by Jim Plautz
“Jim, you have a visitor,” Gail announced as she interrupted our project meeting. Ken and I had arrived yesterday and were getting an update from Marco and his five local project managers.
“Gail, we won’t be done here for an hour. Can it wait? Who is it?”
“He says he is an old friend from Milwaukee, Father Sean McGinnis.”
“Father Sean, why didn’t you tell me?” I said, jumping out of my chair.
“I think she just did,” I heard Ken say in the background, but I was already heading for the door. “Guys, let’s take a short break.”
“Father Sean, what a great surprise,” I said as I grasped his arms. “What brings you to Ethiopia?”
“I was in the area and thought I’d stop and visit with an old friend.”
“What are you working on?” I asked, realizing that this visit might be more than just a coincidence. “The last I heard you were in Rhodesia.”
“Yes, I spent two wonderful years there and we accomplished quite a lot. I’ve been in Ethiopia for three months working in the Somalia desert area. The people in that region have a hard time making a go of it.”
“I haven’t been down there myself, but I have heard some grim stories. It’s pretty dangerous, isn’t it?” I remembered reading stories about famine and uprisings against local government officials. “Don’t most of the people in that area believe they are Somalians?”
“They do, and that’s part of the problem that Ethiopia has, but the bigger problem is that these people are starving and dying of thirst.”
“How can I help?”
“Well, I have a small favor to ask. Can we talk about it at lunch?”
Father Sean and I spent the first half hour catching up on old times including that night at his church when the Ark exploded. “What ever happened with the investigation? Did the police ever find out what caused the explosion? I’ve asked Matthew, but he won’t give me a straight answer.”
“I bet he told you something like ‘it was meant to happen’,” Father Sean replied. “That’s what he tells me.”
“Exactly, but there has to be a reason. What did the three kids who planned the whole thing have to say?”
“Well, they admit that they created the smoke and sound effects, but claim to have no idea why the fire started or how it could have exploded like it did.”
“Did they say why they did it?” I asked.
“Jim, how much do you know about the history and legend surrounding the Ark?”
“I’ve read a fair amount and certainly am aware that local legends say that the Ark might have been hidden on Tana Kirkos before it was shipped to Axum. I suspect this is mostly legend.”
“I wouldn’t dismiss it so fast if I were you. There is evidence to support the theory that the Ark was brought to the Lake Tana area for safekeeping. But, I was asking if you are familiar with some of the legends surrounding how the Ark was created. Specifically, there is a viewpoint that Moses was basically a magician who created the Ark as a means to control his people. All the powers attributed to the Ark were just smoke and mirrors.”
“Wow, how could he have done all those things?”
“Possibly, Moses was trained by the best. He was adopted into the Egyptian royal family as a baby and had access to secrets passed down from ancient Egypt. The stories about changing his staff into a serpent, and even parting the waters as told in Exodus, are tricks that were told many times in that era and attributed to many others as well as Moses.”
“I had never heard that,” I admitted. “What’s that have to do with the Ark of the Covenant?”
“Well, there weren’t any witnesses on Mt. Sinai when God instructed Moses to build the Ark and supposedly gave Moses the specific dimensions. Critics point out that the dimensions and construction of the Ark, including the pole-rings to carry the Ark, is almost identical to artifacts found in King Tut’s tomb dating several centuries earlier.”
“I’m still not sure what you’re getting at.”
“Well, theologians believe the Ark was a vehicle for God to communicate with man. An alternative theory claim’s the Ark was nothing more than a man-made creation and all the powers attributed to the Ark are nothing more than black magic. Moses created the Ark to rally the Jews, but all the powers, including tumbling the walls of Jericho, can be explained.”
“Is this what you believe?” I was feeling a little bit like a kid asking his parents if there really is a Santa Claus, but already knowing the answer.
“No, of course not,” Father Sean answered firmly. “All I am saying is that is why the high school kids did what they did. In fact, only one of the three doubted the scripture and believed that Moses was nothing more than a good magician. The other two boys went along with it because they thought it would be a good way to debate the topic.”
“Okay, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with that,” I offered. “Why did you and Matthew get so upset?”
“Let me count the reasons,” Father Sean said softly, changing into his priestly role. “Are you familiar with the First Commandment?”
“Of course; ‘I am the Lord thy God. Thou shalt have no other gods before me,’” parroting the words I had memorized many years ago.
“Good, now put these into the perspective of putting a false idol on the Ark, particularly the fatted calf, as these kids did. It was blasphemy. Remember, Moses lived in a time when Jews still made animal sacrifices to appease their idols. When you have time, take a trip to the Falasha village near Gondar. You can see for yourself how important blood sacrifices to idols were in Moses’ day.”
“I’d love to,” I said seriously. “Truthfully, I haven’t been able to get that evening out of my head. I would like to learn more about the Ark. Maybe we could take a trip to Gondar?”
Father Sean must have been waiting for an opportunity to ask his favor. “Excellent idea, Jim, I’d be happy to help you when I’ve finished my work here. Let’s talk about sharing a little bit of the Lake Tana water that is so plentiful around here. The Somalians sure could use a little.”
“Ah, now we get to the heart of the matter,” I said with a smile. “I gather you have some ideas as to how this can be accomplished.”
“Yes we do.”
“We?”
“Matthew wants to meet with us next week. He already has most of the permits and approvals in place.”
“Matthew,” I thought to myself, “I should have known.”
“Father, tell me what you know about this. I would like to get Ken and Marco to start working on this so we can be ready to go when Matthew gets here.”
“Okay, but we need to keep this confidential for awhile. The Egyptians haven’t signed off on this yet. As you know, the Nile River is fundamental to their economy.”
“Have they been told?”
“I think Matthew would like to have more information about the impact upon water flow before we raise the issue.”
“Okay, let’s see what the ramifications will be.”
Matthew walked into our little conference room and greeted me like a long, lost friend. “Coach, I appreciate your taking the time to see me. I gather this must Marco,” he said walking over to shake hands. “Ken, it’s good to see you again. Coach has told me a lot of good things about both of you and how much you did for us while he was leading my high school to a State basketball championship.”
“We heard a little about you too,” Marco replied easily. “Can you really walk on water?” The question provided a perfect segue.
“I hope we have the opportunity to try in Somalia,” Matthew replied, taking advantage of the opportunity to get down to business. “Father Sean tells me you two have come up with some ideas on how we can get this done.”
“We have some ideas,” Marco interrupted, “but I’m not sure the Egyptians will like it. You can’t pay Matthew without robbing Peter.”
Matthew didn’t rise to the challenge, but instead took a conciliatory tone. “Well, we have the best people work
ing on this. If we can’t come up with something that can accommodate everyone, then it can’t be done. Let’s give it our best shot.”
Three days later we had a workable plan, a combination of a new dam and riverbed that would route the water to the lowlands where a 16” diameter pipeline would carry the water to a man made reservoir and eventual distribution. The new dam would be set up below the Blue River Falls and send water to the desert only during the 6-8 month rainy season. The impact on water flow to Egypt would be minimal and transparent because of the water control already established at the Aswan Dam.
The major impact would be on Lake Tana itself, which would fall an estimated two-three meters from its current maximum depth of 15 meters. This in turn would reduce the size of the lake by 10% and expose up to 100 feet of new beach. Existing piers and marinas would need to be extended, but this would have a long-term positive impact upon the tourist economy.
“I can’t speak for everyone,” I commented, “but this seems like a win-win for everyone. Matthew, can you sell this to the Egyptians?”
“I’ll do my best, Coach. Your team certainly did your job well.”
Matthew left soon after for Addis Ababa and a connection to Cairo. Ken told me later that they could now appreciate what I had told them about Matthew. “He never told us what to do, but I always had the feeling that he was a step ahead of us, that he had already thought of it and was just waiting for us to come up with the idea. Do you know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean. I learned that early in my coaching days. He is a true leader.”
“He is also smarter than you, Ken,” Marco added with obvious satisfaction. “I never thought I would be able to say that.”
“Well, you won’t get any argument from me.” Ken said ruefully. “I threw in the towel when he started speaking Ge’ez with those Monks on Tana Kirkos.”
We didn’t realize it at the time, but it would be almost seven years before we got the permits to lower the water level on Lake Tana. The Egyptians were only part of the problem; wildlife preservation and environmental concerns presented even bigger delays.
Chapter 9 - Junior Year - The Tom Crean Era
1982 UNC Tar Heels
