My first wekend in Addis Ababa

The past two days have comprised the first period of time where I have been able to just chill out, drop my responsibilities, and take a minute to look around me as a tourist rather than an unqualified teacher, but, in doing so, I continued to play the role of student. It is really amazing to be around people that have absolutely no possessions beyond what is necessary for survival. The difference between Ethiopians and Americans is similar to the difference between a bike and a freight train in the sense that Americans are constantly pulling a huge train of possessions behind them, so much that we all have a lot of diffuculty stopping to relate to and help each other, whereas Ethiopians have nothing weighing them down, making it easy for them to stop and listen to each other. Possessions really are a trade off. Where my life has been blessed in economic areas, it has been depraved in the sense that my upbringing has not really made me cognizant of man's humanity, which is so present here. People will instantly stop and talk to or help total strangers for hours on end. There is a kind of comradery here that just isn't around in America. For example, during the basketball game to which I went with Mastaol, I was curious why people weren't cheering for specific teams, and Mastaol told me "Ethiopians don't cheer for one team. They cheer for good plays. If a person makes a good play, even coach from other team will cheer." The highlight of cheering was when somebody missed a shot, and the crowd erupted into a unanimous applause. I asked Mastaol why and he said "because that pass that she made was so amazing." Again, inadvertant Daoism... nobody cared about the result (scoring points); they all just cared about the action itself (the game).After the game, I met up with the rest of the people from Cherokee because the water is off in many parts of Addis Ababa for the next few days (including our house), and we all desperately needed showers. We met at a beauty salon to get massages, into which we all smuggled in shampoo and shaving cream to use in our pre-massage shower. OK- so massages are awesome in third world countries. An expert massage followed by coffee and food outside, two hours of total awesomeness for $6.50. I guess the additional $73.50 in the average American massage goes to the protection of your ass. The Ethiopian massage conquered virgin territory in the massage world, probably even virgin territory in the real world. This lady massaged my ass as if it were my shoulder. I had five straight minutes of various ass-rubbing tactics. Anyway, during lunch Mastaol told me that I had shaving cream under my ear, following this statement with my first Habesha terrat (Ethiopian Proverb):Teroo guadenya mestaut no. (A good friend is a mirror.)This has sparked an unquenchable interest in Habesha terrat, which has only been slightly satiated by the five that I have been able to write down, which I will share with anyone who asks. Something about the Ethiopian/African accent seems so wise, so I think I am going to get video footage of some Habesha explaining these proverbs.We ate dinner that night in a resaurant called Paradise where we all had wine, appetizers, an excellent piano player, and top class food for about the price of a Chipotle meal (without a college drink discount). I had Nile Perch in some kind of mango sauce, which was by far the best meal I have had this summer when it comes to service and qualilty. Since Matt was not at the dinner, it was basically me with all the girls, and seeing so many American women always excites the Ethiopians. In one situation a man said to one of them "Hey sexy lady." To this I responded "Yih misteh no." (This is my wife). Then I said "Mistehochi" (They're all my wives) pointing to all the girls. He responded "And setine" (Give me one). To this I said, "Sintino" (How much will you pay?). Although it was obvious that this was all said with a joking manner, the girls here were shocked when I confessed that I had tried to sell one of them, but hey... dinner was expensive... I gotta get paid... and that's the way it is... that's just the way it is... things will never be the same... Funny thing, all the Ethiopians that are from 10 to 17 love Tupac, but all the Ethiopians my age love Celine Dion. Seriously, they are obsessed. If you ask any of them to sing the Titanic song, they will gladly butcher it for you.I'll go over sunday quickly so that I can get to bed. I went to the Emperor's Palace in Northern Addis Ababa with Abanezer and Benjamin. Benji and I ate for under a 88 cents (2 cakes and 2 macchiatos... probably would be 15 bucks in USA). The signs at the musuems here say "Habesha and birr; Farrenji acer birr" (Ethiopians, 1 birr; foreigners 10 birr). Feeling like a victim of one dollar's worth of racism, I said to the ticket man "Enhe tomas assay waga enda Habisha faligillo." (I wan't the same price as the Ethiopians). He responded, "Americana misteh faligillo" (I want an American wife). Then I said "Enhe Habisha machiatum Amharimya alloukum" which I thought meant "I am Ethiopian because I speak Amharic," but it actually means "I am Ethiopian because I don't speak Amharic." Benji laughed at me as I handed over the ten birr.The museum was interesting. It showed some of the idiotic and admirable qualities of Ethiopia's tribes, from ritualistic whipping of women before marriage to the protection of personal freedoms. Then I left and went to Abanezer's house for chat and tea. Chat is a chief export of Ethiopia which provides the country with about 100 million dollars a year. It is basically chewable pot. I chewed half of the typical dose and felt nothing but slightly dizzy, but I definitely intend to try the full thing, just once because Mrs. Stalk says "Try new things" (that's how my parents get my little sister to eat her vegetables... so I guess it will help me eat my greens as well)!During this "chill session" an 11 year old kid named Daniel popped in to Abanezer's house/room. People here are so funny in that they can be friends with everyone. Abanezer, a 23 year old, high fived the kid and said "This is my best friend. He knows everything about soccer." Since I was wearing my La U jersey from Peru, he thought I was a Manchester United fan. In fact, it is tough to wear a jersey here without everyone expressing their opinion of the team they think you are advocating with your clothes. Still, it started many conversations, and by the end of the day, 4 people had given me their phone numbers and invited me over for a coffee ceremony, which includes three very strong shots of coffee that supposedly leave first timers shaking by the end. I'll probably call a couple of them because I really can't get enough of the people here, and I wish there was something I could give them, but they seem lightyears ahead of me. Maybe, when I have learned enough from them, I will be mentally equipped enough to start repaying this debt of knowledge that I have incurred.