Dancing in Ethiopia

Some of the men -- especially those in company of western people, probably guides -- start moving their shoulders at the rhythm of the music. Their speed is incredible and it looks like they are trying to outcompete each other. I look at Aster's face -- she is clearly enjoying herself; her eyes are shining and there is a huge smile on her lips.

The band plays a few more numbers and then a man and woman, dressed in traditional clothes, enter the center of the room. The band continues playing and the two in the center start dancing, using the same rapid shoulder-movements as I have seen from the other men.

The crowd starts clapping at the rhythm of the music and some loudly cheer up the dancers, who are giving a great show. One from the audience stands up and presses a hundred-birr note on the forehead of the dancer. Apparently he had wetted it with some spittle, as it sticks on his head. Others follow his lead.

After several numbers, the dancers walk off, the band gets off too, and others take place at the podium.

The band starts playing, an old man walks up from behind a screen; the whole room gets excited. I look at Aster -- she whispers something to the woman next to her, who nods, and I can see her enthusiasm rising. "It's Mahmoud!"

"You know him?"

"Oh yes! My father used to sing with his music -- he's really famous!" She seems really surprised to see him -- sincerely happy.

The man starts singing and the whole crowd joins in, including Aster, who softly whispers the words with the rest. It is impressive.

Men, and also women, enter the stage; press money on his head. Imperturbably, he keeps singing despite people shaking his hands, pulling their arms around his waist, kissing him... He sings like he is all alone on the stage; untouched by the chaos around him.

The next song is welcomed with even more cheering; Aster is jumping on her seat; arms go in the air. The man sings quiet, calm, with dignity, while the crowd exclaims its love to the old man.

I hesitate, but then pull out a hundred birr note. "Do you want to give it to him?"

Aster looks at the money -- "No; you can give it, if you want."

I don't really want to give it -- it's more important for Aster than for me, but I can see her point. So I also climb up on the podium and press the money in his hands, not looking to his face. Fortunately, he also doesn't pay attention to me.

Mahmoud sings three more songs and then he's off -- he's not coming back later that evening.

After Mahmoud, the first band plays again, accompanying the dancers who are dressed in different clothes now, apparently dancing a different style.

Every now and then the woman next to Aster talks to her -- when she's off to the toilet, Aster turns to me. "She's horrible. She keeps complaining about the man she's with -- she is angry because he doesn't want to buy more expensive drinks for her and she says she hopes to find someone else ..." Apparently, the woman thinks, Aster is just like her. Her resignation about this makes me sad.

"Do you want to go?"

"No, no, I'm fine! I think later this evening the people also start dancing!!"

I hope she doesn't expect me to join them -- no way I can shake my shoulders like they do!

Four more times the dancers come up, wearing different clothes, dancing different styles. One time the woman is dressed in a short dress made of leaves, and suggestively shaking her ass towards the man, one time the man is holding a stick, one time the woman dances while holding the ends of a shawl, tied around her waist, and during the last dance, the woman swings her long hair through the air at the rhythm of the music.

The band continues and people get up and start dancing. I like watching them, but resist when Aster tries to pull me to the floor. I don't want to make a fool out of myself. However, Aster is persistent, and eventually manages to get me on my feet. We move to a quiet part on the floor, where I try to make my best moves, while Aster's dancing simply blows me away. She is certainly as good as the professional dancers, and her sexy, seductive movements with her head make my whole body tingle.

There is no doubt she is enjoying herself immensely, and that makes me happy. I had never expected she would let herself go like this, and I love watching it.

She looks at me, cheeky, her hands on her hips, her body slightly leaning towards me, and she moves her shoulders as if inviting me to join her dance. I try --I can't possibly come up to their standards, but I try. Her shoulders move faster, her head moves from side to side, keeping her eyes on me, and her whole body dances -- a dance, for me alone. She shows herself to me; invites me to look at her, to appreciate her. She gives me all she has -- I know it is meant for me.

Another girl joins her -- steps in front of her -- and they dance together; sometimes daring each other, sometimes giving space to the other, but for the whole time Aster's eyes are on me.

At this moment she is so much unlike the girl I had learned to know in the short time together -- is it the music; perhaps the wine? It looks good on her.

The music stops, and Aster and the girl fall in each other's arms. They thank each other, and Aster takes me back to our place.

"I love this music!" She shouts, panting heavily.

I ask her what she wants to drink and get mineral water for both of us. We watch the crowd moving around us, while sipping our water. I hope that, after our drinks are finished, she will return to the dancefloor, but then the band stops and the speakers start playing a mix of house and reggae. We look at each other and nod -- it's time to go.

Once outside, we wrap arms around each other's waist. We move to the side of the road, and it doesn't take long to stop a taxi.

"Tell him to drop you off first, and then to bring me to the hotel."

Aster looks disappointed, but doesn't object. She briefly informs the taxi driver, and then we cuddle together at the back seat. My arm is wrapped around her, and her fingers draw circles on my other hand. I wish we were back home...

Before Aster gets out of the car, she presses a demure kiss on my cheek. "See you tomorrow again, right?"

I confirm. For a moment, I think of pulling her back in the car to take her with me -- it seems like she is waiting for me to do that, but eventually she closes the door. We wave goodbye and the taxi moves on again.

That night, for the first time in Addis, I feel the need to release myself...

***

The next morning I get baked eggs for breakfast again. Aster has a tape of Mahmoud -- yesterday's singer -- which she plays while preparing coffee. She is cheerful and makes little jokes about my dancing skills. I love her, and it scares me -- there is too much difference between us...

Aster takes me to a music shop where I buy CDs of Mahmoud, Gigi -- the female singer she had showed me before -- and some other artists which are, she assures me, just as good.

When we walk past a clothes-shop, I manage to pull her inside and buy her a shirt that I like very much. In return, I also buy myself a shirt from her choice.

We continue strolling the streets, we have a fruit juice, and lunch at Aster's place. This time, it is minced meat in a sauce somewhat similar to the one she served with the doro wot, the chicken, but spicier. It could have been nice, if it weren't that spicy. Aster tells me to use the white substance when it is too hot, but I'm not sure if that's such a good idea for me. Nevertheless, I think I manage to eat a respectable amount. Of course, Aster isn't satisfied, and continues to feed me several huge morsels until I can convince her I really have had enough.

I like it, how she takes care of me, but at the same time, it makes me feel bad. Like I'm taking advantage of her.

I show her pictures on my phone, and we make a few selfies. Then I leave. Aster has some arrangements to do for tomorrow, to prepare her sister's hospitalization, so I'm on my own this afternoon.

I walk the streets, looking for nothing special, when I pass a gold shop. Out of curiosity, I walk inside, but I find nothing of my liking. However, an idea has formed, and I start entering the other shops on my way, until I find a thin golden necklace, with a pendant consisting of three small golden rods forming a leaf-shape. It's simple but elegant -- it somehow touches me. I like it and I buy it.

I continue walking, without purpose, when I hear shouting from one of the fruit stands. I see an adult, holding a small boy by his hair -- the boy is screaming and trying to get away.

The man holds tight and hits him with the other hand, a clenched fist, straight in his face. And again. And again. Blood pours from the boys nose and his mouth; he tries to lie down on the ground, but the man keeps holding him by his hair.

The man keeps hitting him, and when he finally lets go, the boy rolls up on the ground like a ball. The man doesn't stop here -- he kicks him; kicks him with his foot, wherever he can. The boy wails. The man kicks the boy in his back, in his side, against his head -- I fear for the boy's life, I look around, but while several people are watching, no-one interferes.

A woman comes out of the shop, passing a stick to the man, and he starts hitting the boy with the stick, alternated by kicking him.

I feel like I have to vomit. Why doesn't anyone stop him -- don't they see the man is killing the boy? I don't understand what is holding me back; I'm shaking on my legs -- I want to turn my head away but I can't.

Then I see two policemen coming -- it should be over soon. But the police are in no hurry; they even seem to slow down their pace.

When the policemen finally arrive at the fruit stand, the man holds still. The police talk to him and the man seems to relax a bit. He talks, and he points, and the policemen only listen and watch. They don't interfere when the man gives another nasty kick to the boy. Instead, one pulls the boy up, and the other gives an additional number of punches in his stomach.

They let him drop on the ground, shout at him, and kick him until the boy attempts to stand up. They give him a few seconds and then kick him again, apparently telling him to hurry up a bit. When the boy finally stands on his feet, they drag him away -- a puddle of smeared blood reminds of what happened.

I feel horrible; the sight has made me sick -- literally! I see the other people continue their way as if nothing had happened... I am astonished...

A man in suit apparently sees my disgust and comes my way.

"You must think we're barbarians," he says, and I don't know what to answer.

"Think is; these boys have nothing to lose. Nothing!

You may not have seen them, but there are probably ten, twenty others like him around, and they have seen what happened, and many more will hear of it.

Try to think of what would happen if the owner catches a thief, just hands him over to the police, and they simply take him away. All the others will think: 'that's not so bad -- we can take what we want and if we get caught, it will only cost us a night in jail -- we can handle that!'

If that happens, the shop will be raided, completely emptied before the day has ended, and no-one will be able to stop them. The only way to stop these children is to scare them. And that's what happened here..."

The man walks on, leaving me behind. His words make sense and only confirm what I already knew -- I don't belong here...

I take a deep breath, and slowly walk away. I enter the first internet café on my way...

***

I manage to find Aster's house on my own. I knock on the gate, and Aster opens. She has already started cooking.

I don't tell her about what happened that afternoon -- instead I ask about her day. She tells me she managed to find a pick-up truck to get her sister to the hospital; no normal taxi would allow her sister inside.

She bought some extra clothes, and filled in some forms -- everything is ready for tomorrow.

Aster notices I'm not okay -- she asks me about it, but I avoid to tell what I've seen earlier that day; instead, I tell her my stomach is playing up.

Aster worries, but I convince her it's nothing; I'll be fine.

Today, Aster has made roasted beef -- the meat is delicious, the injerra remains problematic. Fortunately, there is also some bread which I take instead.

With an excited smile, Aster pours me a glass of yellow liquid. "I've bought some tej today -- honey wine! Taste it -- you'll love it; I'm sure!!"

She also fills a glass for herself, and we toast to her sister's recuperation.

The wine is sweet -- indeed a strong honey taste, and I like it.

"It's good -- isn't it?" Aster asks, excited, and I agree. She makes sure my glass remains filled.

I can't keep my thoughts from what I've seen, and it is hard to focus on Aster and be nice. I blame it on my health, and after coffee, I directly go to the hotel. Tomorrow morning, Aster won't pick me up for breakfast -- she'll be busy with her sister. However, when her sister is in the hospital and everything is arranged, she will come to see me.

***

As soon as I arrive at the hotel, I pack my bags and sign out from the hotel, leaving a small package behind at the reception for Aster.

A taxi brings me to the airport -- fortunately I was able to change my flight as I don't want to stay one more day.

***

When I enter the house, I am greeted with its warmth. Strange -- I am almost sure I turned the heating down before I left.

I also see a weekend bag. Is Shelly in? She is taking care of my house while I'm away, and I haven't informed her about my early return.

"Hey! Anybody home?!"

"Is that you, Chris?!" Shelly comes running into the living room. She seems surprised; shocked, even.

"yeah, I'm back. How's it going?"

"Fine... fine." Shelly seems a little unsettled. "I thought you were supposed to stay away for a month?"

"Yeah, but Jazlynn was right -- Ethiopia is not the place for me..."

"Oh, what happened?!!"

"Nothing -- nothing, but I just couldn't stand it there. I wanted to go home."

Shelly nods.

"How about you; how are you doing? Anything happened last week? Are you going somewhere?" I look at her bag.

She seems ill at ease. "Well, nothing special; nothing unusual."

I notice her hesitance over my last question, and some pieces fall together. "Were you planning on staying here tonight?"

Shelly is clearly embarrassed. I give her the time to find her words.

Finally, she starts answering; stammering her words... "You see... I thought, you would be away... and I had this... ... this date, and I wanted... You know, my house is too small for myself already, and... I wasn't expecting you, but I don't want you to think that I..."

She then remains silent, but I already get the picture. "So you have a date whom you invited to my house because it is bigger?"

Ashamed, she nods. "And less noisy. In my apartment..." Her face now turns deep red, and I wonder about whom she expects to suffer from the noise...

But I like her, and quickly I make up my mind. "So, in that case, can I stay in your apartment this weekend?"

My offer clearly takes Shelly by surprise, and I can see her mind racing. "No, I can't accept that... I mean, this is your house, and you've just arrived..."

It doesn't sound too convincing -- I know it is politeness and she would obviously like to make use of my offer. So I try a little harder to persuade her. "It would suit me too, you know -- I might want to go out tonight, and then I won't have to walk that far to get home..."

"You're the best!"

"I will get some of my stuff, and then I leave you alone." Shelly smiles, and I go and pack some clean clothes.

"See you on Monday then?" I say, when I take the keys from her; she nods grateful.

Then I can't help noticing a bundle of rope on the sofa. Shelly, following my eyes, realized what I am seeing, and once more her face turns a lovely red.

"Lucky guy!" It has left my mouth before I even think of it, and Shelly seems to give up keeping the appearances.

"Lucky girl..." She mutters in return.

"Lucky girl too. " I agree, but I am not prepared for her next reply.

"This only concerns girls..."

I guess my mouth stays open -- I never knew this about her -- and Shelly gives a nervous giggle.

I no longer know how to reply and quickly leave the house, but not before I call "Have fun!" I close the door, but I can just hear her reply: "You too!!"

***

The snow is mostly gone; apparently only very recently, as the sidewalks are covered with garbage and dog shit, which had been gathered and stayed preserved in the show for weeks. I need to watch my feet, not to step into the dirt.

I enter Shelly's house and I can only agree that it wouldn't be the right place for a date. Not only is it small, it also is a mess... Books, magazines and advertisements cover the floor and any other surface, including the sofa and dining table. Next to the sofa I find an empty pizza box, and several empty bottles lay around the floor. The sink is full of dirty dishes, and the floor is sticky. Not my business...

I check her bedroom -- there is only one, so I'll have to make use of her bed, but most likely she will use mine too. The bed is unmade -- I certainly will change the linen...

When I'm done, I clear some space on the sofa and get my laptop. I then realize I don't know her Wi-Fi code and call her. She doesn't pick her phone -- I wonder why...

I do, however, see a message from her, saying: 'If you don't mind my mess, I won't mind your mess either ;-)'

I smile and text her back: 'If you give me your Wi-Fi code, I have something else to look at. XXX'

I play a game until I get her message back: 'chk drawr undr tv 1st pg pbook XXX & XXX B2W' followed by an icon of fish on a fishing rod, finalized by '<3'

Too much information...

I check the drawer under the TV and find the phonebook with the code on the first page...

***

On Monday, I go to work like nothing happened. The fine drizzle isn't strong enough to wash away the dirt from the streets -- instead, it turns it into a filthy layer of muck...

People at work don't seem to notice I'm back too early -- I wonder if they even noticed my absence. Only Jazlynn wears her I-told-you-so smile, but I stay away from her, avoiding her questions. Shelly applies the same approach on me...

The planners are actually happy that I've come back early -- one of my colleagues got ill, so I can take over his work. Hopefully it will take up all of my attention...

At the end of the day, I walk into Shelly's office. "Fancy a dinner with me tonight?"

"Sure -- your place?"

"I guess so! -- at least it is still tidier than your place, I hope!?"

"Haven't you cleaned it up then?"

***

Together we walk to my home, grabbing some Indian food on the way.

"So, how was your weekend?"

Immediately, her face turns red again. "Good. And yours?"

"Mwah... nothing special for me..." I'm leaving her off the hook by now -- it's not my business anyway...

I describe Addis to her on the way to my house. We have dinner, and then I show some photos from my phone.

Within no time, Shelly has grabbed the phone out of my hands and moves through the pictures, lingers at the selfies of Aster and me, and then quickly finds back all other photos with Aster.

"Is this why you left Ethiopia so early?" She gives me a penetrating look, and I can't do anything else but turn my eyes down.

Fuck -- I totally forgot about those selfies. It's quite obvious... "One of the reasons..."

"Tell me all about it!"

I tell her what happened at the fruit stand, but Shelly isn't that easily fooled.

"That's a horrible story, but what about the girl!?"

I hesitate, and Shelly pulls out her strongest card. "You know my secret, so it's only fair to tell me yours as well."