Beyond trainings: teacher professional development

About a month ago, the Uganda National Examinations Board (UNEB) reported that as many as 80% of teachers in Uganda lack basic literacy and numeracy skills. The results come from assessments conducted in the country’s Primary Teacher Colleges (PTCs), and indicate a decline in performance from previous years. In the newspapers and online, people expressed their surprise and concern and engaged in debate about the causes of this issue.


It is likely that the 80% statistic is a bit exaggerated, and I will maintain some skepticism until UNEB releases a full report on their methodology and findings. Institutions like UNEB tend to be a bit alarmist with such announcements.

However, teaching quality in Uganda, among other countries, is not a situation to be taken lightly. A limited supply of trained teachers remains a significant challenge to education systems in the global south. According to the UNESCO Institute for Statistics, in one third of all countries, only 75% of teachers are trained according to their national standards.

Governments like Uganda and Kenya, which both introduced universal primary education in the early 2000s, continue to face the immense challenge of keeping up with increased enrolment. It is estimated that to provide every child with primary education by 2030 (one of the UN’s lofty sustainable development goals), the world will need to recruit 25.8 million teachers. Communities in remote and/or conflict-affected areas, where the majority of out of school children reside, face an even greater difficulty with recruiting and training teachers.


Many international organisations have responded to the issue of education quality. But which of their approaches are the most effective? How can the international community best support countries to develop a strong supply of teachers?

When it comes to teacher professional development, most international agencies rely on the obvious solution to the problem of teacher quality: more training for teachers. Often, these donor-supported activities take place outside of existing teacher education institutions (like Uganda’s PTCs).

Anyone who has worked in international development, or any civil society or government organization anywhere, can picture what one of these trainings look like. Participants spend the day sitting at a table in a bare room. A facilitator, armed with chart paper and markers, leads some activities. After an hour or two, participants’ attention is focused more on the tea and coffee on the back table than the content of the training. At the end of the day, participants sign an attendance sheet and, if the facilitator is keen, a survey to monitor their learning outcomes. The facilitator and NGO staff leave hoping the training content will stick with the participants.

And sadly, too often, the effort ends there. No matter how engaging or relevant the material presented to the participants, true professional development for teachers cannot end with a 9-5 training.

Effective monitoring of teacher professional development at the school and district levels is crucial. Donor agencies should support school administrations to develop strategies for teacher support in their schools. This includes regular observation and assessment, open classrooms, and educational of practice. Effective school-based monitoring is also key to improving teacher motivation. Weak renumeration schemes are not the only barriers to retaining teachers in schools (although they certainly help: in Uganda, teacher attrition dropped by 24% between 2005 and 2006 after a 33% pay rise). Teacher motivation is also improved when teachers are actively supported by their head teacher, other teachers, and their district education offices. They are also more likely to stay when they are involved in decision-making and school development plans.

Donors should also consider ways to build the capacity of local governments to monitor teacher quality, and track teacher attrition and movement between schools. This could also involve supporting governments to develop their own locally relevant professional development programs for teachers in their districts or counties, in partnership with institutions like Uganda’s PTCs.

School administrations are also beginning to consider approaches that blend online coursework or videos with in-person instruction. Videos may be used to prepare teachers for in-person trainings, or as supplements during or after the trainings. Research has shown that a blended approach to professional development is more effective than single-mode trainings. It may also reduce the costs associated with scheduling multiple trainings with a consultant when information can instead be disseminated electronically.

Finally, we need to improve our understanding of teacher professional development globally. This includes improving our data on teacher qualifications in general – a messy endeavor given the range of different national standards across and within countries. It also means supporting research institutions to investigate issues affecting teachers in their respective regions, and thus developing a stronger base of evidence on the most effective professional development strategies in different contexts.


Donor-funded professional development programs, and their many trainings, will continue to be part of how organizations seek to improve education quality in the global south. And they are certainly an important place for sharing knowledge and best practices in teaching and learning. But they must be considered one part of a more systemic approach to education quality, that includes school-based support, communities of practice, and district-level monitoring.

The availability of well-trained, motivated, and supported teachers is key to positive learning outcomes among students. We frequently hear stories of how a single teacher can change the lives of his or her students, so just imagine how powerful an effective teaching force and transform a community or country.


Learning through play in northern Uganda

While procrasti-reading earlier this week, I came across an interesting article discussing disparities in play-based learning in American early child education. Lower-income public schools are less likely to have the resources and time to dedicate to meaningful play that encourages inquiry and creativity. When there are increased pressures to introduce academic skills early and ‘close the achievement gap’, child-directed play is often replaced with more worksheets, instruction, and testing.

Especially in the pre-school years but also throughout primary education, play is essential to children’s cognitive, social, emotional, and physical development. This seems obvious to those of us who had the privilege of learning in environments that were structured and facilitated in ways that encouraged us to learn through play. As a kid at home and at school, materials like counting cubes, paint, and craft supplies were part of my daily routine. I had so much lego I could have moved out of my parents’ at age 8 to live in my own lego house (a goal that I would still like to achieve one day).

Last week, I had the opportunity to visit two schools where play is a central component of a holistic early childhood development model. But I wasn’t in a middle-upper class neighbourhood in North America. I was in Arua and Koboko, two districts in the West Nile region of northern Uganda.


An MECP-supported classroom in Koboko, Uganda.

The schools I visited are part of the renowned Madrasa Early Childhood Program (MECP), an initiative of the Aga Khan Foundation (AKF). The program was started in 1986 to provide pre-school education to underserved Muslim communities in the coastal region of Kenya. The first MECP curriculum combined contemporary pre-school content with local Swahili culture, language, songs, and stories. The word madrasa comes from the Arabic ‘a place of study’. In the context of this program, however, the word refers to pre-schools.

The MECP is now 30 years old and has established over 200 pre-schools in Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda, and has reached over 70,000 students. Each of the three countries has an early childhood development resource centre used for teacher trainings and outreach. The MECP has trained over 4000 teachers and over 1700 government officials, and the program’s early childhood development institute in Kampala, Uganda is now an accredited teacher training institution. The program is engaged in meaningful research, advocacy, and policy work surrounding issues of education and early childhood in East Africa.

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Display boards in the MECP resource centre in Kampala, Uganda.

As the program grew, schools developed school management committees (SMCs) intended to engage community leaders and parents (including women and mothers) in the school management process. This allows communities to take pride and responsibility of the madrasas in meaningful and locally relevant ways.

The madrasas pay keen attention to local context in their design and implementation. In the schools in Arua, instruction is in the local language Lugbarati, while in Koboko the teacher and students speak Kakwa. During one visit to a madrasa in Arua, the students split into two groups for 30 minutes of religion. One teacher guided Muslim students to a mosque next door for prayers and Quran, while another teacher read a Bible story to the Christian students.

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A daily schedule in a madrasa in Kampala.

One of the most impressive features of the madrasas is that almost all of the learning materials are made from recycled objects or materials from the school’s surrounding environment. The ECD resource centre has developed innovative ways to turn old bottle caps, maize, and plant fibres into math manipulatives and art supplies. The teachers have attended workshops where they create their own storybooks in both English and the local language.


Group work in Koboko, Uganda.

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Locally made literacy materials.


Math with maize!

In a context where classroom models are largely based on teacher-led instruction and rote learning, it is refreshing to see students away from their desks, being active, and learning together. According to a study published in the International Journal of Early Years Education, the program has had significant positive impacts on children’s cognitive development and their school readiness, when compared to students who attended other preschools or remained at home. This is not just because madrasa students begin Primary 1 already having basic numeracy and literacy skills, but also because they have a more positive relationship with learning. Teachers often tell us that students who complete the madrasa program and progress to Primary 1 sometimes come back to the madrasas and wish they could stay. And I don’t blame them – my mornings spent in the madrasas made me wish I could be a student there too.

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An MECP classroom in Kampala, Uganda. The MECP established pre-schools throughout central Uganda before expanding its support to West Nile region, where I currently live and work.

My visits to the madrasas were one of my first activities as an international development management fellow with AKF. During my fellowship, I won’t be working directly with the MECP, but it was wonderful to visit some of the schools being impacted by the program’s work. During my fellowship, I’ll be working in monitoring and evaluation for some of AKF Uganda’s other education projects, which include education system strengthening, community libraries, ICT for teacher professional development, and youth adult literacy. If you’d like to learn about those projects, keep an eye out for my future blog posts.

The views expressed in this post are entirely my own and do not represent the views or opinions of the Aga Khan Foundation, Aga Khan Development Network, or Global Affairs Canada.


Here I go again

I’m starting this blog up again as I begin a new chapter in my life. It’s been over a year since I’ve last posted here. Since then, I completed my internship with the Kenya Equity in Education Project, wrote my thesis, and graduated from the University of Toronto after a hectic year of juggling studies with part-time work.

My next step is a fellowship in international development management with the Aga Khan Foundation Canada (AKFC). As part of the fellowship, I will be travelling to Arua, Uganda for 8 months to support the monitoring and evaluation of the foundation’s work in strengthening education systems in the West Nile region of the country.

The activities I have planned for the next 7 days include organizing paperwork, changing my mind 30 times about which pairs of pants to bring, and spending valuable time with friends and family (including my two nephews, 2 year old Jack and 1 week old Sam). I fly out of YYZ on August 4th and will be travelling through London, Nairobi, and Kampala en route to Arua.

I’m thrilled to have this opportunity to grow personally and professionally while living in the beautiful country of Uganda. Stay tuned!

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The views expressed in this blog are entirely my own and do not represent the views or opinions of the Aga Khan Foundation, Aga Khan Development Network, or Global Affairs Canada.

Christmas in Kericho

I couldn’t make it home to my family for Christmas, so instead I spent it with my flatmate’s family. Barbara has spent most of her life in Iowa but was born here and has family living in western Kenya. A day after I got home from Ethiopia, I hopped on a bus to Kericho, a town about one hour’s drive east of Kisumu.


Kericho is where Kenya’s finest tea plantations are located. Barbara’s family grows tea in addition to various other crops like sukuma wiki (kale) and a maize. Kericho is where some of Kenya’s Kalenjin ethnic group live. There are a few different languages in the Kalenjin community. Barbara’s family speaks Kipsigis in addition to English and Kiswahili. The kids in Kericho don’t start learning English or Kiswahili until they start school. Instead, their mother tongue is their first language, so I couldn’t communicate with the young kids except for body language and funny faces.

Some kids hanging out at a local outdoor church

Some kids hanging out at a local outdoor church

Christmas week in Kericho was quite relaxing for me. We spent some time walking around the farm and visiting all the houses, each belonging to one of the aunts and uncles.  Around tea time, we made a rotation to maximize our tea drinking opportunities at each house.

Freshly chopped sugar cane

Freshly chopped sugar cane from one of our house visits

Midway through the trip we drove to Kisumu to visit a friend. It’s too bad we only had one day there because it seems like a fun city. We had lunch on the shore of Lake Victoria and had some delicious tilapia with chips.

On Christmas Eve, the cousins organized a special gathering where no adults were allowed. Snack packs were put together, sodas were purchased, games were planned, and a playlist was created for dancing. I had an absolute blast. Near the end of the party, a meeting was called to discuss a plan for buying a special gift for their grandmother next Christmas – each of the cousins would set aside a certain amount each month to be collected at the end of the year.

On Christmas day, everyone got involved with preparing a big meal. There was something being made at each of the houses – vegetable stew at one, chapatti at another, and so on. We spent most of the morning at the house in charge of the mbuzi (goat). A fine looking goat was chosen and I stayed to watch the entire process of its slaughtering. I also was handed a knife to help with skinning the carcass.

Me holding two goat feet

Me holding two goat feet


Every part of the animal was used somehow. The best meat was put aside for our Christmas stew, and the blood was saved for pudding. One of the house helps wrapped up the male genitals in a leaf and a plastic bag and put it in his pocket. We inquired about this and learned that only circumcised men are allowed to eat this part of the male. We also asked if women get to eat the equivalent of the female; this was taken as a ridiculous proposition as the answer was no, of course not.

I ate Christmas lunch with all the men while the women ate in a separate room. We were served first, but I got the insider’s scoop from Barbara and apparently the women set aside the best bits of meat for themselves. They did all of the cooking, after all. Regardless, it was delicious.

Christmas lunch

Christmas lunch

After lunch everyone got into their Sunday best for a family photo. We then got into a circle and I was presented with a gift, a beautiful calabash decorated by one of the aunts. I was so honoured and thankful not only for the special gift, but to be welcomed so openly by this family. It was tough being away from home for the holiday, but at least I was made to feel belonging somewhere.

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It was then time to go visit a different grandmother living a few kilometers away. The 25 or so cousins (I never did get an accurate count) and I hopped into the back of a lorry for what would be, for me, the ride of a lifetime. The cousins quickly climbed up to the overhanging metal bars on the top of the truck to get the best views. I decided to lay low and just peak over the side. The views of the tea plantations on the way were absolutely beautiful. The driver was a bit of daredevil as we went up and down the hilly, unpaved roads, but we all made it there and back just fine. Definitely not a Christmas I’ll ever forget!

Lorry ride

Lorry ride

The view from grandmother's house

The view from grandmother’s house


Ethiopia trip pt. 3

From Gonder, I flew to Lalibela, the town I was most excited about visiting. Lalibela is a popular destination in Ethiopia because of its 11 magnificent rock-hewn churches from the 12th century. The churches’ monolithic structures are awe-inspiring. Lalbiela is also the second most important Christian site of pilgrimage in Ethiopia after Aksum, a town in the far north that is believed in the Ethiopian Orthodox faith to hold the Ark of the Covenant. I was unfortunately unable to make it up to Aksum but I hope to visit one day. And besides, Lalibela alone was captivating enough.

Bete Abba Libanos

Bete Abba Libanos

Bete Giorgis (St George), the most photographed church of Lalibela

Bete Giyorgis (St George), the most photographed church of Lalibela

Bete Giorgis

Bete Giyorgis

Lalibela is often referred to as Africa’s Jerusalem, because the layout of the churches and many of its intricacies are modeled after the original Israel. It is said that Lalibela was built as a New Jerusalem following the capture of Jerusalem by Muslims in 1187. There is a river running through Lalibela that separates some churches from the others, and it is referred to as the River Jordan. One section is meant to represent the Tomb of Adam. And the names of the churches are reminiscent of Hebrew: for example, Bete Amanuel means House of Emmanuel, coming from the Hebrew word beth, meaning house (UNESCO).

Outside Bete Gabriel-Rafael

Outside Bete Gabriel-Rafael

Bete Lehem

Bete Lehem

The sheer size of the churches took my breath away. I wondered aloud how it was possible that these churches were carved into the ground. My guide informed me that although King Lalibela had hundreds of workers, various sections were completed by angels overnight. I was also impressed by the planning required to design the network of tunnels connecting the churches.

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An exit of a tunnel

An exit of a tunnel

Lalibela’s churches are a UNESCO World Heritage Site. That’s wonderful, but when this honour was bestowed upon the little town, hundreds of families living in the vicinity of the churches were displaced due to conservation regulations put in place by UNESCO. Disappointed, I asked my guide what was done with the funds from the church’s hefty $50US admission fee. Based on his response, it is doubtful that much of the proceeds benefit the average residents of Lalibela, a town with considerable poverty.

On my second day of Lalibela, I went on an early morning hike in Lalibela’s mountainside. It was intended to be a hike to a monastery called Asheten Maryam, but I decided to just go for the views of Lalibela. I was monaster-ied out after visiting Bahir Dar and had read reviews that this one wasn’t anything unique. The hike was exhausting but I took some beautiful photos and got to walk by the teff fields and villages of Lalibela’s countryside.


Hiking in Lalibela’s countryside


I spent two nights in Lalibela to soak up the small town vibe. Then it was back to Addis for two more days. At the top of my list was the Ethnological Museum at the main campus of Addis Ababa University. As a sociocultural anthropology student, this museum was a highlight for me. It included pottery, clothing, technologies, children’s games, and various other artefacts from the various ethnic groups making up Ethiopia’s cultural landscape. The second floor boasts a fascinating exhibit on musical instruments and an art gallery. Plus, the building itself used to be a palace of Emperor Haile Selassie and Empress Menen, with some of their living quarters preserved. Their bed and bathrooms were surprisingly mundane. I also wondered why the Emperor’s toilet was so far away from his bidet.

Emperor Haile Selassie's bed

Emperor Haile Selassie’s bed

Emperor Haile Selassie's bathroom

Emperor Haile Selassie’s bathroom

Military uniform

Military uniform

I also went to Ethiopia’s National Museum. Although this one also has interesting cultural artefacts, the highlight is its natural history section, which contains the remains of the famous australopithecine afarensis, Lucy. I’m a huge fan of Lucy’s so we took a selfie together. Outside the museum, I also checked out a cannon used by the Ethiopian army to defeat the Italians during the Battle of Adwa in 1896.


Lucy and I

Acheulean tools

Acheulean tools


A cannon from the Battle of Adwa

I also visited the famous Tomoca coffee shop to have a macchiato, buy some beans to take home, and people-watch.


A macchiato

A macchiato


On my last evening, I took a minibus up Entoto Hill, referred to by some as Addis’ rooftop. I needed to take two minibuses and one Toyota pickup truck to get up there, so that was an adventure. At the top is the charming Entoto Maryam church. There wasn’t enough time to go inside, so I spent some time checking out the exterior while a very dedicated group of people prayed outside. From Entoto Hill I also took this photo overlooking the city at sunset.

Looking at Addis from Entoto Hill

Looking at Addis from Entoto Hill

Entoto Maryam

Entoto Maryam

I visited my favourite part of Addis Ababa at its peak time. Saturday morning at Mercato Centrale. This is the largest market in East Africa and one of the most hectic, crowded, overwhelming places I’ve ever visited. I loved it! I don’t have any pictures because most of the time I didn’t feel comfortable taking out my camera. And the one time I did, a lady yelled at me to stop, and so I requested her request. I figured out how to get there by minibus, which again was a bit of an adventure. I enjoyed wading through the crowds, visiting the market’s various sections: vegetables, meats, metals, plastics…and my favourite: spices. The spice market was so beautifully colourful and an intense experience for the senses. I made sure to buy some to take home, including Ethiopia’s unique berbere, as well as some incense. Before heading to the airport, I finished my visit in Ethiopia in the best way I can think of – by sitting in a little café in Mercato, having broken English-Amharic conversations with some folks over a coffee.


Ethiopia Trip pt. 2

After arriving in the scenic Bahir Dar, I sat by the shore of Lake Tana at a café and had some coffee to warm me up while waiting for my tour to start. In addition to its gorgeous scenery, Lake Tana has several island monasteries from the 15th and 16th centuries.  The monks that live there today share oral histories of the islands and safeguard beautiful artefacts such as manuscripts and silver crosses.

laketana1monastery3monastery4I hopped on a boat with a group of Ethiopians for the tour. I was the only farenji (foreigner) on board but I was made to feel welcome. An inquisitive older man, an engineer, asked me where I was from and we got to talking. It turns out he lived in Nairobi for several years, so we compared our thoughts of the city as we enjoyed views of the lake.


At the first monastery, Entoto Iyasu, a monk told us that the original inhabitants of the island worshipped snakes before Orthodox Christianity arrived. We were then shown an old and enormous snake skin hanging on the wall. It turns out that a few hundred years ago, there was a big snake that kept eating the monk’s chickens so they added it to the wall decoration. It was then that I confirmed that there would be no messing around with any monks during my stay in Ethiopia. In the island’s church, we saw colourful paintings of various bible scenes dating back to the 15th century.


I was struck by the dedication of the monks to their faith, many of whom were seated quietly praying for extended periods of time, and with the gentle care with which the artefacts were protected. The following two monasteries, St. Gabriel and Debre Maryam, had similar paintings, as well as other interesting artefacts pictured below. In between, our boat driver took us out to the part of Lake Tana that meets the Blue Nile.




Where Lake Tana meets the Blue Nile

After lunch, I hired a tuk tuk driver to take me up to Haile Selassie’s Palace, at the top of a small mountain.  Knowing I wouldn’t be able to go inside, I had some afternoon time to kill and wanted to get a nice view of Bahir Dar. Up top, I was able to see over the city and the lake. The palace itself wasn’t extraordinary.


As sunset approached, I walked by the lakeshore and had a beer outside at a place that I think was called Mango House. Dozens of Bahir Dar residents were seated facing the water as the sun went down. There was a charming carnival with a ferris wheel nearby that caught my attention too.


The next morning I took a minibus to Gonder, about 3 hours drive away. The vehicle was jam packed with people but the ticket was cheap and I still was able to joy the hilly scenery. After arriving at my hotel, the L-Shape, I found a guide, Yigza, to take me around the town (or rather, he found me). We travelled throughout the city by Tuk Tuk and I had a good time hearing about the town from someone who called Gonder his home.

My ride for the day

My ride for the day

Our first stop was Debre Berhan Selassie (“Mountain of Light”) a pretty 17th century church with impressive paintings. It was quiet when we arrived mid-morning, and Yigza had to ask a priest to open the doors for us as nobody was around. I was a bit mesmerized by the painting of angels covering the ceiling.

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We then drove to Felasha Village, which is just outside Gonder. It used to be inhabited by hundreds of Ethiopian Jews. Some of their descendants still live there, and the community is well-known for their handicrafts. We visited the community’s small synagogue, and then explored some of the handicraft shops, some of which were run by a women’s cooperative. We admired the clay pots and carvings, fabrics, and jewelry, before heading back to town.


A synagogue in Felasha village

A synagogue in Felasha village


The highlight of the day came after lunch – a walk through Gonder’s 17th century royal enclosure, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. As we expored the ruins, my guide gave an entertaining account of the antics of various Ethiopian kings in Gonder’s history, including Emperor Fasilidas, the city’s founder. Visitors can see the remaining structures of a concert hall, banquet hall, and lion cages.

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A visit to the castles was followed by a short drive to Fasilidas’ Bath. The Bath hosts a special ceremony at Gonder’s annual Timket (Epiphany) celebration in early January. Although it was empty when I visited in

December, the pool is filled with water during Timket. After the water prayed over, dozens of young men jump into the pool to benefit from its blessing and commemorate the baptism of Jesus. Sounds like quite the pool party!


And so went my perfect day in Gonder! Now just one more stop before returning to Addis…


Ethiopia Trip pt. 1

The week before Christmas, I briefly escaped from Kenya to visit Ethiopia. It was an exciting journey of history, religion, nature, and cuisine. I’ll spread the stories from my trip over a few posts because there’s so much I want to highlight about this incredible country.

I flew to Addis Ababa and arrived early afternoon on a Friday. The capital reminded me of Nairobi in some ways: its busy and bustling atmosphere, countless construction projects, and a diversity in the socioeconomic realities lived by its inhabitants.

In Addis, I stayed at Mr Martin’s Cozy Place, a guesthouse with an atmosphere as friendly as its name suggests. I never figured out why the place is called Mr Martin’s. The owner’s name is Davit. Anyway, it was a simple but comfortable option in a safe location with helpful staff. The main house is also occupied by a family, which might not appeal to all travelers, but I really enjoyed that there were pets and goofy kids running around.

My first activity in Addis was a walking food tour with Addis Eats. The co-founders, Eliza and Xavier, are American researchers with an impressive range of knowledge on all things food and all things Ethiopia. Not only did this tour equip me with some useful info and tips for food choices throughout my trip, but it also acted as an introduction to the geography of Addis and the history and culture of Ethiopia. The tour started with a small family-run joint where we had refreshing mango-avocado blends. Then we went to a small, sort of hidden restaurant frequented by locals, where we had two different types of wat (stew) over injera. We weren’t there at the right time to see injera being made, but Xavier told us how this spongy sourdough pancake is made out of a very fine grain called teff. It was here we had shiro wat, my favourite type of wat, because it’s packed with berbere, a special spice blend I really like.  After that, we went to a mid-range restaurant to have whole fried tilapia with some spicy sauces. Ethiopian cuisine includes some great fish selections, it being the source of the Blue Nile. Next, we went to a little café for a traditional coffee ceremony, complete with frankincense and a popcorn snack. I never really liked coffee, but my visit to Ethiopia taught me to appreciate it much more, and I asked for a coffee ceremony at several restaurants during my trip. Ethiopia is a special place for coffee because it is coffee’s indigenous home, where you can find the widest genetic diversity of the plant. Our tour concluded with a few more dishes at a high end restaurant, but by then I was really stuffed. The tour altogether cost $50US, a pretty good deal considering how much food there was, the quality of information shared with us, and the personal nature of the tour.

An assorted spread including different types of wat, collard greens,, and other veggies on injera

An assorted spread including different types of wat, collard greens,, and other veggies on injera

Fried tilapia

Fried tilapia

A traditional coffee ceremony

A traditional coffee ceremony

The next day I spent out on the town. First I went to the Red Terror Martyr’s Memorial Museum. This relatively new museum provides a haunting account of the Soviet-sponsored communist rule in Ethiopia and Eritrea that killed at least 30,000 people (though it is estimated that the number is more likely in the hundreds of thousands) in the 1970s, following the military takeover of Emperor Mengistu Haile Mariam. The museum’s guides are survivors of the violence who protested against the regime. In addition to their own experiences, they share stories of other dissenters who were not so lucky, as you pass by their photographs, clothing, and bones.

Photographs of some of the Derg's victims

Photographs of some of the Derg’s victims

Next I went to the Addis Ababa Museum, which was pretty unremarkable so I’ll stop there.

Then I had lunch at an Italian restaurant called Juventus, mainly because I knew my Dad would get a kick out of it but also because I heard the Italian food in Addis was amazing.  I had pizza and it was pretty good but nothing special. However, I did have an incredible pesto pasta dish later in the week at a restaurant called Grani di Pepe. Anyway, Juventus is right behind Meskel Square, an important landmark in Addis Ababa for a few reasons. First of all, it’s a central location for the city’s minibuses, some of which almost ran me over when walking through the square. (I used the minibuses several times in Addis, and was surprised that they were generally cleaner and in better condition than what I’m used to here in Nairobi). Second, the public square is the location of the annual Meskel Festival. Meskel in Amharic means cross, and this festival commemorates when the crucifix was revealed to Emperor Constantine’s mother, an important event in the Orthodox faith. Finally, Meskel Square was renamed Revolution Square in 1974 when the monarchy fell and Emperor Mengistu rose to power. He erected enormous portraits of Marx, Engels, and Lenen in the square during this time (which I imagine looked kind of creepy).

Meskel Square

Meskel Square

On my second day in Addis, I also visited the Holy Trinity Cathedral (Kidist Selassie). It was built in commemoration of Ethiopia’s freedom from Italian occupation. On the ceiling of the front section of the church is a beautiful painting of the Ascension of Jesus Christ and some other New Testament stories. Framing this are two other important paintings: one of the Battle of Adwa, when Ethiopia defeated the Italians in 1896, and another of Haile Selassie speaking to the League of Nations. At the front of the church, there is also a section with the tombs of Emperor Haile Selassie and Empress Menen. Not only is this church a significant place of worship, but it also demonstrates the tight links between church and state in Ethiopia.

Holy Trinity Cathedral

Holy Trinity Cathedral

The inside of Holy Trinity

The inside of Holy Trinity

A painting of Haile Selassie speaking to the League of Nations

A painting of Haile Selassie speaking to the League of Nations

From Holy Trinity I went to St George’s Cathedral. St. George’s is where Haile Selassie was crowned, so it’s considered a site of pilgrimage for rastafarians. I didn’t get there in enough time to go inside but sat outside for a while and listened to some of the worship music playing.

St. George's Cathedral

St. George’s Cathedral

While I sat and listened, a guide hanging around tried to convince me to go on some other tours. Instead, I convinced him to take me to a tej house, a type of bar I wanted to visit but wasn’t sure I could on my own. Tej is a type of mead or honey wine produced in Ethiopia and Eritrea. It is flavoured with the leaves of buckthorn, a plant I know nothing else about except it’s used to make tej.  Tej is a sweet yellow drink served in a vase-like glass pictured below. It came out of a big green barrel and was very tasty.



After returning to Mr Martin’s in the late afternoon, I walked down the street to Bait al Mandi, a Yemeni restaurant. It was my first time having Yemeni food, and won’t be my last. I had lamb mandi with pita and rice. Mandi is meat that is cooked on charcoal in a tandoor, a type of oven traditionally dug into the ground and sealed so that smoke does not escape. I don’t think it was cooked in the ground at the restaurant, but the meat was smoky and delicious. The servings were generous and so of course I fell in love with the place.  With a full belly I returned to get enough sleep before an early flight to Bahir Dar the next morning.

Lamb mandi

Lamb mandi