January
1927
I was promised the papers within a short time and indeed after a few days they were delivered into my hands. … In this important document with the national emblem in the form of a lion, the Russian traveller was called a guest of Ethiopia and all local rulers were ordered to render him full assistance, to provide him with ammunition and provisions and to allow him to cross their borders without any obstructions.
The attentions of the French envoy when presenting me to the government of Ethiopia and his personal visit to my hotel, had inspired similar attentions of other diplomatic representatives. I received an invitation to dine with the Japanese envoy, who was preparing to open Japanese stores in Addis Ababa. In his time he had been a consul to Vladivostok and therefore he considered it a necessary politeness to make the acquaintance of the representative of the country to which he had been accredited. The Greek envoy, too, wished to see me. I myself wanted to meet the English envoy, since I was interested in entering Sudan and going from there to Egypt. However, in spite of the fact that this envoy turned out to be a former student at the University of Cambridge, where I, too, had gone to study for more than a year, we did not speak a common language.
January
1927
I presented the government with an agricultural map of the USSR, just published by the Institute of Plant Industry, and gave a short review of the problems concerning the expedition and about the agricultural management of my country. I also presented a copy of my new book, Centres of Origin of the Cultivated Plants, in English. The regent nodded his head and stated that the wheat in Abyssinia was wretched and that American wheat was much better. He walked into his apartment and brought back a large parcel of maize! “Look at this wheat,” the regent said, “we have nothing like that here!” Nevertheless, I was given permission to continue the expedition.
It was necessary to wait for the official papers. After some days passed by. A messenger from Ras Tafari arrived at the French hotel, where my caravan was being equipped, with an invitation to pay a visit to the ruler of the country in the evening. It was just the two of us. Ras Tafari had mastered the French language fairly well and it was possible to converse together without an interpreter. He questioned me with great interest about my country. He was especially interested in the revolution and the fate of the imperial court. I told him briefly all that was known about it. It was difficult to imagine a more attentive listener. The ruler of Ethiopia listened to the short account about my country and the events which had taken place within it just as to a fascinating fairy tale.
January
1927
After completing the expedition around Harer I returned to Dire Dawa and went from there by train to Addis Ababa. The wonderful expedition around Harer was considered somewhat venturesome. It turned out that to travel around in the country it was necessary to have an official paper from the government, which could be obtained only if it had the seal of the regent, the government or the empress, Zaudith. [] My ‘good fairy,’ Madame de Vilmorin, had done her work for me here as well. According to custom, one of the ministers must introduce a visitor from abroad to the government of Ethiopia. The French envoy, who had received a letter of recommendation from Madame de Vilmorin, agreed to introduce me to Ras Tafari, who later, in 1930, became the emperor of Abyssinia. []
The capital, Addis Ababa (‘Spring Flower’) is situated within a dense forest of Australian eucalyptus. In the not so distant past, the Ethiopian capital was moved every hundred years or so; when a forest had been depleted of firewood, the inhabitants were periodically forced to move the capital somewhere else. One of the foreign missions introduced Australian eucalyptus, which happened to be exceptionally fast-growing under the conditions of the Abyssinian climate and quite superior in this respect to the local vegetation of conifers. The clever Emperor Menelik II quickly realized the importance of this valuable tree and now the capital, just like many other cities in Abyssinia, is covered by whole forests of eucalyptus. They are also planted along the roads in northern Abyssinia.
Notes:
January
1927
Harer itself is the centre of the coffee market. Abyssinia is no doubt the native land of the coffee tree (Coffea arabica). Enormous groves of coffee are concentrated in the southern parts of the country. The ripe fruits are zealously collected by the inhabitants and brought to Harer. Considerable plantations of a kind of coffee with very large leaves and very large fruits are concentrated around Harer. The wild coffee surpasses the cultivated one and differs from it with respect to the content of caffeine.
Mine was not the only expedition. The famous Hagenbeck, owner of the well-known zoological garden in Hamburg, [] had sent a whole shipload of expeditions to capture animals in East Africa for his zoological garden and for sale in Europe. Harer was chosen as the base for the expedition of the Hamburg garden. Thousands of birds, many species of monkey and varieties of antelopes were collected by the hunters from Hamburg. The collection of monkeys was especially fine. Hundreds of baboons and monk’s hood marmosets [] in addition to wild geese of different colours, red and green, [] were triumphantly herded into large cages, waiting to be loaded aboard a steamer.
Various groups of people make contact with each other in the district of Harer. Somalians occupy mainly the lowland savannah. The dominance of the Amharan population, the real Abyssinians, starts really at Harer. The Somalians have some Mongolian traits, especially noticeable in the form of slanting eyes, high and wide cheekbones and coarse hair. The Amharans are as a rule of an Aryan or Semitic type with curly hair and dark skin colour. They walk around in white pants, are usually barefoot and wrap themselves in white sheets, which serve both as garments and as covers at night. The Somalians differ sharply from the Amharans in both language and religion. They are as a rule Moslems; the Amharans confess to a peculiar Christian creed [the Coptic], close to the Greek Orthodox one.
Notes:
January
1927
For the first time I saw some of the special endemic plants of Abyssinia, such as the peculiar grain called teff (Eragrostis abyssinica), a particular kind of small millet that produces a first-class flour used for flat-cakes in Abyssinia. This endemic Abyssinian grass was undoubtedly first taken into cultivation in this country.
There was also a new oil-producing plant with black seeds called ramtil or noog (Guizotia abyssinica). There are also special varieties, or perhaps species, of pepper grass (Lepidium sativum) and special, tall-growing safflower (Carthamus tinctorius), as well as a special late-ripening sesame (Sesamum indicum).
Within the lower zone large amounts of sorghum are grown in exceptionally variable forms with respect to both the seeds and the hulls. The wild vegetation consists of thickets of candelabra-shaped euphorbias, often used for making fences. The forested zone is represented by the conifer Juniperus excelsa.
For the geography of cultivated plants these were facts of first-class importance, the full importance of which will be understood only after comparative investigations. The
collections exceeded all expectations. All trouble was justified after the week of travelling around in the region of Harer. The first 50 parcels of 5 kilograms each were shipped off to Leningrad.
December
1926
The characteristic wheat, cultivated in enormous amounts in the Harer region, no doubt belongs to a special kind, different from everything I had seen and collected in other agricultural areas of the world. The fields display an incredible mixture of varieties. It was necessary to collect hundreds of ears to obtain a representation of the botanical composition. I had happened to arrive at the most appropriate time. The crops were still standing, the harvest had just begun. The barley was also represented by great variety, especially among the distichous forms.
Among the wheats I discovered at once endemic types with violet grains, not known anywhere else in the world. The taste of the bread made from this wheat is similar to that of rye bread.
December
1926
The main agricultural area of Abyssinia is situated at an altitude between 1600 and 3000 metres. In regard to climate and vegetation Abyssinia can be divided into three main zones: the ‘voina,’ situated below 1800 metres with an almost tropical climate; the ‘dega,’ the alpine region reaching altitudes of 2400-3000 m; and the ‘dega voina,’ distributed between 1800 and 2400 metres. The train stopped at the station [] of Dire Dawa, [] at a distance of about 50 km from Harer, the first major agricultural centre along my route. Although I had not reached Addis Ababa I decided to stop there and start my investigations. I did not know what was ahead or how I would be received by the government. Here, with the help of travelling acquaintances, it was possible to organize a small caravan and in the course of a few days make a tour of this important area and collect material. It could not possibly have been better.
The Harer region, situated at elevations between 1600 and 2000, gave a clear picture of the complete specificity of the Abyssinian culture. Everything turned out to be totally different here: the composition of the cultivated and wild plants, the agrotechnology and the climate. All agricultural crops turned out to be definitely endemic.
Notes:
27 December
1926
On 27 December 1926, I rode on the train into the interior of Abyssinia. At that time the trains in Abyssinia operated only during daytime. After passing through the Somalian savannah with its sparse acacias, the train approached a mountainous area. Here a steep climb began. The Abyssinian plateau rises above the Somalian savannah like a gigantic castle. The ascent became increasingly steep. Two locomotives were needed to pull a few cars.
Globalization of the Siwan food economy certainly began some time ago, but it appears that the homogenization of Siwan horticulture with that of the rest of the Mediterranean has lagged far behind that of other desert oases. Indeed, when Vavilov visited the French horticulturist Louis Trabut in Algiers in the summer of 1926, Trabut had already introduced economic plants to Algerian oases from nearly every other tropical and arid subtropical country in the world. Vavilov was disheartened:
“The first impression is that there is very little of the real Africa left there. All around and wherever you look in Algeria, there is an exclusively international flora: beautiful Peruvian philodendron with split leaves; enormous thickets of Australian eucalyptus; acacias and casuarinas; citrus trees introduced from southeastern Asia; Mexican cacti and agaves planted as fences along the shores …”
Today, along the Egyptian shores of the Mediterranean from Alexandria all the way to Marsa Matruh some three hundred kilometers to the west, this same globalization of the cultivated flora is proceeding at a blinding pace, as tens of thousands of shorefront condominiums are being built for wealthy European and Saudi vacationers. Except for ancient heirloom varieties of figs, which have thousands of years of tenure there, most of the food and ornamental crops along the North African coast could be found along each arid subtropical coastline anywhere in the world. Most require more fresh water than the desert has to offer. In little time, the cosmopolitan weeds of the horticultural world will swarm in on Siwa as well, attempting to rob it of its distinctiveness. It is too early to tell whether the Berber and Bedouin values still strong in Siwa will be enough to absorb the insults without transforming the Pearl of the Desert into something altogether different.
With Vavilov poised to enter Abyssinia, we rejoin Gary Paul Nabhan, at Siwa Oasis because Vavilov couldn’t be.
One key factor [in fostering the conservation of agricultural diversity in the oasis] is that the traditional mix of crops grown within a multi-storied oasis garden offers Siwans a measure of resilience that industrial monoiculture of grains or even of olives could not offer. In years of drought, when flowing water ebbs and soil alkalinity rises, Siwan farmers can plant fewer of the salt-sensitive annual crops, falling back on their more hardy perennials for food. In more favorable years, when drought, locust plagues or hot spells are minimized, they can add in more diversity under the protective canopy of their dates. However, few vegetable varieties introduced from the U.S. or Europe can withstand the heat or soil alkalinity that Siwa’s biladi vegetables routinely tolerate. Because of these special environmental constraints, most Siwan farmers and gardeners still rely on the heirloom varieties that have stood the test of time.
Finally, Siwans are extremely proud of their traditional cuisine, which relies heavily on the particular mix of flavors, colors, textures, and fragrances that their own biladi varieties offer. Their local hibiscus flowers are yellow, not red, and are aesthetically preferred over the red karkadeeh flowers used as a tea throughout the rest of Egypt. The red hibiscus is now transported to Siwa in large quantities, where it is sold for cheaper prices, but Siwans still prefer their yellow variety. The traditional biladi heirlooms of the Berbers are known locally as bi-Siwi vegetables, fruits and flowers, those of the Siwan people, belonging to them as much as their own bodies do. In contrasting their own culture with that of the Cairene Arabic culture of the Nile, the Berber people of Siwa point out that their own foods are both better adapted to their oasis and more healthful as a diet. As long as a cultural community values such traditional foods for such reasons more than they value the lower price tags on imported foods, such culinary traditions will persist.
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