And more music

Ever heard of Dub Clossus? It is a mix of great musicians. You have Tsedenya, known mostly as a pop artist but plays jazz quiet comfortably too. Samuel Yirga, a fine pianist. I wish there were more like him – who take old Ethiopian songs and jazz it up. Sintayehu does Azmari songs. I like her songs but after meeting her in person I liked her more. There is Gash Feleke Hailu a well known sax player (to say the least). I think I first saw him in person when I went to Yared Music School to take my probably first ever music lessons (come to think of it I am worse than I was back then). There is of course Nick, who got them all together. Yetebareke. He commands the base guitar well. Here is one song from their first album, A Town Called Addis. As I always say, you need good speakers to appreciate the music. Laptop speakers and other crappy speakers have poor response to bass. And dub music is nothing without bass.

I saw Mesfin Abebe on a video of one of his recent songs. After all these years he doesn’t look as aged as you might expect. Well done man! Students, see what music does to you?

we were sitting down; then I got shot down.

I did not plan it that way. It was to be just two friends, having dinner, addressing non-amorous issues.

You remember the girl from here, and here.

Night starts well, except maybe for the waiter denying me my choice, twice, until I settle on fish goulash. Thank Heavens fish are not made out of cheese!

She is going through a rough patch and I am trying to comfort her. Animo! for everything is going to be alright before she knows it. It is just another hurdle that she has got to clear. Advise her against making rash decisions; no drastic decision on her part is needed right now –just let things run their course no matter how bitter.

Me on the other hand, I tell her it is on me to make a change in my life, to make decisions.  I let her in on my much publicized plans. She says change is well and good but what if moving does not bring the sought after effect in my life? Whatever it is that is missing in my life, why can’t I focus on achieving it where I am, instead of leaving it to kilometers and new surroundings to do the work?

Why don’t I try to change myself instead of  hopping from place to place?

I tend to muddle things up in all facets of my life. I hardly give satisfying answers to the easiest of questions. What makes this even more difficult  is that she has got the potential to be part of the answer. So the way I do whenever such questions are hurled my way, I equivocate.

“Is there  something preventing you from…”

Is she asking if I was gay?

I tell her about this killer classification of sexual preferences which I came across recently: hetero-, homo-, bi-, trisexual (as in those people who are trying to have sex) I fall in the last group. But my problem is double-layered. I am not very good at (it is an over exaggeration; which way, take a guess) telling girls that I like them. And even if I succeed  in  overcoming  that, then comes the little issue of that the girl may end up hurt because when I said I liked her, I was not being totally honest (with her and myself)  and I was only after that thing.

She says there is little chance the girl is going to get hurt if both of them talk it through and know full well what they are getting themselves into. If there is attraction then …

Did I say that she is looking particularly ravishing this evening? And no, I am not drunk.

Some more equivocation; statements like “for example, you and me, we are friends, sister and brother… would you say that there is attraction between us? …” and then it came.

Damn you one! It should not be such a hard thing to do!

Yet it was hard.

I am putting all my cards on the table. On second thoughts, that is not such a good  idea because something from down under is threatening to topple the table and… What I am trying to say is me so horny; let’s blow this place and get a room. Jonz in my bonz baby!

Are you asking me for …


It seems everyone from my mother to my students (as inferred from this year’s crop of comments) is not a fan of meselegne, meselegne  😀

Is you crazy?! I would never say that to a girl!

I am more like that person who would beat around the bush, deliver a treatise on sex and its evolving role in human interactions since prehistoric times, when it was used as a means of holding down a man who can be trusted to bring in the meat every night; and ask a girl to join me in  a dance of life, a tradition, that has started so long ago that it would be a damn shame and plain rude to refuse to partake in; and no, in the case of humans, in this day and age, it does not have to be a tool for the mere perpetuation of the species and it can go a long way in brightening up the days and nights of a lonely boy who is going through postpartum depression owing to the end of classes and his kids being on break. He has got a hankering for some action because he returns back to the humdrum life of taking care of yet another batch real soon.

I did neither. Nor do I have a clear recollection of the bullshit I spewed. A clear recollection demands that things be done and said in a clear manner in the first place. And like I tried to point out earlier, I don’t do clear.

But I clearly remember me asking her if we could spend the night together and she saying “not tonight’’. I could have acted a fool and pursued the matter like “how about tomorrow? the day after? is next week good for you? TSom sifeta? Meche new, zare new nege new…? Cuando cuando cuando girl?!”  Pull out a calendar and start marking dates and shit.

(In every version of the story, it has been decided that it is better to buy the condoms from the store next to the place where I am going to lay her down, Usher voice. I left the condoms I bought for good luck at home, because they did not seem to bring luck. Funny story: the vender must have me on associate; at another time, I was asking him for Crest toothpaste and he handed me Hiwot Trust.)

But I opted to safe face; give the impression of someone who has taken rejection in his stride. I declare that this was exactly the reason why I am loath to doing  this; that men and women look for different things in a sexual encounter (Whoa whoa whoa! Speaking for the entire male species now are you?!) She assuages my expressed fear that this won’t put a blemish on our friendship (or brotherly sisterly relationship was it?) I try to make light of the situation by asking her to rate the skills exhibited in my sexual advances toward her. She gives me 51/100 (good enough, if you are trying to take control of a board of directors 😉 tells me to work on clarity. She thought I was talking about global warming. I concede to her, given that I spend eight days a week in school, my game could use a little polishing, sharpening, overhaul, tearing down and reconstruction, … (Now you are just a disgrace to the species!)

She had been in a relationship which reached a cul-de-sac. Now she has decided to put a hold on relationships indefinitely. She fears disease and unplanned pregnancy (condoms, hello!) and believes that the Lord frowns upon casual (Oh well)

It is getting late and I tell her that we can leave –in five minutes; I had to put in order my affairs down south. It took a minute.

Later, over a cold shower, I would be pondering the possibility of me slipping on the wet floor, hurting my something, and her being consumed by regret when someone breaks the news to her (because I won’t be able to move by then): it was her fault that I was in the cold instead of inside of her.

Get out of the shower and I find a missed call from her. Hypotheses abound. Decide to call her in the morning because she would be asleep by now.

Next morning: she wanted to check if I had arrived home safe. Of course.

The long and short of it is I got shot down miserably and it felt bood.


hassab flakes ii: now with (two) pics

Blogger’s block man! It is like my mind is dying for fiber. So screw cohesiveness; I have never had it to begin with it; I’ll just let it hang all out, the way I did before.

The carton of Fafa Cornflakes states that their product is rich in energy (sure it makes you start the day strongly; only to leave you stranded at around 10 AM), calcium (bones), protein (building) and dietary fiber (for good digestion) Beats me why they use a bigger font for “dietary” instead of  “fiber”. Every time I hear Munit and Jorg do an old number, I just have got to go and listen to the original song. Cases in point. Tiz Alegne YeTintu, Tilahun and Ene Wisheten New, Menelik. It’s a compliment guys. A female external examiner is administering viva voce and I am doubling as the usher. Since the door of the office has to be locked because it is prone to be opened by the slightest of breezes, part of my job description for those four days is to lock the door after each student has taken their seat in front of Madam Terrible (I’m just exaggerating.) Once the grilling is over, the two of us notice student after scarelieved-out-of-his/her-wits student struggle with the door. We decide to conduct an experiment: we compare the number of female vs male students that have it in them to unlock the door without us telling them that the door is locked. Girls 3 – Boy (boy oh boy!)  1. Although the whole group did not participate in the study, bear in mind that we had 11 females in a class of almost 80 kids. Our findings were very much to the liking of my guest; plus it coincided with March 8.  I have been having trouble “feeling” my phone on vibrate. People got mad at me for not answering their calls; I spent a lot calling them back. So now it is instrumentals: Oh Yeah, Foxy Brown (54-46 was My Number, Toots and the Maytals) for incoming calls and Da Rockwilder, Redman and Methodman (the shortest song ever!) for incoming texts. Most neighborhood souqs in Bahir Dar come in the form of cavities hollowed out of residential compounds. The shopkeepers are usually busy in the main house, doing this or that chore, that a customer may have a hard time calling them and getting served. Last night I was almost  tempted to steal  a couple of tomatoes from this deserted shop whose owners are hard-of-hearing. Or it may be that I am hard-of- speaking.  Tomatoes are good for sweaty feet. Books I am trying to read: Que Yo Se De La Biblia (Started it last year); Devil on the Cross (I should finish it by the end of this year); Memoirs of a Geisha (I can’t help but think of dear old Oshin); One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest; Imitation of Christ (My father’s favorite.)  I need to call my mom. I recently finished reading Atonement. For some strange reason, I used to think it was about the Irish people and their issues with the British. A thought from the book that has stuck with me and which, I dare say, has crossed my mind in some form before: 

But wasn’t she—that was, Briony the writer—supposed to be so worldly now as to be above such nursery-tale ideas as good and evil? There must be some lofty, godlike place from which all people could be judged alike, not pitted against each other, as in some lifelong hockey match, but seen noisily jostling together in all their glorious imperfection. If such a place existed, she was not worthy of it. She could never forgive Robbie his disgusting mind. 

If I have my way and write a poem about it, the first verse would be  “It  is not a fucking game!” DMX voice. I mean, why can’t we just wish each other good luck instead of trying to recruit people to the “winning team” at  the our best and at our worst, giving them hell on earth for being part of  the losing team? And yay! I finished reading Shakespeare’s (or as Sibhat would call him, Tor Neqniq’s) Julius Caesar on the ides of March. Soft, ho! The president of the university thinks it a good idea to mingle with his subjects  fellow teachers at lunch in that disappointment of a staff canteen they call ToTawochu’s . For Heaven sakes man! Don’t descend to our level; pull us up. I checked all the windows if they were closed, twice; then I opened the door ready to leave; then turned back to check if the windows were closed –by staring at them. To be continued depending on my mood. Continued already

 Words to be found in Amharic English: delayance, failurity, …. Fuck paper cuts man! Now ideas are dribbling like urine.

And then it stops.


Post 333, that’s what’s up!!!

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