The first book I read by Dervla Murphy was The Waiting Land: A Spell in Nepal. The book detailed Murphy’s work with Tibetan refugees in the 1960s. Very interesting book, but I found this one, In Ethiopia with a Mule to be even more captivating.
This travelogue is Murphy’s account of her 1966 excursion from Northern Ethiopia, near the Red Sea, to the capital of Addis Ababa, a journey of 1,024 miles. Nearly all of that was spent on foot, accompanied by her faithful pack mule, Jock. Along the way Murphy, a native of Ireland, describes her meeting many kind and hospitable natives, plenty of poor and sick people, some thieves and nasty characters, a few wild animals, and lots of uncertainty. There were nights, while trekking across sparsely populated areas, when there was no village to shelter her and the mule, forcing her to camp out under the stars. But the reader gathers that Murphy never considered that a particular hardship.
It’s hard to imagine anyone trying, or being able, to making a trip like this nowadays. Definitely an account of a bygone era, but maybe not that much of an innocent one, even in those days. If nothing else, this woman, traveling on her own with very little in the way of assistance or provisions, was a brave, intrepid soul. Wary of some people, trusting of others, she deftly relied on her natural instincts and ability to bridge cultural differences to ensure that she stayed out of harm’s way.
Murphy’s writing is both vividly descriptive and acutely insightful. She’s never afraid to praise or condemn the variety of people she meets, depending on the circumstances. And she supplements her adventures with plenty of thoughtful observations too. Here are a few lines that struck me when reading this book:
“In this country, as elsewhere, the best currency for purchasing kindness is trust.”
‘Nuclear weapons seem no more terrifying than the zeal with which we are chasing everyone else towards our own materialistic sewer.”
“What damage are we doing, blindly and swiftly, to those races who are being taught that because we are materially richer we must be emulated without question? What compels us to infect everyone else with our own sick urgency to change, soften, and standardize? How can we have the effrontery to lord it over peoples who retain what we have lost — a sane awareness that what matters most is immeasurable?”
I love this woman! I was so smitten with this book that I plan on trying to find the other 20 books by her that I’ve missed. And as of this writing, she is still alive — and traveling — at the age of 85.