by: MT

She was no relative of mine, no kith nor kin, but we were "zemed" nonetheless. Zemed without genetic ties, just of the generic type. Kiddie! Short for Kidane, short for Kidane-Mariam, short still for Anchi-Kidaneee??!! She was a kissing kin to whom our home was home through young adulthood and beyond. Home to her parents, too, who, like the nearest of the near of kin, were there in our home more than we were in our home! And then we crossed the great divide, the ocean, and settled in a land where zemedE nech won't do. Anachronistic and fara-like! As one of the first signs of assimilation, we quickly dropped the "zemed " and adopted cute and all-encompassing "cousin." "Kidane? ... Inde, issuama kazinE eko nech!"

In the Ethiopian Diaspora, "cousin" has been usurped by our own AmariNa to connote the general notion of: "kinda-zemed-like-ufff-atadrqeN !" If Kiddie were a real cousin, Igziabhern kind of a cousin, she would accurately be: "Yachi menqara? Inde, issuama yakistE lij eko nech!" And, should some unimaginative friend of Ethiopian origin, stranger to his own Ethiopian origin, inquire about my blood-ties with Kiddie confusing "kazinE" with the English "cousin," the appropriate response can only be: "Listen buster! I don't have an English cousin!"

Silezih, Kidane kazinE nech, if you don't mind! It works very well for me! If it doesn't work for you, why, it's because your English is getting in the way, thwarting a meaningful relationship with Kidane, who could easily be your kazin, too. And so, if only you were not given to taking things in their literal sense, you, too, would have been invited to her wedding...like I was invited to her wedding. See?

It was 2 A.M. when Kiddie stepped out into the bustling lanes of illustrious Adams Morgan. She walked down the street a piece before she found a cab and flopped down on the back seat kicking off her shoes to iffoy her aching feet. "Tena ysTilN," the driver greeted. "Tena ysTilN," she said, adding, "Skyline, please." At last! On her way home to the famous Skyline, home to more than its share of Abesha, whose popular hangout was the aptly named Abesha restaurant nearby: The ehSkyline Café... "Ke-work new?" the driver asked. "Awo." The chauffeur's license on the dashboard bore his name in screaming letters: Mandefro-oooo! He quickly proved to be a man of self aggrandizing u-u-ta. No pride and pleasure in what he did, just pleasure in what he made doing what he took no pride and pleasure in. In near denial of what he did even as he was doing it, he insisted that he was really "between jobs," that familiar disclaimer. He then worked in the usual "mastrEtEn yiZalehu" by way of setting the record straight lest poor, exhausted Kidane, uppity waitress she, think she was dealing with a lightweight.

No one's dummy, Mandefro! He was a man of consequence, who had the foresight to invest in scholarly pursuit and had his mastrEt to show for it. Four years of graduate school followed by four years of being in possession of a four-year-old-brand-new-mastrEt. Never used! But she was a woman who asked for nothing more than a quiet ride home; home to the Skyline Apartments, across the street from ehSkyline Café . . . . Ahh, so typically an ET-man! Beset by Hamlet's old dilemma "to be or not to be" what he already is! ( If you don't make it, f--- it ? Nahh, if you don't make it, fake it! ) A piece of work, the ET-man! Defined by his perception that he is what he is perceived to be and not what he really is, because "is" is really not "is" thanks to Clinton's hypothesis.

And so it was that, once he staked out the higher ground with an odd mixture of undue bravado and a sense of embarrassment thinly veiled, spin-doctor-Mandefro felt confident enough to launch into a friendly banter...from a position of preeminence. Through his grandiose façade, Kiddie saw a familiar timidity, an undercurrent of vulnerability concealed behind a wall of atirsuN-defense. There was an edge of sweetness about the man. As their eyes met in the rear-view mirror, for the briefest of brief moments, Kiddie felt a warm sensation of abedku indE magnetism. As if on cue, pleased-with-himself-Mandefro then issued the standard ET pick-up-line: "gn eko, yemawqish meseleN." Hmmm, an invitation to possibilities, albeit on the heels of an inauspicious start. Oh, hell, why not, there was no harm in him!

The ehSkyline Café Mandefro in a pair of shiny dress slacks, smartly set off by a pair of brand-new sneakers. Shirt and tie nicely outlined behind a hugging crew-neck sweater of yimuqeN-design under bede---mmb yimuqeN-polyester-coat. This was a date to end all dates. It was obvious he had not taken any chances. Dressed to kill! Freshly-creased, shiny dress slacks? Nice! Even a nicer touch, the brass pin in his lapel, the cupped hand of United Way's famous emblem. An ingenuous scheme of seduction! A serious effort to blend in with Kiddie's fantasy! When Kiddie arrived a moment later, she took one look at his serious effort and seriously realigned her fantasy!

His fantasy? Emancipation! From thoughts of that bTasham! Relentless thoughts of treason, of letdown and deception. In Kidane, he sought to find redemption, his vindication, in the wake of the heartbreak he had suffered at the hands of that bTasham! Sure, over time, his anger had fallen away, but he still hadn't closed the book on her, his import-bride, not with people still talking...incessantly! In his mind's eye, he had often replayed how enamored he had been of the bTasham, young enough to be his daughter and so beautiful! Home to rob the cradle he had gone. To meet her, his bride-to-be. The self-appointed matchmaker, his mom, had assured him of the girl's proven decency. "Ayn affar!" Hah! DinqEm ayn affar! Qoi gdelEm!

Oh, how she had filled his dreams of a wholesome union! A union with a wholesome girl, untainted, unadulterated by the frenetic pace of this here pathetic life. And how elated he had been; that day, that cursed day, when she, his child-bride, had arrived to end his days of solitude! He had been careful not to stifle her, and had sought to shore up her confidence by encouraging her to explore. And so, weroch alfew weroch siteku, exploring she had done! beTam! Soon, young men had looked at her, and had then looked at Mandefro. She too had looked at them, and had then looked at Mandefro. And Mandefro had simply looked, looking every bit like Mandefro! Old! Things had not looked good for good-old-Mandefro! The squabbling had begun. Soon, in the tiny one-room-studio, she had grown tired of seeing him in the same spot all the time. And so, she had decided to move on. To move in with a kazin! What kazin, yemn kazin ?... "uff atadriqeN-kinda-kazin!"

Over dinner at ehSkyline Café, Kiddie got a kick out of Mandefro. As first dates went, he was no crushing disappointment. His idiosyncrasies, unblemished by years of exposure to "Ms. Manners," struck a familiar chord. Long finished with his godin-Tibs while her kitfo was barely touched, he dug a finger deep into the crevice of his mouth to dislodge a piece of meat embedded between his teeth while, dead in his contorted face, the toothpicks on the table stared him. He then introduced a technique, culture-specific and effective which, combined with the burrowing into the mengaga, would prove to work like a miracle. He puckered up his lips and sucked! Mercilessly, loudly, he took to sucking! Through his teeth sprang a sequence of musically invalid notes, an amalgam of sounds, a cross between the chirping of a cricket and the squealing of a pig followed by an extended asssssssey as he swept out the meat-fragment now successfully extricated! Temesge---n!... On the tip of a finger-nail, the launching pad, the piece of meat was placed. Strategically! Then came the launching part. Using thumb for leverage, the MandE-particle was flung c-l-e-a-r across ehSkyline Café's dining room! And Kiddie chuckled. They were off to a thrilling start!

Happy times. Kiddie and Mandefro felt connected. With the passing of the months, each fell in step with the other's yearning for a relationship with yager-lij. A relationship where lovemaking was in AmariNa and intimate moments were momentous, intimately filled with intimate chatter in uncensored AmariNa! Newly coined AmariNa, born of the heat of momentous moments, comprehensible to no one else but lovers caught in the heat of one such moment:

"KiddiyEEEE...gidlE-gumuzguazEn senefeTshiw---wwww!"

(Translation: "You take my breath away, Kid!")

" MandiyEEEE...debza-magerEn shemeTeTkew--www!"

(Translation: "You too!")

If there was a proposal, Kiddie sure strained to hear it. For Mandefro, there was no other way to say it, but to say it the only way he knew to say it. Don't say it as if it were something to say. If marriage itself was his call, then proposing was uncalled-for, a non-event in and on itself. Leave out the hubbub and go straight to the arrangements. "T'dya-aaaa, izih inargew weyiss AddisAba?" Cute, how MandE built up his proposal all out of proportion like that! Kiddie was terribly flattered. Somewhere there, masked by his ill-timed g'r-g'r was an offer of marriage. But mTs! Neither her resounding "yesss" nor a statement in her own defense was required.

Kiddie shared the news with Azeb, her friend, albeit her worsest critic. Unimpeachable Azeb, an embodiment of beauty and formidable brains who, for all her stellar accomplishments, whiled the lonely days away cooped up in her high-rise condo holding out for the ultimate soul mate...an ET-man. A dubious prospect indeed since her complexity had complicated her out of serious contention. Qualified for partnership at the corporate law-firm? Sorry! Disqualified from seeking partnership with an ET-man on account of being qualified for partnership at the corporate law-firm! Sure, she had every right to her fearsome intellect, but ET-men, too, reserved the right to stay clear of her fearsome intellect! Delicate in manner, Azeb was not! No hemming-and-hawing with Azeb. Upon hearing of Kiddie's imminent marriage, she worked herself into a fit. "Noooo-wayyyy! So-very-abso-fucking-lutely-no-wayyy you're gonna get hitched to this... this garden-variety-taxi-deeewed!". . .Shell-shocked Kiddie quietly wondered if her friend had finally lost it. mTs! What did "garden" have to do with it? YihEw eko new iwqet sibeza!

In due time, lone-dissenter Azeb succumbed to her friend's constant badgering; she even acquiesced to an assignment as a bridesmaid... along with seven others. The honor of maid-of-honor went to the ubiquitous Debritu (zefenm tichilalech). She had made a name for herself in many a wedding circle with her demonstrated talent to liven up people's weddings. At an Abesha wedding, guest-ss could not be trusted to have a good time on their own. Without Debritu to nudge them, they were a bunch of miqeNoch, who refrained from having a good time at a wedding just so they could, later on, sneer at somebody's yetelefabet wedding! After all, a wedding was seldom about two people being wedded and was instead about what folks said about the wedding.

In their humble home in Kebena, QeNach Shifferaw and Woizero Beza Deginet were thrilled to see their names embossed in golden lettering on the card... .inviting guests they had never known...to share in the joy of their daughter's marriage to some Mandefro they had never met...at a place they had never been! Arlington! Kiddie had sent them the invitation-card as a keepsake, which they passed to each other back and forth for close, and one more close inspection. Woizero Beza Deginet wistfully ran her fingers across the golden silhouette of the white bride on the card. mTs!

Woizero Beza: "Ere lemehonu, antu QeNazmach, Kidane Washington new mtnorew allalum?...Tadyaaa sergun Arlington temibal sifra mn wesedew?

QeNazmach: "Ay, anchi demo! Neger aygebashm! Arlington killilu new inji yaw Washington malet new!"

Woizero Beza: " Indet, QeNazmach?"

QeNazmach: " Alkush eko, mn nekat isswa-aaa? Arlington malet iNa Aqaqi indeminilew new! Beseqa yelem? Beqa!... Aqaqi Beseqa malet new."

Woizero Beza: " Hmmm! Ayyy... Beseqa kehoness qirb new."

Meanwhile, back in Beseqa . .er . .in Arlington, ladies of Abesha descent descended into depression over...oh, what to wear to Kiddie's wedding! ...Let's see, I wore this to Fifi's wedding, and this to Tati's, and this to Nanni's! Damn!...And hither and yon, ladies with a closet-full of dresses, scampered to buy yet one more dress for Kiddie's wedding! Given the likelihood that Fifi's wedding-list was also Nanni's wedding-list was also Tati's wedding-list was also Kiddie's list, ain't no way in Abesha-land that any self-respecting Abeshit would be caught wearing the same dress twice and risk becoming noticeable. She had to get that brand-new outfit so she could become unnoticeable! Wearing Fifi's dress at Nanni's wedding and Tati's dress at Kiddie's wedding as if you were still at Tati's wedding was aygebam, unless you were Ivy-Leaguer Azeb! She, Azeb of Bernstein, Bernstein & Azeb was the only one excused! She could get away with it, because everybody knew she could afford it!

On the morning of the wedding-day, bright and early, close friends (and not-so-close acquaintances voted ajabi on the basis of the kind of cars they drove) joined the groom's procession. Led by sleek and slender limousines, the German-car commercial then wound its way down USA-Boulevard and into some upscale suburb to pick up mushirit! . . Mushirit, of course, was "coming out" of an old friend's house in an upscale suburb designated for "coming out" since it was in an upscale suburb. She could not "come out" of her own apartment, because friends and acquaintances in the entourage who, by virtue of being friends and acquaintances, knew she lived in an apartment would talk about her "coming out" of some damn apartment!

When the groom and his excessive backup descended on the quiet neighborhood, white folks kept a safe and prudent distance from the gang of good-looking Negroes and watched. They knew of the proverbial musical nature of Negro-folk. Shoooot, on occasion, they had even liked-ed Whitney Houston. But damn! What they saw and heard at the entrance of their neighbor's house was pandemonium! Debritu (zeffenm tichilalech), yefelegechwn bitichil, was no damn Whitney Houston! She led a mob of violent women in a musical argument; a violent rendition of "Anasgebam berun'ih sergeNawin'ih!" She had what it took, that rare God-given knack for ayn-awTanet that bordered on bilgina, to throw her ample hips into the open doorway while fiercely screech-spitting anasgebam-mnamin all over the groom's entourage to stop the groom from picking up his bride! As the four-month-old wedding plan so unequivocally called for! An unexplained paradox! Go figure! Demo zefen tichilalech! E-r-e-w-e-d-i-a-l-i-NNNN?!

The groomsmen were far more reasonable. Their approach to gaining entry was as sensible as The Debritu Blockade was absurd. They began to negotiate, uh, by breaking into their own sadistic "CHessE!" A confounding non-sequitur about kicking up some dust that was the farthest thing from "Lemme in, baby, pleeeease lemme in!"

The girls: "Anasgebam beruni mushirawni-iiiii!"

The boys: "CHessE, abwaraw CHessE! Aha!...ere CHessE!"

In full view of witnesses (open-mouthed white men with cell-phones at the ready) ET-men began to push. In what would hold up as a clear-cut case of physical abuse in any court of law, they then thrust their bodies into the throng of panting women and trampled them to death! CHessE, abwaraw CHessE! By way of an apology, the Best Man then whipped out a bottle of perfume and began spritzing it generously over Debritu and cohorts. While Debritu leapt high into the heavens to catch a squirt of the free perfume (bederetwa), Azeb leapt back with alarm! But...indayqeribat b'lo, the Best Man came at Azeb perfume in hand! Uh, oh! Biqerbat yishal neber! She fixed a cold and chilling stare dead in his happy face! The Best Man froze! "Look, deeewd,"she said frigidly: "Lemme clue you in on something here! . . I know, I just know you ain't about to friggin' spray me with no friggin' Aramis!"... .Later, during a lull in the moment, the Best Man whispered to the groom: "Yachi Tenqwai Tebeqa TemdaNalech!"

His Holiness Aba Finote-Selam Mintesinot of Something or Other Tewahido Bete Kristian, a spindly man in a multicolored vestment, a golden cross emblazoned on his qob of West-African Kinte-cloth, bore before him a gleaming cross of intricate design as he stealthily emerged out of the cloud of burning incense. The clish-clashing of home-made cymbals and the high-voice-chanting of part-time deacons who, on less clerical occasions, were seen parking cars in Adams Morgan, stopped as abruptly as it had started. Aba at the microphone as the Master of Ceremonies! "Ehem . .One, two, sree-eee, yisemaaal?" He then launched into a sermon with all the features of a marriage-counseling, long before the marriage was consummated much less require counseling! And, on a high note, the lengthy sermon ended. As required by age-old custom, Kiddie entered that famous pledge, irrevocable, that she would do her husband's bidding! "Itazezewalehu! Agelegilewalehu-mmmmm!"... And I (remember me?) looked furtively across the aisle. In the women's section stood my wife; my blameless wife, oh, so holier-than-thou! Atalay! Once upon a time, mTs, she too had spoken those very words! Irrevocable? Don't bet on it!...To wrap things up, the virgin-choir of MTV-adolescents began to sing. In quasi-religious Hip-Hop-style, they whirled, they shook, and whipped up the crowd's excitement! Just then, Aba came to the microphone again and slyly slipped in a plug: "Ehem . .one, two, sre-eee, yisemaaaal?... Ing'dih, aqim yalew begenzebu-uuuu, yelelewm begulbetu-uuuuuu . . Bete Kristian-wan merdat . .!"

The Big Day was underway! And folks, "Big-is-Better" hardwired in their brains, would say that this Big Day was Better, because it was Bigger than all the Big Days before it! 600 guests invited with 200 more self-invited! Thus, the huge reception hall, chosen for the overflow space it provided. It was also a hall that boasted a dcor of up-to-standard taste festooned as it was with the glitter of Kiristmass! ("Kiristmass": ETermed to mean the same as garland! Usage: "That pole over yonder looks bare! Zerihun, go wrap some Kiristmas around it!") And so, the Cultural Center for Balkan Studies was aglow in vivid colors. The kEk, an ornately decorated four-foot figure of confection with a four-figure price-tag, provided an all-important focal point! A towering white elephant! Guilty! As charged...with maxing out the credit card.

At 6 P.M., from the honeymoon suite at the Ramada-Inn, the Best Man called ahead to the Center of Balkan Studies. He was dumbfounded to find that a handful of peculiar guests, who had misconstrued the "six-o'clock" on their invitation card as really meaning "six-o'clock," had shown benessu bet on time! (Besaq limot !)...About an hour later, the Best Man called again to see if guests had shown up in sufficient numbers. Conscious of dignity, he knew it wasn't cool for bride and groom to walk into an "empty" hall. But, unbeknownst to him, guests too had called ahead to see if guests had shown in sufficient numbers! They too knew it wasn't cool for them to walk into an empty hall! Inde, mnew? They too were conscious of dignity!

At nine o'clock, SeTeN's mellifluous "muuuu-shiiii-raaa-yyyEEE" heralded the approach of mushroch! An excited murmur of "meTu, meTu" rose among the famished guests! And wearing their trademark ET-smile, in walked bride and groom. A grateful crowd rose to its feet and greeted them with an applause synchronized to SeTeN's solemn melody! Behind the mile-long trail of Kiddie's gown, the nearest bridesmaid trailed a mile behind. Slowly and gracefully, bride and groom sauntered to their throne, behind which stood the heavy folds of their beloved bandira! . . For a fleeting moment, Kiddie's thoughts drifted to Woizero Beza Deginet. If only she were here to see! Mushrit fought back the tears that briefly welled up in her eyes! (Awww!) And Mandefro? His thoughts too drifted for a fleeting moment . .to that bTasham! If only she were here to see! Just then, he stole a glance at the pricey kEk, slowly dissolving around the fringes. And like mushrit, he too fought back the tears that quickly tightened in his chest! (Awww?)