After a whirlwind morning in the blazing heat of an Ethiopian winter, we stopped for lunch in an unpainted, cow-dung building. I blinked rapidly until my eyes adjusted to the dark interior and then flopped onto a straight-backed chair. My aching body enjoyed the coolness of the room.
Red-lentil stew and spiced cabbage was served for lunch, which I eagerly scooped up with injera, the local flatbread that is used like a spoon. My bowl was barely scraped clean when our guide told us it was time to go.