Addis Bus Stop
They are standing pressed against each other. He gently strokes her ass. She lovingly picks his nose. They make an island of loving serenity within a typical Addis created as a choke full bus arrives two hours late, and everyone insistently pushes and shoves to be the first to get at least an elbow into the bus.

they never speak. he waits to see her leave the house every morning. she does not seem to know he's there but gets agitated when he's missing. she goes back to not seeing him again once he returns. this has been going on for 15 years. they will never speak. ah, love, Ethiopian style!

She piles her tomatoes into neat piles at the sefer guleet. He comes by and knocks them down, pushing her aside as well. She yells out, "Ireff, ante!" as she picks up a large pebble and aims for his head. He ducks successfully, and saunters off, triumphant; "She wants me!" is the last thought on his mind

She sits at the foot of his bed gently stroking... gently scraping the fungus between his toes... Every now and then she stops to sprinkle white athelete's foot powder into her palms and rubs both hands around his right foot... .. rub-rub... CHemdedd... CHebbod... rub-rub... CHemdedd... CHebbod... The silky warmth and delicacy of her hands on his Qorfadda foot brings him to a silent ecstacy. He looks up to the ceiling as though he were thanking God for the fungus... "saideggis ayiTallam", he reapts in his head.

When the pastor invited all new comers to rise, he nervously suppressed her nudging elbow and stayed low. when the asrat bag came around to her and she gently dropped a crumple of dollar notes into it, he frantically fumbled in his pocket pulled out a dollar note and threw it in the bag and gently hauled the bag over his lap and onto his left...

"kibir lante," chants the program leader with the mike tucked under his armpits... eyes closed... arms strecthed sideways like a relfected Egyptian god.... "iyeeeessssssus... iyessssssus...," the whole ashebshabee crowd seems to rise and fall with the cadence of the serenade... "ssssssssss"... "yeeeeeeessusssss"... "sssssssssss."

She slides off her chair and kneels on the ground with head bent over the back of the seat in front. He nervously looks around... and stays put fixing his gaze stiffly towards the podium... Occasionaly, he steals a QoreTa glance as though afraid that she might, any minute, hurl herself backward with a scream... and start flailing in a frenzy like the 22 other people in the periphery of his vision...

As the program leader begins to tremble, the pastor walks upto the stage, and entreats, "isti inniQum wendim inna ihitoChE." As the crowd rises, she pulls herself up grabbing onto his hand... holds on to it tightly against her side, and lifts up her right hand in prayer... He reciprocates the grip with his right hand and follows suit with his left...