BIET ENDA MICHAEL - AWDOHI
My GRandfather’s church (paternal)
Meaning my grandfather sourced engineers to build this church, gathered funding, and consulted the nearest monastery when constructing this church for his village. It is one of the only churches in the South of Eritrea blending both the circular and cubic shapes of orthodox architecture.
My dad who helped initiate the funding for this project, says the church construction began in 2006 and was completed in 2012. By his next visit in 2017, they were holding service inside.
Above: Once I walked to the center of the church, I immediately glanced up curious if there was anything painted there. I was met with this glorious painting of St. Michael surrounded by angels on the inside of the dome.
One of my goals when I return is to paint some clouds beneath the angels. I asked the priest if it was possible, as a personal contribution and continuation of my grandfather’s legacy, to which I was told “Shigr yelen” (“There’s no problem with that”).
Above: Keshi Mengistab and I.
Above: My aunt Alem and the priest. Behind me was a stack of broken umbrellas from the church, meant for a repairer to take, restore, and resell them. These umbrellas were used during regular services at the church, meaning they smell of the incenses used during Quedasie. I decided on the teal and green umbrellas, to which Keshi Mengistab took out his cross and blessed them for me. I was crying so much my aunt’s laughing at me <3
My grandfather’s rosary, given to me by my Aunt Alem. She caught me mourning him in another room, I was heartbroken thinking to how much time was taken while recalling how his chair was broken down and turned into firewood. It was a beautiful Tigrinya patriarchal chair that was irreplaceable to me as it was one of the few things I remembered him by. I’ve only known my paternal grandfather when I was maybe 8 when I last visited Eritrea.
My aunt caught me bawling and she gave me these prayer beads as a way to remember him. She’d say the house would verberate from the sounds of his beads clanking into each other as he recited.
There is still residue from his hands covering every bead.
My paternal grandfather and grandmother laid to rest beside each other in the cemetery on church grounds.