Dancing in Ethiopia

While Aster is roasting the beans, I finally find time to ask her about how things had gone this afternoon.

"Did you manage to change the euros to birrs?"

"Yes -- it was a lot!" she replies as if lost in admiration.

"And the hospital?"

"Yes, I also went to the hospital. For now, it was more than enough -- my sister can come at the end of this week!"

"What did your sister say?"

For a moment, Aster remains silent, as if weighting her words. Then, with a soft voice, she replies "She was very happy -- very grateful. And me too -- we are both very grateful for you that you help us. I don't know how I can ever thank you for what you are doing for us."

I want to dismiss it -- tell her it is nothing, but then, just in time, I realize that I shouldn't play down the horrible situation they are living; by waving it aside, I might put down the effort they had done to get help. I mean, Aster was even willing to...

So instead, I tell her how happy I am to do this for them; that I feel grateful to be able to help her sister in this terrible situation. That it makes me proud; happy to do something useful.

For a moment, I get the feeling the coffee beans get shaken more vigorously than before...

As always, the coffee is delicious. I tell Aster about my family, and she tells me about hers -- her father had had a high position in a medium sized town, and sent her oldest sister to Addis to study. Soon after she had finished her study and found a job, their father died. Their mother had died already many years before -- a year after Aster was born -- and after her father's death, her stepmother sent her to live with her sister. A few years later, Mareshet also came to live with them.

"What are you going to do now -- are you staying in Addis?"

Perhaps this looks like a good moment, but I feel like cannot ask her yet. "I think I will stay a few more days in Addis, and then I want to see some other places like Lalibela, Bahar Dar and Gondar. I don't have any fixed plans; just decide when I get there."

Aster nods, but doesn't pursue.

The candle light combined with the glowing charcoal makes her golden skin glow and her dark eyes shine; adding an extra dimension which makes her heart-shaped face even more beautiful.

Then I realize Aster had asked me something.

"Sorry? I wasn't paying attention; what did you say?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"I was looking at you -- how beautiful you are..."

Like this morning, Aster first doesn't know how to react, and looks away. Then, she turns back to me. "Do you like black girls?"

"It's not black girls that I like -- I like you! I really think you are beautiful. And indeed, you have a beautiful skin, but to be honest, I've never looked at black girls this way before. It must be you!"

"I don't know -- I think white girls are prettier than me..."

"It is not only the color -- it is your face, your eyes, your body... It is just perfect!"

"Do you want me to come with you to the hotel, this evening?"

Wow -- that wasn't what I'd been thinking of! How did I get there! "No, no! That's not why I am saying this -- I really mean it!"

"So you don't want me?" Perhaps I'm wrong, but she seems disappointed.

"I really like you, but I don't want you to think that I gave you this money because I want to sleep with you. I mean.... I think... I think you better stay here and take care of your sister during the night." I feel like I've made some really big mistakes right now, but I honestly don't want to abuse the situation we're in.

Aster seems somewhat offended -- perhaps my words hurt her, but I really don't know how to solve that now. Hopefully I'll get a chance to make up to her.

When Aster starts to stand up, I get an idea. "Would you like to show me Addis, tomorrow?"

Aster sinks back. "Yes -- sure! I would love that! Anything special you'd like to see?" She seems relieved, and I can breathe again.

We finish the last coffee and then it's time for me to go back to the hotel again. Before we leave the house, Aster tries one more time. "So you're sure you don't want me to join you?"

I am in doubt -- if I follow my feelings, then I should ask her with me, but my mind tells me to be patient. I try to be tactful, and ask her if that's what she wants. Fortunately, she remains silent, and I tell her once more that perhaps she should stay with her sister.

Then she pulls out a stack of money, and tries to press it in my hands.

"What is that?" I ask, bewildered.

"It's what's left," Aster tells. "Your money was worth much more than fifteen thousand birr, and this is what's left of it."

I knew it would be more than enough money, but I was kind of hoping that she wouldn't bring it up. I want her to keep it, so she won't have to find other ways to get money, but I also realize that it may be sensitive for her.

"Can't you keep it for a while? Maybe you'll need some more for your sister, like for clothes and things like that?" I see her hesitate. "At least wait until she's in the hospital, and you know what other costs you'll have..."

"Will you still be here then?"

"She will go on Friday -- right? I think I will stay in Addis at least until Saturday -- there are a lot of things I want to see here -- so don't worry about that."

Aster gives in.

She brings me back to the main road, and because minibuses are no longer driving at this time, she arranges a taxi for me.

***

Like the day before, Aster arrives at a quarter to nine. We go to her house, where she bakes me eggs, mixed with unions, tomato and peppers, and a lot of salt. I eat it with bread.

When I ask her if she doesn't eat, she shakes her head -- she had already eaten before. Instead, she starts making coffee.

When the coffee is finished, she asks me where I want to go today. I tell her it's up to her, and apparently, she already has some ideas.

First, she guides me to a hotel with a very beautiful garden. We walk around, admiring the flowers and plants, suspiciously looked after by one of the guards who warns us not to tread the grass.

We move on to the terrace where I order a coke, and mineral water for Aster.

"May I take some of your coke?" Aster asks, and then pours a splash of coke in her glass of water. "You want some water too?" -- she passes me her bottle, and I do likewise.

"You always do like this?" I ask her, and she grins.

"I love mixing!" -- I wonder there is a pun intended...

From the terrace, we can see a small pool, and look at the people in and around the water.

"Do you know how to swim?" I ask, but Aster shakes her head.

"But I would love to learn!"

When our drinks are finished, we move on. This time, she leads me to a park, and after paying a small fee, we are allowed to enter.

The park itself is not very spectacular -- there are some paths leading along high hedges, and in the middle of the park, there are several cages containing lions.

There are only a few other visitors, most of them around the cages, trying to get the attention of the lions.

Generally described as magnificent animals, the lions and lionesses in these cages look ragged -- unhealthy. The cages are small, without any attributes to entertain the animals, and they don't do anything but lying around.

All of a sudden, Aster clings to my arm, and points in the direction of one of the cages. A man, holding a long stick, is prodding it to one of the males, probably in an attempt to make it more active. Several others are watching the lion's reaction, but all that happens is, that lazily, the lion stands up and moves to the farthest wall, out of reach.

The man, not willing to give up so easily, then uses the stick to pull at the large piece of meat that is lying on the ground. The lion shakes his head, gets up and scurries to the meat. To everyone's enjoyment the lion gives a soft growl and lashes out to the stick. Then he picks up the meat and carries it with him, out of reach.

I have seen enough -- Aster seems to like it, but it makes me feel sad, so I ask her to move on.

"Do you want me to make lunch?"

"Let's have lunch in a nearby restaurant, okay? Then maybe we can have dinner in your place?"

Aster agrees, and we enter a restaurant. Suspiciously, she looks around, but apparently it passes, and we take a seat.

Aster orders, and in no time our food is on the table. It is the same roasted meat that I had before.

Again, we share a bottle of coke and a bottle of water -- me getting coke with water while Aster's water hardly changes color by the amount of coke she adds. And then we eat.

Like before, I find it hard to eat the injerra, and I stop after only a few mouthfuls. I guess it is the injerra which makes me feel stuffed -- even the smell is enough to make my stomach turn.

"You don't like it?"

"I do, I do! But I'm not used to injerra, and I just can't eat that much. Especially after the delicious meal you had cooked yesterday. I really have had enough for now."

Aster seems unsatisfied by my answer; she grabs a handful of food and presses me to take it. And another.

I try to tell her I can't take anymore, but Aster is not taking it. "You have to eat -- you are a man, and you need to eat more!"

With great effort, I manage to take a few more bites, but then even Aster accepts that I am stuffed. She eats little more, and then also sits back, finishing her drink.

"Do you also want coffee?" she asks, but I suggest to walk a little further and have coffee somewhere else.

Back on the street, we walk hand in hand. I don't know where we're going, but I like it. Then, all of a sudden, Aster pulls my arm. "Look! Ferengi!" She points in the direction of two white women.

I shrug -- what's the big deal.

"I think they look beautiful!"

"I don't know -- I don't really care." Aster doesn't seem reassured so I continue. "You are much more beautiful than them -- that's for sure!"

"No, I don't think so!"

"Oh yes you are -- trust me! Far more beautiful!"

I'm not sure if I managed to convince her, but the women are out of sight, and we also continue.

We stop at a small bar to get coffee.

"Nice coffee!" Aster says approvingly, after her first sip.

"Your coffee is better!" I reply.

"You think so?" When I assure her that her coffee is ten times better, she nods, and thoughtfully says "I think so too..."

When we move on, we get shortly interrupted by a small kid, shouting to me "Ferengi! Give me my money!"

Aster freezes, and then a rapid flow of angry words leave her mouth, while she threateningly walks his way. The boy is taken aback, and silently listens to her torrent of words, making sure he's at a safe distance. Then he turns away and runs away.

We continue with Aster still muttering some angry words.

"Don't think about it -- it was just a kid."

"Just a kid? I don't care -- I feel embarrassed! This isn't how we raise our children!"

I shrug -- what can I do. It's not the first time I get this, and I think it is still better than calling names and swearing, or worse, throwing stones...

We move on, and finally arrive at a large church -- a Cathedral. It is beautiful -- both on the outside and on the inside -- and we wander around. Perhaps I should have taken a guide, but something tells me Aster would consider that wasted money. I do hear, from one of the other groups inside, that the church holds the tomb of Emperor Haile Selassie, some other royal people, politicians and important people from the church. Perhaps I can check the Lonely Planet when I'm back in the hotel -- tomorrow I definitely need to bring it with me.

There is also a museum next to the church, which presents crowns, bibles and many other items. We walk around for a while, and when we leave, Aster guides me to a minibus that brings us back to her own area.

"You like pasta?" she asks, and then buys some spaghetti, meat and tomatoes.

Aster tells me to sit inside on the sofa, but she herself stays outside to prepare the food, so I follow her and watch her working.

Some children are watching from a distance, and Aster calls something to them. They quickly get inside one of the houses, to return with a stool for me.

I watch her cutting the vegetables and meat, softly singing with the music from one of the neighbor's radios. Then, as if realizing she's not alone, she looks up at me, ashamed, but I tell her I like her voice.

"Really? It's not too hard for you?"

"No, it is beautiful. Like everything else of you!"

"Waayyy!" Slowly, she turns her head, and calls something to one of the neighbors who is also preparing food. The neighbor laughs, and excitedly replies some words. Then she also starts singing...

The pasta tastes nice -- the sauce is perhaps a bit too salty, and I carefully put all the peppers aside, but I easily finish my plate, and don't object when she offers some more. Aster herself eats injerra.

Dinner is followed by coffee, and I once more confirm that her coffee is ten times better than any other coffee I've ever tasted.

"I think you are in love with my coffee!"

I sure am...

***

The previous day I was back in the hotel early, and had a few beers at the bar. Tonight I hope I can invite Aster to go out with me. So while waiting for her to arrive, I am leafing through the Lonely Planet, searching for places of interest.

Breakfast at Aster's place this time is bread with a thick layer of honey. It tastes nice, but unfortunately, the honey still contains some chunks of wax.

The coffee is, of course, delicious again.

I tell Aster that I want to visit the National Museum today. First she doesn't know which museum I mean, but when I tell her that it is close to the university, she knows the place.

"It is close to Kidist Selassie, where we were yesterday!"

We go by minibus, and first visit the National Museum of Ethiopia. I have seen it before, but I still love it; the remains of ancient man, extinct animals, pottery and tools, but also memorabilia from former emperors, and some more modern art. Aster, however, doesn't seem to be too interested.

We take drinks, and then move on to the next museum, the Ethnological Museum, which is located in a former palace on the university campus.

The pictures of other tribes do attract Aster's attention, and with great amusement, she stares at the naked bodies, decorated with scars, tattoos, mud, shells and other decorations. Anything else, like handicrafts and other objects, the rooms belonging previously to Emperor Haile Selassie, or the religious art, does not captivate her.

Outside, we find a restaurant that serves hamburgers, which we take for lunch. Then I ask Aster if she can show me Merkato.

"Merkato? What do you want to do there -- do you need something?"

Merkato is a huge market, maybe even the largest market in Africa, and I've been told that it is absolutely crazy out there.

Aster hesitates. "Are you sure you want to go there? I don't think it's a good place for ferengi."

"At least I would like to have a look -- we don't have to stay long; I'd just like to see what it looks like..."

Aster clearly has mixed feelings about this, but she doesn't stop me, and so we once more enter one of the minibuses that drive us through town.

When we get out, I already experience the first indications of being near a huge commercial area -- the area is full of beggars -- disabled people, some holy men, children... Aster quickly pulls me along with her.

We move through some narrow alleys, and suddenly enter an area full of small stalls, overcrowded with people. There is hardly any space to move, and for a moment I stand still -- watching the activity from aside. It surely is a mad-house and all of a sudden I'm not so sure I want to get in there, but then Aster grabs me by the hand and pulls me into the crowd.

Aster walks fast, without hesitation, and it takes a lot of effort to stay close to her. I don't have time to look around, as I need all of my attention to prevent myself from falling. The strong, spicy smells irritate my nose, throat and my eyes, while the constant rubbing against foreign bodies makes me fear losing my wallet and other belongings.

Finally, Aster stops at a stall with large bins filled with some kind of shiny stones. Aster takes out a handful, and smells. Then she lets me smell it too -- I recognize it from the Coffee Ceremony -- this is probably incense. She talks to the saleswoman who fills a plastic bag, weighs it, and then Aster pays. Next, she buys coffee beans and some spices. Then she turns to me. "Shall we go?"

I nod -- I've had enough...

Once outside, I take a deep breath, happy to be still in possession of my wallet. Aster doesn't say anything -- she only smiles an I-told-you-so smile...

"What's next?"

It is still a bit early, so I ask her if she likes another drink.

Without a word, Aster takes my hand again, walks along the street, and dives into another alley which seems to lead us back to Merkato. Now we enter an area with stalls where you can get coffee and tea. We sit down, and without asking, Aster orders tea for both of us. Aside of the busy crowd, I can look around, watching all those people, while sipping my sugar sweet tea.

Once back on the street, Aster asks again, "What's next?"

I ask her if I can invite her for western dinner and if we can go to a place with Ethiopian dancing afterwards.

Aster looks doubtful. "You mean a restaurant with meat and so-on?"

Then I realize that she might not feel comfortable eating in a chic restaurant -- perhaps she is as skilled in eating with knife and fork, as I am without...

"We can go to an Italian restaurant where they serve pizza and pasta."

Aster still looks unsure, but she agrees. "And do you know where you want to go for the dancing?"

I tell her I found some addresses in the Lonely Planet.

"Can we first go to my house then? I need to arrange some things."

"Sure. And if you can't, please tell me -- it isn't that important. It's just an idea."

"No, no! I like it! I just need to make some arrangements, and then I'm ready to go!"

We go to her house, Aster talks with some of the neighbors, excuses herself to change clothes in another house, and then we're off.

***

We walk through the area where, according to the Lonely Planet, an excellent Italian restaurant is supposed to be, but we can't find it. When Aster asks, it turns out that it was closed already years ago after a fire. There is no alternative close by, so we stop a taxi to get us somewhere else.

We sit on the backseat, holding hands, until the driver tells us we're at the location. He gives directions, and Aster writes down his phone number on her hand.

The restaurant isn't too bad -- we both order pizza and exchange slices. In the end, I eat most of it, although Aster assures me she likes it a lot. When we're done eating, she uses the phone of the restaurant for the taxi driver to bring us to the place where the dancing takes place.

We have to walk through an enclosure, and end up inside a large, round building. There is a podium, still closed with curtains, and a circle of wooden seats around several small, colorful woven tables. There is music playing from the speakers and several people are eating Ethiopian dishes. When Aster asks, someone assures us that the live music will start in about half an hour.

I ask Aster what she wants to drink, and I can persuade her to have some wine with me; I order a bottle.

We sit on the uncomfortable wooden stools covered with goat skins, admiring the decoration along the walls. Quickly the place gets more and more crowded; many foreign people among them.

The curtains open, and we see members of the band taking place on the podium. After the sound-check they start their first song, which is immediately greeted by the Ethiopians among us.