T’ena yist’illin! Indamin nash? Dahna nash?
(Hello!, How are you? Are you well?)

“…Radical Ritual…involves major repair of the broken or damaged human psyche or spirit. In such a ritual, the physical body is pushed to extreme in order to create a situation of tension favorable for the removal of unwanted energetic debris and the restoration of a much more acceptable self.” (Somé, Healing Wisdom of Africa, p150)

Entoto is a mountain that has several attractions, including the St. Mary Church that Menelik was a member of, his palace and a museum dedicated to him and his wife. Further up the mountain is a rock-hewn church that has a cave underneath it. We haven’t made it there yet. On the other side of the mountain going down past his palace is Entoto’s greatest attraction: the healing springs. As I mentioned before people come from all around the world to receive healing from these springs, and people have emerged from Entoto cured of AIDS and other deadly diseases. After being healed many Muslims have converted to Ethiopian Orthodox Christianity. This place is run by priests. It is free of charge to go to the healing springs. Compared to the healing springs, Menelik’s palace and museum are not nearly as exciting, so I’ll skip our first trip.

We were supposed to get there at 12:30 am Ethiopian time, that’s 6:30 am EST. As were climbing the mountain (in a vehicle, you would not seriously walk up the mountain, I mean you could but it would be very difficult.) at 8:00 am that morning (you know Black folks) we admired the view of Addis Ababa - breathtaking is not the word. We saw women going down the mountain with very large bundles of eucalyptus branches on their backs. So heavy were the bundles that most women’s backs were bent at a 60 degree angle from upright. Your typical bundle is 2.5-3 ft in diameter and 12 ft long. They were perpendicular to the women, most of it hanging on either side of their tiny backs. The eucalyptus trees on Entoto mountain are very tall and beautiful. We finally reached its summit and parked where we did the previous day, in front of St. Mary’s church. Our plan was to go the rock-hewn church after getting our little sprinkling in the springs, so I decided after some deliberation, to bring my camera to avoid having to go back to the vehicle to get my camera. We gathered our plastic bottles in which we would store the special water, actually I’ve been asked not to call it water, because it is not. It is tsabl. Ok, so we gathered our plastic bottles in which we would store the tsabl to take back home. I wrapped my nutella around myself concealing my purse and the camera dangling around my neck. Down the rocks we went, turning the first corner, there were several people were going down the mountain as well. We ended up walking with a group of 3 ethiopian men who were familiar with the do’s and don’ts of Entoto healing as the first thing they said to my hosts was that women are supposed to wear a ca’mise to go to the springs. After some exchange they relented and said it probably wouldn’t be a problem. One, after glancing at my hair, took the opportunity to talk about Jamaicans and how many Jamaicans and others come to Entoto’s healing springs.

After about a mile down the mountain I began to wonder where exactly these springs were. the day before someone had told us that it was just behind the palace but this was getting ridiculous. As we went further down though the place began to really look magical. I don’t know if was the time of day or what. But we were now in Entoto forest and the greenery looked really really green. The sunlight danced off of the leaves in such a way that made the place look so beautiful it looked unreal. Seriously. You know Myst or Riven or Myst III? It looked like one of those computer animation virtual places. The colors and light were so perfect, at any moment I expected a little elf or something to come out and talk to us. The birds were chatting animatedly amongst themselves, and the dirt was red, like what we have in Jamaica and moist. When I was small i had a tape of African fairytales that I think I borrowed and didn’t return to Dudley library in Boston. One of the stories was the Moss Green princess. The narrator this bright green moss monster whose skin a princess had to live in. anyway, the author must have been inspired by the bright green moss growing on the rocks on Entoto mountain. we crossed over a little wooden bridge underneath which ran a small stream and began to hear voices.
Loud voices.
Loud screaming voices.
The people who accompanied us told us not to be frightened, it would be fine. Ok. Someone on the side of the mountain was selling little religion books and had a large bundle of necklaces each consisting of a thin black string and a wooden cross. Some crosses were light brown, some were dark brown, some looked like a T and some were fatter and more ornate. “You must have on one of these or else they won’t let you in.”
Are you serious?
“Yes.”
We each bought one for 1 Birr each, I took the darkest one that looked most like an ankh, attached it around my neck and kept moving. Hey, do what you gotta do.
Moving closer to the voices we began to see people sitting down on the rocks close to tour destination. One more stop though. People were kissing and kneeling at a large stone cross as the last turn before our destination. I skipped that part, but at this point we were required to take off our shoes and make the rest of the sojourn barefooted. After getting used to the rocks, there was no grass at this point only a large variety of rocks on which to walk on, it wasn’t so bad. We finally reached the loudest point of the screams and our destination. There were signs in Amharic. The gatekeeper, the man at the front of another longer bridge commented on the ca’miseless hosts. He then rearranged one of my hosts nutellas to fashion a skirt around her waist. Then he checked to make sure that we were non-smokers. Smokers are not permitted to Entoto’s springs. Everybody checked out and we were permitted to cross the bridge. We left our shoes on the other side and left our containers as well. After crossing the bridge there is a little hut where people are required to sign their names in a book. There were lots of people all around now. In front of a little hut was a man burning what smelled like frankincense. The screams as you can imagine were very loud now and coming from an enclosure. I fell a little behind my hosts as I tried to take in everything around me. There were people who were cold and shivering and were putting on their clothes. By the time I had reached the door there was hold up with my hosts. Huh? What’s the problem?

“We have to take off ALL of our clothes?!!!,” one of my hosts said.
It was very dimly lit inside the place, there was singing on one side, occasional shouts on another side and there were LOTS of people, all over. Men and women.

“Is it really necessary to take off ALL of our clothes?”
“Yes, ALL clothes out”