They enveloped themselves by white or consumed orange and filled the temples that dab the scene.
It is a public with a more significant other worldliness than anyplace else I have been to—one where love is woven into virtually every part of life. Also, during my excursion, it turned out to be evident that this love of the congregation was conceived from a conviction that Ethiopia has been picked by God as the last resting spot of the Ark of the Covenant.
There is just one man alive who has seen the supposed Ark in the entirety of its scriptural wonder. It is, as indicated by Ethiopian legend, covered up in a congregation in Album—a little city in the northern good countries—and monitored by a solitary priest. No one else goes into the room and simply after his demise will the priest leave the grounds.