Trout brown scales of water slip down the road to form churning lakes of tea whereever the ground levels out. The garbage filled canyons that criss cross town are now turned to a writhing, muscular flow of chocolate milk. Peals of thunder ring out throughout the day, making it tempting to spend your days dramatically laughing for effect. Now and then the sun comes out for a steamy interlude.
The rainy season in Addis has a rather fearsome reputation, and indeed an awful lot of water falls from the skys, pours along every surface and jets out of the overfull storm drains. But now I have new shoes it's really not too bad; there's a lovely fresh look when the rains stop and the clouds pinken at sunset. The lightning can really come in handy as well, like when you're going home late at night through a district with a power cut in a taxi whose lights don't work.
Plus my life here is pretty amazing. Our cook Ziggy is amazing, plus she makes my bed, washes the dishes and does my laundry! I can't believe domestic servants went out of fashion in Britain. I do occasionally feel guilty and try to help but she really tells me off - I never do it the way she likes. She's also an awesome person though a little possessive of her kitchen. I help her son with his homework and he flounces around singing the interminable Ethiopian hymns which I don't feel is a true repayment.
My housemate is sound - his name is Jason and we get on well. He was a bit of a wildman in his time but has settled down now, and he has good taste in music. The whole Addis crowd is pretty cool as well; I've had some good nights out with them. It's certainly nice having a crowd of rent-a-friends to hang out with, though rest assured they don't compete with The Real Thing. I think the problem is that if you have a genuinely interesting job that makes the world a better place then you tend to focus on it to the exclusion of being a bit of a fucknut, and where's the fun in that?
There just doesn't seem to be that many people I can bounce off of, but that may be do to the fact I'm being slowly weaned off red wine. Suddenly getting to South Africa doesn't seem like such a bad option: will I finally come to terms with Pinotage?
The scene in Addis generally revolves around Bole Rd, an anywhere road which stretches its modern flats, good restaurants and expensive bars down airportwards. Some of them have live music, though there's a real lack of good drummers, and a night of purported Ethio Jazz was
very lame - Death Ray Trebuchet were far better. Check out their Gypsy/Ethio Punk if they're in your neighbourhood soon. Sometimes the bands play 70 covers of tunes you'd throw up to back home, so it isn't really worth it. Only the Reggae bands are really much cop, as long
as they don't go into an extended tribute to Bob. The other joint everyone heads to is the Geez Bar, down some dodgy (though perfectly safe - it's Addis!) backstreets and beloved by Faranjis becuase the beer is only twice the normal price, not five times. It's owned by some French people and heavily populated by la Francais - I spent my first evening there deep in onversation with Julie Delpy, probably. I was already a bit monkeyed when I got there.
Some Faranjis did put on a good night up in the old Piazza, which was wicked. I was meeting a German friend up there and he didn't know the area well, so we agreed to meet at the biggest landmark - St George's church. He was a bit late so I was hanging round the main gates with
all the usual pilgrims kissing the wall, crossing themselves and mumbling prayers. One chap approached from the shadows with a vigourous "Seulam no!" [Hello].
After swapping greetings he just lingered near me for a few minutes, before leaving and promptly being replaced by another fellow. In fact, friendly guys kept on approaching me for about twenty minutes until I started getting suspicious. There's always that feeling of "Maybe I'm reading this wrong - this could just be one of those cultural missapprehensions", but my suspicions were brought somewhat to a head when I went to look for a payphone and one of them ran after me and asked me "Do you want six?"
When I finally bumped into my friend, it turned out he'd been approached in a similar manner, and it seems that Addises holiest site is also the main hang out for its Rent Boys. Which given there's No Gay Africans makes you wonder how they earn a living. We proceeded to a local bar where a prostitute accidentally grazed my knee about 50 times in the most forward display I've ever seen out here, whilst we listened to bizarre 80s Ethiopian music. Think Phil Collins with
exclusively minor chords and major ululations.
But the main Faranji DJ event was actually awesome - as much as I love (old) Ethiopian music it was really good to dance to loads of good old Western stuff. The DJs were pretty good and I would have had a really good night there even had it been back home. It did get me missing
the old house party scene.
Rest assured it's not all partying though, the writing is ongoing. Typically I spend the days with power at home writing, and the days without in the lobbies of expensive hotels using their free Wifi and power. The novel's going alright,
* see bottom* though I'm running out of descriptive things from my trips to Poland previously and am having to focus on 'plot' (booo!) and dialogue/characterisation (yay!) until I can make a return visit to the land of constenant conjunctions and very flat. This is making me think I should postpone the India trip, and come back once I get fed up with Africa but still have some cash left, sometime next year.
I'm actually thinking of doing a bit of volunteering at Care International (where Jason works): just a couple of days a week but will be good to 'give something back', as if the Ethiopians haven't
taken enough already! I fear it may be a bit of a shock to be gainfully employed again but I can always quit and go back to writing if it gets a little much.
Anyway, this e-mail is already seriously out of date so I shall send this one now, and split the rest into another 2, to start the catch up and save you from reading fatigue. Still got the Omo tribes trip and my travels with parents
*see bottom* to write up, and in a week I'll be off to Yemen. Busy busy busy! For someone with no job. Blimey. Keep smiling one and all,
Simon
Note 1 Simon said he planned to write two books whilst out in Ethiopia, one fiction and one philosophical. I'm not sure which one hes writing, or if both have blended lol
Note 2 His parents (Ds dad and step mum) have gone out to Addis to spend two weeks with him. I look forward to an email all about it from their perspective in a few weeks!
