A Vishu vignette

Just like a magician, the day starts with blindfolding you, and later unfolds a majestic sight of everything darling to you.

(This article was originally published in the April special issue of the Vismayam Magical News, monthly organ of the Asia's first Magic Academy, Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala, India.)

Early on a cold morning you are awakened by loving elderly hands. Hesitantly you wake up but to see nothing. Your eyes are covered by cupped palms of your beloved one – that can be your parent or grandparent; or even your elder sibling. From the bed, with your eyes still covered by those loving hands, you are safely and slowly led through a perfect dark. You then reach a corner of your house where your eyes are thrown open into an awesome sight. Glittering traditional lamp glows well with multiple flames fluttering at you. Your favourite deity’s photo bears a graceful smile. Golden spangles seem to cascade from the opulent bunches of ‘Kanikonna’ flowers. Coins, clothes, fruits, vegetables and what not! There is even a mirror kept among these, to see your own face… Garlands everywhere and fragrance in the air – it’s Vishu. Just like a magician, the day starts with blindfolding you, and later unfolds a majestic sight of everything darling to you.

On Vishu day, you cannot dart into and make a regular bath. Before taking bath you should smear oil well on your scalp. After bath, of course, you are going to be clad in new dresses. Then with all reverence you approach the eldest member of the family, bow respectfully and stretch your right hand. The eldest person then blesses you, places coins and currencies on your palm and graciously pats you in expression of abundant affection. As a child to whom managing with money is untold, your eyes twinkle. Coins and currencies pour in from every elder member of the family and in a few minutes your pockets bulge and you become rich.

Now you have every right to use your money as you wish. You can buy chocolates or comics; ice-cream or popcorn. During my tenure at the Magic Academy, I could see many children buying magic kits, magic toys and magic books with their Vishu collection. Some of them later got that magic bug’s bite and became disciples at the Academy.

For my Assamese friends, Dr. Rajeeb and Deepsikha, Vishu is ‘Bihu’. If Keralites have one Vishu a year, they have three Bihus – in October, January and April. Of the three, the principal one, marking the Assamese New Year, coincides with Kerala’s Vishu. What is common is that in both states, the festival has strong connections with farming. In Kerala, the best farm products are offered to the deity, where as in Assam, lands are prepared for another farming season. In one way or the other, the day is auspicious also for many other states including Bengal, Punjab, Karnataka, Manipur and Tamil Nadu. How magical our Nation is!

Akhila and I have already got a Bihu invitation from our Assamese friends. Festivals are enticing threads tied to each human heart. Wherever on this world, hearts float like kites over the clouds of excitement, tugged by the threads of nostalgia. Festival memories prompt me to remain a child, a child for ever. This is a wonder world!

-K.P. Sivakumar

Books's Face 1: A Phoenix's call at unwanted children

Chinese Cinderella

Childhood recollections by: Adeline Yen Mah

Publisher: Pearson Education Ltd.

First published: 1999

First educational edition: 2002

Source: Library, Ambo University, Ethiopia

Courtesy: Ms. Deepsikha Saikia, who lent me the book and patiently waited for long before I return.

17^th century Cinderella is an Italian. We change this notion while reading Adeline Yen Mah’s ‘Chinese Cinderella’ - a book that is not only an account of her childhood miseries, but also a handbook on Chinese history, language and literature. Mah’s self portrayal of her childhood agonies and stiff sessions of seclusion are heart rendering. Rightly, she has dedicated the 1999-published book to ‘all unwanted children’.

Adeline turns a Chinese Cinderella once her father makes a second marriage and the couple begins making an unfair distinction between the previous children and their own children. Soon after giving birth to Adeline, her mother died. Father remarries. In her life she couldn’t even see a photograph of her real mother. Consequently the little child falls prey to a superstition. The child was believed to have bad blood that must bring only ill fate to the family. This brought huge extortions and pain in the life of a budding girl. Between 1941 and 1951, i.e. from the age of 4 to 14, she had more abominable things to recollect than adorable ones.

Constantly loving Aunt Baba, gracious grandmother, Nai Nai and generous grandfather Ye Ye were shades of solace. Instead, stepmother Niang and Father only sowed seeds of pain in the tender heart. Her siblings were but miserably influenced by the malice spread by the parents.

Success, achievements and celebrations are untold for a Cinderella, testifies Adeline’s life. Love, care and consideration are exclusive rights of children, except of Adeline’s sort. Scarce privileges and salubrious life experiences are only a mirage for children like Adeline whom parents consider unwanted.

Cities of Tianjin, Shanghai, and Hong Kong have contrast differences. But all these cities gave single bitter experience for Adeline: secluded boarding life, pitifully uncared by any elder from home. No letter, no egg, no special food, and no visitor – she had nothing to expect from home. School for Adeline was thus a lone asylum of dreams and pleasures – created by her and enjoyed by her.  During vacations, while she used to be the only girl unclaimed by parents, empty dormitory beds looked like scary rows of tombs. Still, instead of getting stuck by the dismay, the little girl spends her lonely hours in libraries simply to be engulfed by King Lear-kind of Shakespeare or Sara Crewe-kind of Frances Hodgson Burnett.

Prior to a play-writing competition when a disinterested Adeline told “I’m afraid of losing”, Mother Louis suggested, “Anyone who enters has a chance. However, if you don’t enter, then you certainly have destroyed your chance before you even begin”. When she was dejected for not hearing for over six months from the play-writing competition board, Mother Louisa tells her: “Be patient. No news is good news. As long as you don’t hear, you can keep on hoping […]”. As a child, Adeline had exceptional ability to identify and imbibe from the elixir contained in such elderly words.  She was blessed with a trait to understand the ‘talisman power’ of such words. That must be the secret virtue that made her emerge as the country’s first winner in an international English play-writing competition at the age of 14 and later anchor herself on the victory stands of life. This single aspect can alone motivate readers regardless of age and sex.

While concluding her own Cinderella-like experiences, she compares herself with a Chinese Cinderella named Ye Xian whose legendary story was prevalent during Tang Dynasty of 7^th and 8^th centuries. Ye Xian was loathed by her stepmother, but later emerged a shining star fighting life with sheer determination, hard work and optimism. Through her book Adeline introduces the same genre of phoenix inherent in her. The Adeline Phoenix should certainly kindle a flame of determination among all unwanted children in this modern world.

Adeline has made an admirable selection from the piles of her childhood reminiscences. She could arrange those memory blocks with a cherubic care to make an impressive ‘Chinese Cinderella’. While turning page after page, readers receive an irrefutable soft touch of a petite innocent girl. Line after line, she tweets charmingly the tale of a girl child who was nobody, but later becomes somebody – story of a girl spinning herself a life of dignity and delight against rudely abrasive abashments.

As readers finish reading ‘Chinese Cinderella’, they are gifted with a treasure trove of optimism. A clear insight upon the China of 1940s and 1950s, the wars won and lost and captivating aspects of Chinese calligraphy are just a bonus.

- K.P. Sivakumar

New Delhi and After

(This article was published in The Ethiopian Herald on 10th of Feb 2013, with title, 'The Shock of New Delhi')

Is there a shore of solutions?  A picture gratefully adopted from http://www.rnw.nl/english/article/india%E2%80%99s-rape-victims-face-degrading-examinations

Appalled and a bit disillusioned on the New Delhi gang rape issue and consequent death of the victim, many of my Ethiopian friends approached me to know more on it. During a single trip to Addis Ababa from Ambo, I had to answer thrice, ‘Yes, it’s a shame on us…’ to co-passengers. All of them bore the curiosity to know how such brutality could occur in a country that is well known for an ancient culture that upholds shining ideals of harmony.

For me it was not easy to shape a convincing comment on the causes and consequences of the inhuman act that has blemished our prestige.  Some heinous acts are like that – we will be unable to ponder over it further. They send strong impulses that stall one’s thought processes.

If I was able to ponder further on the devil’s act, it was only because of an irrefutable call by sociology, a subject that I love. While placing the New Delhi incident under the microscope of social sciences, exposed were some of the harmful germs of the modernity. Heaving a sigh of relief, I estimated – it must be the fault of the current pattern of development sweeping across the world. Hence what happened in my country is a wakeup call to others. Media deserve kudos for bringing the issue for a serious debate. It was a show of the country’s solidarity to the family of the deceased when our Prime Minister along with his party’s head was present to receive the body at the airport.  To the latest, it is almost decided by the upper echelons of legal affairs that a rapist in India can get nothing less than death penalty.

Social thinkers during all times have tried to uncover reasons behind the attacks on women. Alienation from normal social life and dehumanisation of labour for Karl Marx was a reason that led male workers into a state of frustration. To Marx, when this frustration mounts, males vent their anguish over their female counterparts, leading to sheer atrocities on women.

Almost all planners these days know that development is meaningless unless it is centred on human beings. Still, long winding is the list of neglects during developmental planning. Gender is one such smouldering issue that is conveniently covered under the heaping ashes of neglect. World over, feminist scholars continue lamenting on the multiple roles played by women getting not enough attention. Motherhood and child rearing; domestic production works; and community activities undertaken by the women of the third world nations are frequently found to receive insufficient consideration.  

The modernisation could gain only mixed benefits for women all over the world. On one side globalisation and modernisation have offered more job opportunities for females. The other side of the coin bears some uncomfortable truths. Studies are not scarce to prove that majority of women are clustered on unorganised job sectors with least job security and privileges. Modern day employers become fans of women employees mainly because the latter can be easily negotiated for cheaper wages and terminated anytime at the former’s convenience. The new age jobs have not only provided them insecure job opportunities, but also plucked away the economic agency they could enjoy previously in the traditional systems. Women in the modern world are also exposed to a new range of physical and mental agonies.

Worth remembering is social scientist Immanuel Wallerstein, who observed that ‘no emperor on this earth could continue conquering the world in such an extent as the capitalism could.’ It seems a perfect truth. Capitalism, for over five hundred years has been on a success trail. Country after country surrenders on its feet to marry different breeds of liberalism.

Ongoing neoliberal, capitalist systems are noted for the burgeoning consumerist societies, where woman is tacitly made a commodity. Beauty of woman is essential for promoting flooding consumer goods. Commercial displays among print and electronic media project woman as a medium for attracting consumers to diverse goods and services of new-era producers.

Cultural identity

Cultural identity crisis felt among nations is also a result of modernity. Cultural penetration, a phenomenon caused by globalisation can slowly allow some cultures – mainly that of developed countries – to invade into the social fabrics of other countries – mainly developing ones. In this process, indigenous cultures get abandoned and replaced by invasive cultures. Cultural identity crisis can easily bring youngsters into a hazy juncture where they fail to discriminate between good and evil in a local context. When locally significant value norms are eclipsed, there spreads a dark where only screams and yells reverberate.   

There is a ladder view of social change proposed by social scientists. During their transition from agrarian to industrial stage, each society occupies different levels in the ladder of progress. Question here is how much strongly safeguarded would be their bondage with native value norms, tradition and culture at different levels of this ladder.

Dr. Akhila S. Nair, Asst. Professor in Environmental Sciences with the Ambo University opined that today the world is supposed to be driven by the motto, sustainable development. But to her, sustainable development seems a mirage. Dire truth is incessant degradation of the environment that places a heavy load of extra burden over village women. Deepsikha Saikia, Lecturer in Management observed that usually girls were subjected to more advices and life-guidance than boys. “During socialization of children, more egalitarian approach is needed. But who, when and how such a practice begins is still indefinite…”, she said considering the Indian scenario.

Decency should be a dictum that applies over girls and boys equally. More concern over girl children and imposing more norms of virtues over females is unjustified. In this era of non-stop capitalism and liberalism, such unequal approach would be disastrous for women.

- K.P. Sivakumar

Wondrous Wenchi

Travel experience of visiting noted African crater lake, Wenchi, 35km off Ambo, Ethiopia.

Wenchi crater lake - a distant view. 

When in Ethiopia you are on the bosom of Abyssinia – part of the world that bears the glory of giving birth to first human race. It was from here nomads scattered to different locations reaching even to the farthest of the south east Asia. This, of course is a fact that ratifies the resemblance seen between south Indians and Ethiopians.  What you will not see among south Indians is the atypical African curly hair Ethiopians have. Having stayed for nearly a year in Ambo, an Ethiopian highland town with village ambience, it was our ardent desire to explore the natural splendours of this engrossingly ethnic African country.

Entourage: (From left) Dr. Akhila S. Nair, Dr. Salma Zuberi with baby Ruben, Astrid van Agthovan and Amel; Dr. Masud Ilahi, Prof. M.I. Zuberi and author. 

In Ethiopia to decide upon a tourism destination is always puzzling. There are plenty of places that a curious visitor can endeavour upon. If the Blue Nile and Lake Tana beckon you from the north, you get an irrefutable call from the sprawling Bale Mountains in almost the middle of the country. Bale mountain ranges carry yet to be unravelled relation between Himalayas especially in its formation and opulent fossil reminiscent. When you leave the Capital City, Addis Ababa – considered as the world’s third highest Capital from the sea level – towards the west, you reach our town Ambo, at a distance of 120km. The road connecting Addis Ababa and Ambo is an asphalted spiralling one, but without any potholes or bumps. Thanks to the Chinese whose graciousness it is.

Author with driver Abera (left) and Teklu (centre).

You will definitely enjoy a ride from Addis Ababa to Ambo, a two-hour-long one that unveils before you the undulating topography. Nothing obstructs you from seeing unto the horizon. The well-built road unrolls like a black ribbon – looking tapered from far and widening as you approach. On both sides of the road you find traditionally built houses with roofs thatched with grass. The walls of the houses are mostly made of soil paste filling the gaps of wooden logs. This structure, according to natives have long endurance.

The highland climate of Ambo has a characteristic scorching heat outside but salubriously colder inside. Even under a small patch of tree shade you enjoy the cold of breeze, but beyond there, you will find bearing the intensity of sunlight very difficult.   

Ambo fame

Ambo is famous for three things: quality of the natural mineral water, natural hot springs and Wenchi, the crater lake just 30km away. Our fantasy for Ambo mineral water was already satisfied with litres of it we have consumed. Ambo mineral water is noted for its international quality, popularity and export. The manufacturing unit is just 10km away from our residence. And the hot springs – it is on the banks of Huluka River that is the town’s shining necklace. These hot springs had even fascinated the Kings of Ethiopia who used to frequent the town for enjoying a celestial bathing experience. Now the portion of the hot springs is controlled by a privately owned Ambo Ethiopia Hotel, who has appropriately named the area as ‘Paradise Park’. Having experienced mineral water and hot springs, only thing left before us was the magnificent volcanic lake, Wenchi.

Climb up this hill to have a first and distant view of Wenchi.

We shared our Wenchi dream with Prof. M.I. Zuberi, who is a Bangladeshi professor of Environmental Sciences with the Ambo University. He was so excited and started offering more tempting facts on the lake. The mounting enthusiasm was then transferred among the professor’s wife, Dr. Salma Zuberi, a plant scientist; his younger brother, Dr. Masud Elahi, a hydrologist and his Dutch wife, Astrid van Agthoven, who is station manager of UNICEF in Tanzania.

Thus formed was an ambitious team to visit the crater lake. But before setting out for the expedition, we had to wait till Christmas season for Dr. Elahi and Astrid to join us. We were in fact anxious about their 4-yearl-old girl Amel Elahi and 5-month-old baby boy, Ruben. How will the toddler and her baby brother face the trials and tribulations of a trekking through a challenging environment? But the couple were firm and confident. Let the buds start learning life very early, was their theory.

Amel and Ruben: Tender footprints on the banks of a big lake...

So the team is ready. Now who will guide? Our enquiry ended at Teklu – a young, newly joined instructor with the Biology Department of the Ambo University. Taklu had his PG from Addis Ababa University and had his dissertation in biodiversity under the guidance of an Indian professor, M. Balakrishnan. The youngster was really possessed with a mind inclined to investigating more on the biological diversities. Taklu managed to get Abara, a young driver with an omnibus for our journey. My wife, Dr. Akhila S. Nair and Prof. M.I. Zuberi got their leave granted from the university.

Tuesday trip

It was a fine Tuesday. At 7.45am we reached Hotel Keeberoon opposite to the University to pick Dr. Elahi, Astrid and their children. In the previous night, like all other hotels around, this hotel too had the upbeat pomp of a pub – drinking, meeting, eating, dancing… In the morning it is a quiet, decent place with well set seating arrangements. Gentlemen with overcoats are seen seated comfortably and enjoying ‘daboo’ (bread), ‘Injera’ (thin circular staple food made of locally opulent ‘teff’ flour. Injera for Ethiopians is like ‘Dosa’ or ‘Chapati’ for Indians). “We had bread, scrambled egg and Amel took two boiled eggs”, Dr. Elahi said. He had a bag containing bottled water, bread and banana fruits. Yes. We should carry enough water and food while going to Wenchi. Visitors to the lake have to walk for two long hours downward to reach the shore and another two hours upward to reach back the upper station. Vehicles are not permitted, but one can hire a horseback – but no horse cart, please.


Driver Abara and Taklu positioned on the front seats. We were also seated at our convenience. The Omnibus had 13 seats with double seats on one side, single seats on the other and folding single seats through its aisle. A jerk and the vehicle started moving.  A brief stop at the fruit shop – it’s for procuring some bananas for Abara. When everyone goes for trekking, he has to sit alone in the vehicle for hours together.  “What did you buy?” I asked and Taklu said “One kg of development”. “Development?” “Yes, in our language ‘bedana’ means development. Banana and bedana sounds similar” Taklu laughed. Everyone laughed at the fun behind the homophonous words. The vehicle passed Ambo Micro Business College and turned right to take a road opposite to the telecommunication office. Our monthly travels to Addis Ababa and back has been through the straight road. But now a different turn. New experiences begin here.


(Below) Gravel road to Wenchi.

Even though there was tarmac, the surface was not as smooth as the one leading to Addis Ababa. We felt shaking. Two kilometres passed and there was a gathering of people. It was a ‘gaba’ (country market). One more kilometre, and the tarmac ended. Ahead of us was a dusty, gravelled road with rolling pieces of stones. When vehicles pass, there is a cloud of dust and triggering of stones in all directions by the wheels.

We were experiencing truly village ambiences. Children waved their hands from their huts. Some huts were too dilapidated. Some were as if abandoned. “No. there are farmers residing. They might have gone for farming”, Taklu’s comment was in true ratification of the pastoralism prevalent in Ethiopia. Along the road, some equestrians showed their skill by riding their horses faster. Some trailed behind our vehicle.

Love at first sight

Farmer turned tour guide, Wolesso pointed to Wenchi, giving our eyes the first majestic sight.

Abara stopped the vehicle. On the left there is a steep hill and on the right, a deep gorge. “This is ‘gaara’. Climb up and watch Wenchi lake from distance” Abara asked us. “Gaara?” I could not get the Oromo word. “Gaara means hill. Visitors to Wenchi lake climb up this hill and get their first view of the whole lake from the distance. Let us go”, Taklu made it clear. Some of us were a bit confused as to what should be done first – climbing the hill or taking a snap with magnificent valley as background? “No. we will take photos from down latter. First we climb up”, Taklu insisted. When we started walking upward, a local person joined us and started voluntary help. “This is good way”, “Don’t go there” he started guiding us. “Maqaa ke enyu?”, one from my feeble stock of Oromo language to get the stranger’s name. “Wolesso”, he answered. Then my question on his age: “Umri?” Answer: “soddoma” (thirty).  Wolesso was a local ‘kothabula’ (farmer) turned tourist guide. His behaviour and body languages were impressive. He became our friend quickly. He plucked bunches of leaves from a bushy plant that were growing lavishly in the hill and gifted to us. Its aroma was refreshing and rejuvenating. Gents reached the top first and ladies a couple of minutes later. At the peak, Wolesso pointed to a distant place. Wow!! There is Wenchi lake in all her beauty. She shined like a blue pearl encircled by a black and greyish ridge. The sight was amazing. That was our first visual experience of a crater lake. “Magnificent” “Wow! Beautiful” “Marvellous”, commented each one of us. We were searching for the best word to describe the fascinating scene. Our cameras blinked their eyes to catch the images of the beautiful lake.  We descended. Down near the vehicle, Walesso, his wife, Birkkee; three girl children, Radio Direbe, Bashannano, Kabbanese waved hands to us. The farmer-family’s baby boy, 6-month-old Gammada threw a hidden smile for us.

Beauty of the hilltop from where we first saw the beauty of the volcanic lake.

Eco-tourism

Children who gathered in front of the WETA office. 

After two hours of travel through golden yellow farms of barley and teff; and the violet of potato flowers, our vehicle came to a stop near the sign board of Wenchi Eco-Tourism Association (WETA).  Local children encircled us with flowers – fresh and dried ones. Their mission was to sell them to us and get one or two Birr (currency of Ethiopia). Some children needed our pen. Their innocent faces were dotted with dust and flow from the nose.  We felt pity of them. But the officials of the WETA requested us not to encourage them. “Because if you give, their parents will not allow them to go for education anymore”, was the rationale one of the guides had.

WETA is an admirable initiative with people’s participation. Its office had a traditional ambience. It was on the right side of the road on an elevated place. The office was built of soil and wooden logs. There were wooden doors and windows. The roof was thatched with metal sheets – one of the common sights in Ethiopia. On the rear side there was a local type of latrine. It was nothing more than a pit covered with pieces of wood with a hole in the centre. Pieces of plastic sheets on four sides hardly covered the place. But in the native scenario, this is nothing unusual.

We met four young official guides there – Dawit, Fayera, Kebede and Ayale. All of them were nicely behaving and had the readiness to serve the visitors. Their limited competency in English language, was but enough to satisfy curious inquirers.  WETA office works throughout a week. A handwritten poster vividly showed the rate of inflow of tourists, countrywide visitors, and the income generated. The approach of the WETA was enough to give us an impression that things are rather transparent.

Taklu and Prof. Zuberi had serious deliberations with Fayera, the WETA official on the trekking, boating and things of interest with Wenchi.  We hired one horse for the toddler girl Amel to use. Then a to and fro boating for visiting an island was also reserved. All payments had to be made with the WETA office. 19-year-old Kebede joined us as an official WETA guide. Our vehicle could move only one more kilometre from there. From there onwards no more permission for automotives. On the right side of the vehicle stop point, was beautifully built cafeteria of Ambo Abebech hotel. It is a place for the travellers to sit and relax. Earlier there were a dozen of traditional huts for the overnight stay of the visitors. They are almost abandoned now. On the left we had our second sight of Wenchi lake. Now she is a bit closer. Awe inspired by the sight, we started trekking.

Trekking experience

Amel and Dr. Salma Zuberi seated on the horses named Magal and Buzu; and others walking. Payment for the extra horse should be paid to the official guide. Baby boy Ruben found a comfortable seat on a baby-carriage mounted on the back of his father, Dr. Elahi. The dusty pathway was full of rubbles and loose soil. Till the lake, it is almost a downward trail. Literally there was no chance for a trekker to be absentminded or careless. Cost of absentmindedness, as I had experienced once, was a free fall and then a slide down a few feet forward! I expected breaking of my back, but I was bit lucky. Thanks to a couple of feet thick bed of fine dust! I got my specs immersed in the dust.

As you walk down, majestic sceneries unveil before you. During entire span of your trekking you find steep mountain on one side and deep valley on the other. Mountains and valleys are covered with flora of diverse colours and varieties. In the valleys you find barley cultivation. Ethnic vegetations, like Hyginia abyssinica a tree covered with green leaves and red flowers, give you a refreshing break under their shade. “Essence of this tree, seen only in Ethiopia, is used for curing intestinal problems. Hence the name, Hyginia abyssinica”, Taklu explained. ‘Colobo’ monkeys with black and white hair gestured at us. I glanced only once at them. Who wants to look at monkeys and fall down?

At many places mountain surfaces are exposed – a clear evidence for soil erosion. “Erosion takes place even due to wind because of the loose and dry nature of the soil” Dr. Akhila commented. Pointing to the rings of layers found on the exposed mountain parts, Prof. Zuberi said, “See this is a layer of clay, this is a layer of pebbles. White patches indicate calcium”. According to his observation, all these mountains were once submerged under water. “Layers of this kind could be formed only due to sedimentation under water”, he says. 

Two-hour-long trekking accompanied by an Environmental Sciences professor and hydrologist was thoroughly enlightening.  After each stunning sight they would comment something that would inspire your thoughts. Thousands of years back a huge volcanic eruption occurred. Hot lava flowed for a long time. Whole place and its surroundings were boiling! Once everything was cooled down things started settling down. Lava created rocks. Mouth of the volcano turned into a ridge with rainwater collecting inside. No way to run out, the water has been staying there stagnant. The quantity of water and the frequency of replenishment by rain are very large so that the usual problems with stagnant water are not applicable for crater lakes. Magnificent truths – I thought.

On the way, we found four tourists from China. They were so delighted to know that we were from India and Bangladesh. “China and India are friends”, shrugging, one of them said. During our downward trekking, wherever we got a chance, we competed each other to get the best snaps of the lake. After two hours, we were on the shore of the majestic lake. There were not more than a dozen of tourists and a couple of boats on the shore.  The shore was also spotted by a lone building. When you look from outside, inside of the building is perfect dark. I went inside and saw some people sitting on wooden chairs and chatting. Grass leaves were scattered all over its floor to form traditional carpet – an indication that something auspicious a meeting it was. It was a meeting of the local boat owners, our guide Kebede said.

Sailing on celestial waters

Now, time for boating. There were two small open boats near the shore. One was with wooden body and metal covering inside. The other was smaller fibre boat with two oarsmen. We were led to the smaller one. “What is the seating capacity?” I asked. “Six” replied one of the oarsmen. We are already eight including official guide and it is 10 if we count oarsmen also. Amel and baby Ruben are extra. This arithmetic was enough to switch on my water phobia. As the boats moved, it was celestial a beauty unfurling for us. What a beautiful world the almighty has created! We never blinked our eyes, but kept our camera lenses blinking and blinking.  At the middle of the lake, one of the oarsman, Asfa Meconin shared his acquired knowledge: “Here the lake is 75 metres deep”. Everyone was thrilled at the fact. To me it was an inconvenient truth.  After a few minutes we reached the island.

Nestled on the bosom of a pristine crater lake 3380 meters above the sea level, the island was so tranquil. There was a trail through the woods. It ended at a Christian monastery. The church was closed. “This church opens only if devotees come”, Taklu said. Nobody stays there – even not the priests. The island is owned only by birds and trees. Here silence is the hallmark and peace of mind is a gift for every visitor. We sat down on the grass-covered terrain, against the lake. Birds started singing songs to entertain us. Every one of us felt so tired and wanted to eat something sitting on this heavenly piece of land. Oarsmen Asfa and Abeta joined us. “If you want we are ready to boat you a full circle around this island”, Abeta put forward an idea. Everyone endorsed it, even me. But Astrid wanted to sit lonely and feed baby Ruben. “Is it safe for her to sit here alone?” Taklu asked the oarsmen. “Definitely, there is no problem for her. She will be safe”, WETA guide Kebede assured.

We had one full round sailing of the island. It was even more beautiful and captivating. Submerged plants played hide and seek around our vessel. Water sparkled like jade. “Deep colour of the water shows that the lake is too deep”, observed Dr. Elahi The ridge around us stood aloft with all its grandeur and multiplicities of colours.  After a round we joined back Astrid and Ruben on the island. Astrid was sitting on an old log of wood and on her lap was a sweet smiling Ruben. Which baby on this earth dislikes scintillating beauty of nature!

Time for go back. There was a fern-covered old tomb. Mounted on it was a black and white image of the deceased throwing a frozen but friendly smile to us. Rest in peace! We got into the boat – this time the wooden one. There was a new traveller. He wanted to take a photo of him sailing the boat. When he attempted to get the oar, the boat tilted a bit.  Island of monastery went far and far away. Approaching was the shore showing us the way back. During return trip Akhila also needed a horse. Three ladies on three horses and we followed. “Cow girls!” someone commented. Hiking was still more difficult. We took intermittent rest, drank plenty of water. Reached back the vehicle stop point. Had one more view of the Wenchi lake. At 3.45pm she was more bluish. The entire blue sky was reflecting over her body. She is beckoning.

- K.P. Sivakumar