my latest stay in Addis Abeba

Saw B complex in a different light -from a teacher’s perspective. I imagined how it would be to do my thing in them halls. Tested the acoustics. The verdict – Beautiful! Fucking beautiful!!

The view from Adde’s office. Also sat in Acapulco (not shown)

Waffles and hot chocolate cake -La Parisienne

The Tripartite 

My brother stole him from me and gave it to his lady. Kind of reminds me of the time when my other brother stole my toy and gave it to his lady

My father owns a fleet of these cool pajamas; I was much obliged when he gave me one. My mother bought me a couple others. I don’t sound 29, do I? Well, I don’t care!

Songs sang in our home every year around the fire (Buhe, Enqutatash, Mesqel.) Couldn’t find the audio

Jumped on the bandwagon too late that my feet got dragged on the dust 

Plenty of yogurt; God bless (some)  lactobacillus!

Visited professors for recommendations. On an unrelated note, a recommendation from Teklewold Atnafu 

QuanTa -the newest addition to the team 

Saw my niece signal for her mother (my mother) to pick her up. A poignant moment, I almost wrote a poem about it. My hormones are playing havoc with me 😦

Speaking of writing poems (and whether I should be writing them), here is an excerpt from Anna Karenina:

Mihailov meanwhile, although Anna’s portrait greatly fascinated him, was even more glad than they were when the sittings were over, and he had no longer to listen to Golenishtchev’s disquisitions upon art, and could forget about Vronsky’s painting. He knew that Vronsky could not be prevented from amusing himself with painting; he knew that he and all dilettanti had a perfect right to paint what they liked, but it was distasteful to him. A man could not be prevented from making himself a big wax doll, and kissing it. But if the man were to come with the doll and sit before a man in love, and begin caressing his doll as the lover caressed the woman he loved, it would be distasteful to the lover. Just such a distasteful sensation was what Mihailov felt at the sight of Vronsky’s painting: he felt it both ludicrous and irritating, both pitiable and offensive.

It beats me why they leave the French as it is on English translations of Russian novels. Part 8, chapters 15 and 16 are an interesting read on individual vs public opinion (almost reminiscent of the brouhaha about The Dam.) Now reading Midnight’s Children and thoroughly enjoying it.

One

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Dope songs about dope Etyopians

My favorite song at the moment! The entire VCD is estupendo; makes you wanna get up and …

I have fucked with Agewigna music since way back, ever since the asheshewmele  and akelateyi (nefsuan yimarewina) days.

And that girl from the tewezawazoch, the one with the Key shash- man she done asheshewmeled her way into my heart! I think I’m in love.

Very educational too. I never knew that Dondor café was named after a waterfall in Chagni. I always felt that it was where the Ethiopian mafia hangout. And who knew that the Agew had sebat bet, just like the Gurage?

 The resemblance to ye Wolaytigna chifera, uncanny!

You have to see the whole thing!

You could say this particular VCD is balehulet ahaz

One day I had the misfortune of watching ETv. They were doing a report on the Teddy Afro concert and reporterachin egele egele goes, roughly:  “ Hagerachin Etyopia lalefut ametat balehulet ahaz yeeconomy edget sitasmezegib endeneber yitaweKal. Honom, yetewesenu wegenochin kedihinet lemalaKeK  altechalem. Lezihm yimeslal 🙂 tawakiw dimTSawi Tewodros Kasahun weym Teddy Afro “belimena menor yibKa”  yemil ye musica zigijit…

So why not bestow the title balehulet ahaz upon anything as remotely smashing as our sweaty economy?

Or else I could use about a hundred words of praise about the music and put an exclamation mark at the end- the way they write the slogans on the first page of Addis Zemen or the walls of some offices. If I were them, I would have put not an exclamation mark at the end but a tiny dump truck. Or better still, a garbage truck.

One

Tilish, you see I have adopted the “Etyopia”.

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