It was in Axum, on August 29, 2019, that Mike bought the treasure of the trip--a huge, silver Ethiopian cross. He placed it in a frame backed in navy blue suede and hung it on the wall of his Salt Lake City home, a priceless momento of a priceless experience.
We wonder, on this trip, how each new day can match the
pleasures of the last—and then it’s even better. Bayau told us about the history of the Axum
stelae, including one that had remained upright since its erection in 300 A.D.,
another that had been taken to Rome in pieces by the Italians in WWII and retrieved,
hooked together, in 2005, and a third that lay broken in enormous chunks along
the ground. After we examined the
stelae, we followed Bayau into the underground tombs of Axumite nobles,
fashioned from blocks of granite exquisitely fitted without mortar.
When we emerged from underground, we heard horns and saw a
huge assemblage of white-robed people in the square before us. A large Ethiopian orthodox church was in the
background. Bayau told
us that this was the funeral of a high-ranking church official. We watched, with Mike’s and Camille’s cameras
clicking, as the casket was rolled through the square, covered with a
gold-colored carpet and followed by mourners carrying bright umbrellas fringed
with gold. The funeral cortege made its
way up the hill towards the cemetery. The horn player then gave us a solo, as did a
very old man playing the lyre.

As we traveled around Axum today, and even to outlying areas, we began to see girls dressed up, with their hair elaborately arranged. Bayau explained that today is the festival celebrating the Assumption of Mary, during which girls and young women dress up and dance and sing in the streets.
At Yeha, we gathered into a tiny room where a priest showed us religious books in Gez, dating from more than 1000 years ago. Throughout Ethiopia, priests keep ancient religious treasures in the churches and monasteries. They are willing to show and explain them to visitors.
As I reviewed Mike's and Camille's beautiful portraits of children and older people, I was reminded of the beautiful photographs my father took of just such subjects. How he would enjoy seeing his grandchildren carry on with his interests and talents!
The city of Axum was filling with girls dressed in their finest by the time we returned, and more and more people poured into the central piazza as the evening wore on. “This is a girl’s day,” Biyou said, as small groups of young and older girls rushed up to us and began to sing, dance, and beat drums. As each group finished their songs, Mike and Camille handed them a 100 bir note, worth 25 cents. Each collection of girls included one treasurer with a purse. The girls were dressed in long, white dresses with embroidered hems. Their dark hair was intricately braided, with the curly hair on the back of the head brushed into large “poofs.” “You and I could never make our hair do that,” I sighed to Camille. The first group of girls reminded me of Mia—about 10 years old, half scared, half thrilled to be exploring the wide world on their own.
What are they watching with such interest?
Maybe this guy.
Many boys celebrated by wearing traditional dress-up clothes, as did their sisters.




























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