the bottom of the falls. I was glad I did! Doing the full falls turns the expedition from a half hour jaunt to a two hour trek. From the main falls, the path winds a long way, down a hill and to a wide stream, after about 20 minutes. The shepherd boys who guided me had the sure bare feet of those toughened by hard walks. The fording of the stream isn’t made difficult by the depth or the current, but by my tender feet stepping on the stones. I felt like an old man clinging to the foot toughened young shepherds who grabbed me every time I stumbled on a sharp rock. Across the stream there is another walk across muddy fields for about 20 minutes to the falls. Once again their thunder announces them before they come into sight. The field is at the level of the top of the falls. You can walk around and look at them from the top, or clamber down below and look up at them. From below the falls are huge and in your face. In front of the main stream it takes only 30 seconds to be soaked to the skin by the spray. Only someone very foolish would do this on purpose. I did. The field in front of the falls is predictably very wet. Despite the thick mantle of grass, there is an appreciable amount of water and mud underfoot. It was impossible to walk in front of the falls without getting your feet soaked, along with the rest of you. Around the side of the falls you can climb up some rocks and get very close to standing right underneath the gush of water. It is a great sensation to feel that there are about a million litres of water almost falling on top of you. On top of the falls you have the opposite sensation. Millions of litres are flowing past you and disappearing over the edge. For those of braver heart than me, there is an opportunity to stare over the edge lying on your front. I didn’t do it. Our two guides brought us back from the falls, which as usual seemed a lot shorter than the way out. It took about 30 minutes to get back to the Portuguese bridge and on our way home.