University: E pluribus Unum. (One out of many)

Part I

Ah! The feeling of being a college student in a country of 27,000,000. Imagine, the body languages expressed and the joy and happiness of being a student of the HSIU. All my dreams when I was at Menelik II School were “One Day” I will walk in and out through that gate that was forbidden to the many before me and to many after me. This is the cream of the crop. And I was one of them. When I was in Menelik the composition of the student body was from all classes including the ruling party children. But here at the university there were 14 of us from Menelik out of 60 students. Hey! Not from one classroom but from two classes of 12A and 12B. On the other hand schools like St. Joseph, Wingate, Nazareth and private schools in around Addis Ababa produced over 85% of their student Body. Many of who were children of the aristocracy. Who cares anyways I was one of the students. The joy of being a university student is expressed across the board without any class awareness. It was surprising to find so many from different schools, ethnicity, class and other issues to have an atmosphere of friendship, trust, goodwill and love amongst new groups of people. Once we finished orientations, class registrations and dorm assignments, for some strange reasons, we all became friends. Yes, to this day too. It was a generation of new era in the Ethiopians history. The traditional look of the University students is no more exhibited in the streets of Addis by these new freshmen. We did not have the uniforms to portray our status in public places. It was not that we did not want but it was never provided to us. Sure, if given I would have been the one who walked back and forth from Arat Kilo to Piassa. But who cared then; the whole Arat Kilo knew that I was in the University and most of my entire dear mother. Thanks for my dear mother who went all over the neighborhood to bull horned other mothers that her son alone was in the University.

Well, reader I am now a man of higher status. I moved to the dorm at the Arat Kilo campus specifically at the Asfaw Wosen Hall room 102. Oh! I did not tell you which college I chose to enroll. Yes, it was at the school of business. It was no joke half of the freshmen wanted to go to this school but to no avail. Of course my classes were at the main campus at Sidest kilo. There was no problem at the time to travel back and forth from either campus; there was a bus service to all campuses in my days. Jealous? I hope not. For some reasons that I never was aware of, the freshman years brought many of us to high level of friendship, maybe I better say comradeship amongst all students. It took a very short time to be acquainted and became friends. Ah! I wish I knew then what would happen to the many of my friends twenty or thirty years ago. The first three weeks of the University life back then were the times to taste our freedom and being independent of parental control. What else was there but for many students particularly who came from out of Addis and controlled environments to check the neighborhood and their manhood?
I guess it was not only entering the higher educational institution of the country but was also a time to lose their virginity. Certainly the right place was the Arat Kilo neighborhood. Ah! I forgot too, getting drunk without ever being noticed by parents.

Yes, all went well but what was important then was the education; and we all went into our nests to achieve our objectives with the exception of the weekends where we got wild and crazy in and out of the campus. To the surprises of the guards and the cooks in the campus these bunch of freshmen were nuts compared to middle-class minded students before us.

As I mentioned earlier I was assigned at Asfaw Wosen Hall where many of the residents were foreign students from Uganda, Nigeria, Somalia and Sudan. Some were our seniors and some were in the same year like we did. The presences of these foreign students were as educational for many of us in as much as the classroom education. However, the more we engage in these positive discussions the more we became aware of the backwardness of our own country. Imagine of such discussion as the number of cars in Lagos, Kampala and other cities, high-rising building and other modern constructions in bigger cities of Africa making us mad and crazy about ourselves. Back then the sole measurement of civilization in third world countries were definitely these factors. We can’t help but feel sad and disappointed with the then government of Haile Selassie. Our awareness was not limited to these facts but we were also from a generation of new era in the country. Many of us read advanced books, went to movies, and joined cultural institutions provided by countries of USSR, USA, Britain, Spain, France and other European countries including language classes. I want you reader to see the landscape of these times between these new freshmen and our predecessors. We came with knowledge what our country looked like and they were more or less little soldiers of fortunes. That was the main differences and can be obviously witnessed in their attitude towards us. Most importantly the age differences in the freshman years were two plus or minus years from the average student.

These groups of students were more or less casual wearers whereas our seniors were dressed businesslike. During the first semester we built quite a strong friendship and walled ourselves with common objectives pairing school work and strong political awareness. I really do not want to mention names to protect my friends but many of these students died as a result of their genuine beliefs for the betterment of Ethiopia. Before I go any further I would like to dedicate the whole subject of my university life to those who had fallen and victimized or whose whereabouts are not known such as; Mesfin, Tsegaye(Debteraw), Benyam, Yohannes, Mehari, Geleb, Tesfu, Martha, Tselote (my dear friend from high school), Seyoum K. (who died of extreme torture and inhuman abuse) and others. Yes, there are some who continued to struggle still living either inside or outside the country. At the same time all was not well with theses class of freshmen; some chose to murder and torture the Ethiopians people like Girma Kebede. I will continue to discuss the freshman year in the next part.

Me, I and myself

These were our school uniform. As you can see shoes were not requirement. The next article is going to cover a very senstive issue that might need name changes and exact timings. I am mostly going to depend on New York Times that had many articles written on issue concerning universities at the time. Bear with me for few weeks.

ARAT KILO THE CLOCK STOPPED AT 1:00, Part III

It was and is true there were many similarities in all neighborhoods. But for some reasons I believe Arat Kilo stood out loud and unique. The neighborhood had environmental effect. The effect of nature and nurture could clearly be noted in Arat Kilo. Let me go back and add to the previous parts some points on this neighborhood. Any and all things depend on the parental unwritten rule and regulations. There was a relationship that was so close that no bullying existed on the part of the older and bigger boys. One can stand and argue on his right without being abused by his counter part be he bigger or older. Every child was required to be disciplined and needed to act gentle in that particular neighborhood. Of course outsiders are exception to this rule provided none of the adults in the neighborhood were around.

Well the YMCA soon became the sanctuary of every child. Neither the young nor the adults really care for the cookies provided by Ms. Bishop. God! Were we tired of them? The new trend became indoor games. I remember in particular a game called Ludo, it was played on a board with a dice. Here was where mischief and malice existed without touching your opponents. The Y was opened from any time the first child arrived until the last child left. As mentioned above the indoor games were the attractions of every child. No one was left without having a game; but may not have a partner to play with. There were all kinds’ games including Chess, Chinese checkers, Checker, ping pong and other table games. Like all children the desire to continue to play the same thing again and again started to be boring. Of course the fatherly nature of Mr. Bishop sensed these behaviors and he started an outdoor games. The first two games he introduced were badminton and tennis. Classes were given every Saturday from nine to eleven. All used to be present for this instructional class and we seemed to be content about it. Then a new and never heard of Trampoline came to the scene. Lord! We all got to be in love with it. A lot of fear and a lot of risk taking were required to use this machine. For those of you who never heard of it, it is a resilient canvas sheet or web supported by spring in a metal frame and used as a springboard and landing area in tumbling. I hate to brag about it, but I used to be one of the best ones. In fact I had appeared in front of the emperor during the Red Cross Festivities.

Yes there is more about the YMCA. Mind you Mr. Bishop at the time was a goodwill ambassador and a true American. He seemed to know all kinds of sports but soccer. The more I keep thinking the more we all forgot about it. The outdoor game included baseball and American football. Yes, baseball and American football. Again the training for these two games was on Saturdays at the same time and place. After the training Mr. Bishop always went to his office leaving us alone to continue to play these games or other games before. But the problem now was that soon as he went back to his office we changed to game to soccer with both balls. The football with its inflated oval ball was the most dangerous ball we played with. Playing soccer with it inflicted broken nose, nose bleeding and in some cases broken legs or feet. Being new to our sports life we never known where it was bouncing and as a result everyone went to Mr. Bishop for first aid. The baseball is another story. Again soon as Mr. Bishop went back to his office we started playing soccer with it. I don’t know how many of you reader ever come so close to this ball but it is as hard as a rock. Remember, most of us were with no shoes. And playing soccer with baseball again resulted with severe pain on the foot, bleeding or swollen head and other pains inflict on parts of our bodies. Poor, Mr. Bishop! What patience and what a great educator. Sport of all kinds was introduced and every child went to the game of his interest thereafter.

I guess the most important of the contribution of the YMCA came in the area of education and discipline. Not long after we became member the rule changed for positive reinforcement. Mind you the only thing we know of the English language was when Mr. Bishop was refereeing and uttered the words “Atta boy!”. We used it on everything we see. However most of us thought he was uttering “Ara boy!” A year or so another fatherly figure was introduced by the name of Mr. Ludwig. Well built and a walk we all imitated and of course with the two famous words “Atta Boy!” The new rule at the Y was that all Saturdays the language was English and for that anyone who spoke Amharic within the building will not be given a coke at all. Imagine hearing Atta Boy every second and every minute. Mr. Ludwig was now hired to be the physical Education Director. He was also by far younger than Mr. Bishop, at least that was my presumptuous feeling. The use of the library was required from ten until one. Pictures, pictures and pictures, we seen them all patiently and eagerly. In the evening a movie for the public and us was seen every Saturdays and Wednesdays. These kept going for a long time and during the school seasons Saturdays became study days for three hours. All these came with a bonus of some sort. We started to get good in our regular school days and more than half came with the best record in their particular schools.

Everything did not come out from the office of Mr. Bishop and Mr. Ludwig. We started a new club of our own called the Young Flowers led by Tesfaye Gebre using his seniority and ability to speak better English than most. If I may say so, Tesfaye was kind of a dictator in his leadership. No chewing gum when he was presiding. Incidentally for those of you who never heard of Tesfaye Gebre, he later became a singer at the Hager Fiker Maheber and later moved to Italy and became a famous singer. His famous song was Yefeker megeb: musika (The food of love: Music). At the time of his death he gave over $200,000 to the Ethiopian Art and Culture. Under Tesfaye even the famous goalkeeper Getachew Abebe (Dulla) used to be silenced. It was not because Tesfaye was bigger and better but the neighborhood family influence used to dictate his behaviors. There were two of us who were too young in this club, Tadele Demissie and me. The club became in actual fact the most reinforcing organization in our lives. No foul languages were allowed by any member of the organization. Anyone using foul languages and directed to another member will end up being kicked on the butt by all members. Readers there are feet but some feet are bigger and painful. Dulla’s kick could float you on the air and the pain could last for ten minutes. The other requirement was to bring school records at the end of each term. Ah! For those of you who are young and restless there were three term in one year in the Ethiopian school system and semesters were introduce long after. Every member must show his record during the Saturday meeting and anyone whose rank was after the tenth, he would have to bear the kick on the butt and some never showed up at all thereafter.

There was also the summer program headed by the two gentlemen. Classes were limited and were given for a capacity of ten students on first come first served basis. On the registration day which was held round ten in the morning on Saturdays, there used to be kids in line as early as seven in the morning. All chances were given to any one of us. The classes were Bible Study, Audiovisual, physical education, Refereeing basketball, tennis, baseball and other games. At the end of the program diplomas were issued with great celebration in the presence of a prominent man from the Haile Sellasie government. Many of us remained members but soon as we finished eighth grade, we felt the Y was not our place and of course we were now in High School where English was the first language. Those poor Y members let them go through what we went through.

Well, readers I am a big man now and I am not anymore interested with the Y or Arat Kilo. However, looking back the contribution of the Y made all the differences in many of our lives. Actually after the Y and after eighth grade many went back to the neighborhood life style and dropped out of school. I completed high school; of course I had shoes on and also traveled to many parts of Ethiopia through the school programs. There seemed to be nothing changed in the neighborhood, my own childhood friends ended up being hoodlums and the strange thing about it was that they looked at me at high esteem with a lot of respect than I deserved. To this date, after having completed high school the neighborhood was at a stand still. Nothing was changed except I graduated from high school. The statue was artistically built with the history of the Emperor and a clock on the top of it. That clock was one o’clock before I was born and after I graduated from high school. Maybe the message was that “nothing changed and nothing is new”. The Arat Kilo story stopped here just like the clock.

The above three parts has been dedicated to sweet and lovely Ann Cleveland. She knows who she is! I love you dear.

Arat Kilo: The Clock stopped at 1:00 Part II

“Education is admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be thought.”

Oscar Wilde

Readers, please hold any judgment? I might have been born from a poor family and yet never been impoverished. One also needed to understand education in the neighborhood was held in the highest standard. Parents and children were exposed to the scenery of the many students passing through. In particular university students were visible and highly respected. The admiration of the people of the neighborhood obviously can easily been seen on the way they stared at these students and the preferences given to them. The university students walked proudly with their uniform of gray pants and blue jackets with the university logo on their chest pocket. The Menelik students specially the seven graders with their thick volume book “The World”. Certainly parents don’t talk about their children being one of them merely for their own sake of avoiding in case of embarrassment. The future held no hope to their children. There was a hidden competition in all parents mind and none tended to express it. The neighborhood had prominent people in the Ethiopian History, commerce and literature. Blata Dressa Amante resided in here. For those of you who had not read about him, he was to date considered the Oral Oromo Historian and the number one article contributor of the Berehanena Selam Newspaper. Besides being a writer he was one of the people who pushed the Emperor to make education the number one priority in the government. Certainly you all heard of his son Yilama Dressa in the Ethiopian history during the Haile Selassie era and all the jokes made about him. Then there was the Tesfa Gebreselassie printing press owned and run by the same person of which the company was named after. By the way readers the Blata was titled by the Emperor not by the neighborhood. Then there was the well known librarian whose son is a prominent person in the current Ethiopian Educational system, Of course Ato Yohannes Hadgoye, whose brother owned the Ouzo (Kendo) company and Ato Ambaye both owners of local modern bars and local and foreign brewed drinks, W/O Woletemariam owner of the most crowded Tej bete and others.

As I mentioned earlier our playground Feresegna Gebee was the place to meet and play and also the one requirement by parents for us to be around in case we were wanted for errand. The place was within the view of all the neighbors. All parents have to do was mention their child's name and it echoed from house to house until it reached the particular child. The field was divided by age, the older children who most of the time did play soccer which had produced National player like Getachew Abebe (Dulla), the younger one of these played baseball and the youngest ones korkie, birr or marble. These was not as such a rule, it tended to change at the preference of the older ones. Games on this playground continue until the first woman walk to the field for cleanliness and at her order we tended to disperse right then and there. To refuse mean that she would walk into one’s house and punish that child in the presence of the parents. Readers, do you see the meaning of “It takes a village”. I certainly believe in it.

The worst day for many of the children in this neighborhood was Meskerem 18 (September 28) the day when all schools were opening. The sight was beautiful. Children dressed in brand new uniforms, walking toward Menelik, Tefere Mekonnen, and Etege Menen and a little further away to Haile Selassie I School. If not enrolled as a student, one had no choice but to walk with his friends who are towards their prospective schools. It was like an Auld Lang Syne” good bye until we meet again during the school break. Hey! That was not really the end of the tunnel for the kids in this neighborhood. They might not have been prepared to be in the class with a new uniform but no one had ever stopped these children form entering the campus of the school. The only difference was that one may or may not be enroll before the day was over. Once in the campus children who were not enrolled were either ordered to leave the premises or herded to form a line to enroll. Even then the guards were the makers and breakers of the future of the child. Every child who was not in line used to be amassed in one corner and asked to form a line and was assigned a classroom. Thank World! Here was the where opportunity knocked the door for the future. The school systems were all the same in the city of Addis Ababa. The capacities were never more than 30 students in one classroom and each class had only to divisions A and B. Yes! The good news, readers, was I enrolled in Kindergarten with Miss Saide. A very motherly, kind and sweet woman. May God bless her soul! In fact I had her in other classes as my English teacher, in third, sixth and seventh grades. Love her a lot! Unlike the other children she made a special attention to my works. It could have been because I was the thinnest and smallest or a child with no shoes in class. Just between you and me, I was also the smartest. No wonder she loved me!

On the first day soon as I come home to my house I told my parents that I was in school, you could see on their faces both happiness and sadness. In fact my father left to tej bete at about 4:00 pm rather than 6:00 pm. No he was not mad but had to get the best seat to brag to the other parents of my enrollment in school. In short academically I was considered to be the elite through out my school age. With the exception of ninth grade and seventh grade I was the first in all my classes. I might as well mention to you about ninth grade, I ended up being second to the teacher’s child named Changapa (Indian). I cried all day and finally resorted to deal with Changapa right around the end of the class. I found him walking between buildings toward the teachers’ quarter and beat the hell out of him. No, the price was never right the next day I got what I was supposed to deserve. Oh! It hurt. To this day I feel the pain.

Unlike many students who went to school, I was blessed with being poor because I used to get $25.00 stipend every month. Starting from 9th grade I had also the opportunity to travel educational trips on a yearly basis to almost every province in Ethiopia. The trip was administered by the school and only fifty students were allowed to travel. Oh! Before I forget, when I received my first $25.00, I did two important things. I went to Doctor Hagos’ Clinic and got circumcised, which was painful for three month and bought brand new blue jeans. The funny part of about the blue jeans was that it was made for a girl without any zipper or buttons. Well, the solution I thought was to use a blade and carefully cut at the seam, and in that way I would not have a problem of using the urinal just standing up. But the other funny part about it was that when I sit down on the floor it opened itself wide and expose you know what especially when there was no underwear. School was good and so did the Feresegna Gebee after school. Again the unfortunate thing about it was that there were other children who were not that luck.

Hey!! Now I am a student and a number in the Ethiopian school system. But I was still Yeferesegna Gebee lij (a child of the neighborhood). The benefit of living in this neighborhood was a lot. All leaders from other countries must stop here to put a Wreath at the square, the Emperor drove by every gay, marriage and death of the aristocracy go through this neighborhood and there were no exception to this rule. Ferenjiis were never a surprise in here. Imagine knowing the leader and his/her country without going to school.

I remember it could have been either Saturday or Sunday, where as usual we were playing at the field. From nowhere here came an elderly white man with paper bag goodies. For a ferenjii, it was a surprise to come to the field. Yes, they used to watch us play games from afar, but not this close. We all stopped. He spoke in English and somehow been understood by the older group. Lo and behold! He opened the bag and gave each one of us cookies. Yes cookies and as much as we want. As soon as the bag was empty he left the area like an angel who came to spread good news. The next day, here he was again at the same time. You guessed it, he had cookies again. He did the same thing. The subsequent days, he showed up at the same time and the number of children increased as the news was spread all over the neighborhood. Do not be fool; it was not only children parents started to line up to.

He did the same thing for seven or eight days. Then one day he was nowhere to be found to the disappointment of adults and children. No! No! He did not disappoint us but this time he stood about a block away and whistled to our direction. He created a Pavlovian condition of predictable reaction. All then ran towards him and got our cookies. He created the same condition until we reached to a building where he welcomed us all. Inside that building there were tables full of cookies and soft drink which were all foreign to us. Our parents refused to drink considering it unchristian. Although he had been resident of the neighborhood we never known the existence of this organization called the YMCA. Yes the YMCA and the gentleman’s name was Mr. Bishop.

On this day a new life began to all the children in the neighborhood, the YMCA. To be continued

Arat Kilo: The clock stopped at 1:00 Part one

This area of the city of Addis Ababa pioneered the modernization of Ethiopia. The outstanding character of this area was and is significant for the educational institutions of which the first modern school, Menelik II School in 1908 and the University College of Addis Ababa 1947 are located. The square alone stands out to be the center of Ethiopian politics being located between the two palaces, the Ministry of Education and the Parliament, the main churches of Trinity and St Mary. The Ministries of Finance and Foreign Affairs were within close proximity and the YMCA first located right around the square. The statue with different names including being called Ye-arat Kilo Hawlet, Meiazia 27 Adebabaye and Statue of Liberty and recently as Megabit 28. It was erected in the late 1940's and stood proudly like Empire State Building of New York for being the tallest through out Addis Ababa. Many songs including revolutionary ones were sang for it, about it and with it, proverbs were versed about it.

የአራት ኪሎ ሀውልት አይነቃነቅም

ሰው በሰው ይስቃል የራሱን አያውቅም

Most government changes are either plotted or originated in this neighborhood. The public awareness of any significant event was rooted in this neighborhood. The rise and fall of the student movement in the late 60’s and early 70's, the Mengistu and Girmamie movement, the Dejezmach Takle uprising, the who's who of Ethiopian progressives been there and done that. This is the area where I was born and raised. I am certain if I had been born any other place I would not have had the opportunities to be me. Sure, you might ask who the hell are you? Just me! Bear with me until you do find out. Just for this moment imagine I am somebody. In my neighborhood many of the children lived comparatively the same social and economic life. We were all in the same predicaments. None of us wore shoes, our clothing was patched here and there and many of us had scars and wounds on our legs and feet. However, there was one distinct difference from children of other neighborhood. The influence of the educational institutions had made quite a difference in many of us. Our parents are the best of friends. Rich or poor, lady of the nights, house maids, soldiers of the Armed forces or the Body Guard, chauffeurs or garenejiis, laundry worker or water meter reader, peddlers etc. All acted as parents to every child. In as much as they were concerned of our upbringing, they all have one thing in common. They do have less interest in our future educational goals. It was not that they were not aware of its future economic enrichments but the length of time it took would rather provide us an opportunity to be employed in some kind of capacity. Parents in this neighborhood were independent thinkers. Somehow and somewhere they were nurtured in some kind of profession. There were so called doctors who went around looking for patients who needed a shot of penicillin for any kind of sickness, there were lawyers who by merely became one after having the experience of writing court responses to petitioners and defendants outside the court houses. Oh! My god, one would not believe the titled men in the neighborhood who bestowed upon themselves. I sometimes think that all it took was that to wake up in the morning and be Basha, fitawraree, Belata, Hakim (traditional doctors not titled otherwise) and other minor titles that would not upset the palace. One thing I always remember was how hard it was for outsiders to assimilate in this neighborhood, it was like going through fraternity or sorority pledges and most of all the diversity is unique as compared to other neighborhoods of the city. Each and every nationality and religious denominations were equally represented and lived harmoniously exercising their own sub-culture and languages. No offense is done or opposition was made to this rule. There was the issue of foreign languages. Unlike other children from other neighborhoods many were linguists by virtue of the Italians, Americans, English and French residing in the neighborhood. As children of this neighborhood we had the benefit of being exposed to foreign culture. In fact our description of foreigners was comparing them with the major Ethiopian Ethnic group backgrounds. We classified American as Oromos, Tigray-speaking people as Italians and the English as Amharas. You can guess why? Our past time was spent at what it used to be called Feresegna Gebee, which is basically the only open field for an all-purpose amusement. It was used for pasturing the horses for garee (carts), it was our playground, and it was also used by the neighborhood as a place to clean up for nature calls. Yes! We played there with all the unwanted things left the night before. I am sure you heard the saying:

የትም ተወለድ፡ አራት ኪሎ እደግ

Acceptances and assimilations were hard for new comers, be they come from other parts of Addis or other parts of Ethiopia. One could easily be victimized of trickery and malice and no one new ever passed these victimizations. The playground was used for soccer games, baseball slightly different than it is played in the west, marble games, Korkie (bottle caps flattened to look like almost a coin), Birr (cigarette hard box package covers of denomination of one, five, ten, fifty and hundred), volleyballs and forgive me! Cops and robbers too. The balls we used were all made from rug of clothing from the neighborhood tailor and if we got hair from the barber it was considered great! The hair if wrapped with the rugged clothing pieces and tend to bounce better, baseball generally was played with an old tennis ball given to us by the neighborhood foreign children. Ok! Ok! we stole it from them. To play baseball certainly requires a bat and for that we use a bone of a cow. Readers! read the following game by game analysis with an empty stomach. The most enjoyable game of the children's game remained to be Cops and Robbers. Sure you all know what this game is about, do you? Well, in our neighborhood it was quite different. The most important thing to do in this game was to use all available resources. Look here! in the U.S. and during the winter time many kinds of entertainment happen. Snow ball fight, skiing, skating, tobogganing, sledding, etc. Well in our neighborhood the use of the available resources were the same. The main purpose of playing cops and robbers was to find someone who was not slightly related or a neighborhood individual or a city slick. Otherwise the consequence of such trickery would be harsh and painful. The first thing to do in this game was to watch a man or woman who can be fooled by our trick and once such a person was spotted one of us go to the corner of the playground to dip the tip of the whip into human manure. As soon as the victim approached us, one kid with the whip screamed "ROBBER, ROBBER, ROBBER!" and passed the whip to the stranger who was at this point concerned for disciplining any child wherever it would be. Sometimes, we find a person who once victimized would chase that child who acted as the robber and whip him to death. That we also find to be funny the days after, although we make all kinds of attempts to save the child. Please, don't make judgment about this. We had other past time too for the neighborhood children only. The presence of the Trinity church in the area. Here was the only place where the aristocracy got married, had their funeral services or amassed with the Emperor during his choice of day for prayer. This occasion was not only historic but financially enriching for the kids in the neighborhood. How? you may ask. Every General, Dejazmach, etc come with a typically weak-minded driver. We always fool these drivers by letting them know that they are wanted by the general, or dejazmach. Hey it is an open car and nobody was watching it once the driver went to look for his boss. But seriously as a kid I had the opportunity to see the marriage ceremony of Mengistu and Girmamee Neway who married twin sisters. In the evening, it was time to go the closest Red Light house. No! No! too young for what is in your gutter-minded thought. We go there to watch dancing. At the same time we did dance outside by merely watching the adults. I assure all readers to this day I am the best dancer and can easily imitate the new ones. Well, here the ladies were generally nice to us but if business was down they also had their own mischievous acts. This only happened when they had only two or three customers. They lured us to be more interested and attracted us by merely hiding in the corner when dancing very, very close to the men, and all of a sudden one of them came from one corned and spread us with coffee left over. Yes, it was cold, they were not that cruel. Frankly as children we had all the opportunities of being independent of our parents, Once we get together only the darkness of the night separated us from each other. Imagine what that meant, our parents do not need to worry of our lunch. However, we had our ways of finding food. It could be we stole it from the restaurant, form the street peddlers, or go over the fence of foreign residents and find something. Or go the Church dining halls or even the palace entering illegally or pocket the Selet money on church holidays. This was what it was as children. The next parts are going to cover enrollment in school, the YMCA and going to movies.

Betachene - Our House

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Come in, Please. Make yourself at home or bete lembossa. I remember the song “A house is not a home if no one lives in it”, please you are part of it and enjoy your residency and make your comments in the suggestion box. It’s our house designed to bring us together in this individualistic world of ours. I at this point am not the host but roommate or housemate. I remember the girls singing during Ethiopian New Year:

ባልንጀሮቼ ቁሙ በተራ
እንጨት ሰብሬ ቤት እስክሰራ.

Lets all build this house of ours to support, to criticize constructively, to share the good, the bad and the ugly. It is our house rather home called Betachene. Feel free to relax, teach and learn from every person regardless of color, race, religion and nationality. This house has seven rooms for each of the Ethiopian regions with Addis Ababa and the rest of the world having one each. Each room is represented by one national region but not necessarily limit others to enter and feel at home in any room they deem to stay. There is no such a thing as trespassing or “Don’t walk on the grass”. The keys for each room are the same. My policy is unlike the academic right given to students of the Haile Selassie I University that stated “Students have academic freedom of expression right under the sky except politics and religion”. There is no censorship; here it comes, except attacks on individuals.

Brothers and sisters, if our own intellectuals do not take the time to research and study about Ethiopia and preserve the history and culture of all Ethiopians, then we have the right to take it upon ourselves to write on our experiences about our culture, history and our life styles. I wanted to share my life in America and Ethiopia. Yes, it is not that important if you look from my economic and family background, none to write home about it.

I am therefore embarking in a new life to explore and expose me and you. Please don’t forget I am the breaker and maker of this blog. Don’t you forget it! So have fun enjoy the bread of sharing knowledge, the drink of teaching others and the dessert of satisfaction where it is guaranteed. However, if you happen to be a person or persons who wear a coned white hood over your face, you have my sympathy and stay away from this blog.