Web Page For The Young Ethiopian Professional. Volume I   Issue X


 

Table of Contents

Note from the Editors

The Mail

Top Ten

My Story

Bawza

Addis Rhapsody

House of Pictures

Life Diaries

CHilot Part 2

My Ethiopia

The HellHole Diaries

SELEDA Salutes

SELEDA Survey

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SELEDA e-mail update

 

My Story

Memories So, So Sweet…

By: Admas

It was August of ‘71. My buddy since the 3rd grade and I were on our way to America. One "farewell" party after another all summer long. Destination: Seattle, Washington. A friend of ours who was completing his last year in high school had made all the arrangements. The tourist visa was stamped (m argo tourist yelem!), and we arrived in Seattle on August 28th via Chicago.

Sea-Tac airport was only half way completed then. The friend who was supposed to pick us up was not there. Instead, his older brother, whom we had never met before, was there to greet us along with his American girlfriend. The brothers resembled each other a lot. Even from a distance, as he came towards us, we could tell he was our friend’s brother.

His girlfriend…we had no idea. So, indagerachin behal leT bilen ij bemensat, we shook her hands. She didn't know what to do with us but bow down. Real low, maybe even twice and shook our hands.

We got in the car. I accidentally touched a button on the armrest and what do you know? The window rolled down. Terrified, I pushed the button to the right. Peeeeeeeeeeew, the window rolled up. My buddy, who was sitting in the back with me half way in the middle moved towards his side of the window. There we were, in perfect synchronized harmony. Up all the way. Down all the way… . Rolling uuup half way, and then dowwwn. Go three fourths way uuup and then dowwwn. Wow!

Our amusement ended when we looked up and noticed our hosts giggling. It was fun while it lasted.

Then, there was the freeeeeeway! We always thought Churchill godana was a beauty for hot rods on any given Saturday night. Five or six of us would stack into a Baby Fiat 600, looking for girls. (God only knew where we would put them if they were willing to come along.)

We finally got to our temporary new residence. Our friend’s brother was staying in a duplex with two other college roommates. It was late in the evening, we were very tired and were only too happy to unload. A few minutes later, the girlfriend said she was going to McDonald’s and asked if we wanted some shakes. We didn't understand what she meant.

We simply stared at her blue eyes.

The brother, understanding the confusion smiled and said, “Ask them what flavor?”

The kind lady said we had a choice of vanilla, strawberry or CHOCOLATE. Ka- blamm! She hit the magic word. Our mind must have raced to chocolata keremela uncles and/or aunts who were given preferential treatment when they came to visit the family. The ones with chocolata keremela got the bigger hugs and kisses, no doubt!

Me and my bud screamed chocolata!!! Bam, there it was in a few minutes: two chokolata shakes. After the first few sips we knew we were onto something good. “Mmmmmmmm, beats having fun with the power- windows, huh?” said I to my ever adventurous abro adegé. He just nodded his head with the straw in his mouth. Inem afen b’straw Qolefkut.

To our dismay, we found out “neger CHerash” was in Washington DC to see his mom. Since most of her kids were in several different states, Emama had asked all the children to meet her in DC. Our astenagadge informed us he would be leaving in a couple of days too. They’d both be back in two or three weeks, and in the meantime we should acclimatize ourselves to the new country and get acquainted with his two new roommates, Jim and Chuck.

Jim and Chuck.

Jim and Chuck were real cordial to us, even took us to our first bowling alley one evening. They rented us the bowling shoes, and showed us the rules of the game. I was too busy staring at those comfy and colorful bowling sneakers…well, you know what I thought! But noooooooo - had to give them back when the game was over. I looked at my bud and knew the feeling was mutual.

Jim had even mentioned we could use his state-of-the-art (back then anyhow) albums and 45s - pre-CDs) stereo system any time we wanted too. When our amazed-and-glued-to- the-color-TV-set eyes needed a break, we were only too happy to put on Alemayehu Eshete's newly released 45 (Addis Abeba Bete and Eskista) to chase our blues away. (Or was the song, “Bombu FiQrish Befeneda, Lanchi Biyé Gebahu Ida”?)

Anyhow, it was time for our ingeda teQebai to go see his mom in DC. We were on our way to go to the nearest grocery store to get our supplies. The door slid open…we were at Safeway now. We were looking around in amazement, while astenagadge was shopping and showing us what to cook, what goes with what. If memory serves me right, I think that abro adegé and I spent a few extra minutes in the produce department, by the grapes …taste-testing, they call it?

Our host left the next day. My pal really surprised himself and moi with his spaghetti sauce. Next day we voted on spaghetti again. Spaghetti won 2 to 0 by a pan-slide. While he was making the sauce, he asked me to cook the pasta . Eager to oblige, I put the pot filled with cold water and pasta on the burner. It didn't turn out like the individual pasta I knew well. It came out looking like a white ye mesQel chebo: one giant pasta for mankind. Wondemoché! With all due respect, ine emama wend lij mad-bet, oops meant maed-bet ayegebam yalutin is to be taken with a grain of salt.

Anyhow, the season being summer and all, after the pasta feast we both felt like we could use something cold and sweet (ende Kyriazis ice cream).

We both got up and headed for the freezer. Ice cream was all gone. Noticed two cans with pictures of orange slices on them. Orange flavor ice cream? Must be, we agreed and grabbed two spoons and went back to watching "The Price Is Right".

We were almost through with our newly discovered delicatessen when Jim and Chuck got off from their respective summer jobs and returned home. They said hello, then as usual took their shoes off and sat on the couch with a beer in their hands. They looked at us then looked at each other, speechless. Jim came closer and took a good look at what we were nibbling at.

“My God, Chuck. Do you what they are eating!” Jim breathed hotly.

Then he screamed “What are we going to do?” while Chuck hurried into the kitchen and came back with two pitchers filled with water. “Drink, drink, drink!” both said pointing to the pitcher. We didn't know what had happened, but started drinking the water anyway.

We had splurged on was 100% concentrated, frozen, orange juice….Kezih yisewirachihu! Half a pitcher of water later, Chuck thought it would be a good idea for us to jump up and down, for the mix. (Hodé original blender aydelem yalew manew?)

Twenty some odd years later, it seems like we are all jumping up and down to get the perfect mix. Incidentally my partner in this yalemaweQ still my best friend in the world.


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