Innocent Abroad
11/26/2004 3:57PM MST (1:58PM Addis Ababa 11/27/2004)
Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to find myself in a bar in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia listening to someone sing Ray Charles tunes in a piano bar. And yet here I was, my father's friends having decided to take me out for a night on the town. After dinner at the home of a Finnish diplomat (don't ask, I have no idea how it is that my life takes these turns), we made our way to the home of an older Sudanese gentleman and all together went to the Concorde hotel. The hotel itself was a terribly curious place, set as it was behind a Mobil gas station, as if the hotel was part of the "stop 'n shop" portion of the gas station. Still, there was a valet who took the car and parked it as we made our way into the lobby and then left, into the Piano Bar. At first the music seemed somewhat shrill but was over quickly as they switched between singers. The second was a beautiful young woman with a halo of reddish brown hair surrounding the hair at the front of her head that was pulled back. She had high cheekbones and almond eyes, and was dressed in a very short dress and knee-high boots that laced in the back. I was quite surprised by her appearance, but not as much by the rapt silence that overtook the crowd of besuited, and besotted fellows who had obviously come just for her. As I finished my orange juice she started to sing, and her voice was simply beautiful. Her set consisted of 6 songs, three in Amharic, the rest being Sudanese songs, which are inexplicably popular in Ethiopia, She resembled nothing so much as an 80's singer in the late Donna Summer/early Tiffany mold - but better.
She was followed by an even more improbable act, an old man with his head shaved clean, in a blue suit. Before I knew what was happening he was singing "Nighttime in Georgia" followed by "Unchain My Heart". This octogenarian Wayne Newton was off and running with no real end in sight. He moved from song to song, throwing himself into the lyrics and belting them forth with an impish smile and a wink at the ladies. Not content to just sing, he was swaying and moving his hips, an Ethiopian Tom Jones. My companions informed me that he could sing in 9 languages, and as if to prove them right he started to sing "Di Me Quando" in tremulous tones that would have been applauded in Barcelona. I was flabbergasted and a little star struck when he sat down at our table, apparently familiar with the gentlemen I was with.
I would like to take a moment to tell you something about Sudanese culture. While the Sudan is a Muslim country, there is quite a bit of drinking in it's culture, specifically for men. There is a certain generation that started drinking the local hooch when they were in high school and progressed to Johnny Walker whiskey (typically Red Label, although Black Label is imbibed by some of the more refined gents) as they did their post-graduate studies in England, France or the US. They all drink the same thing, whiskey straight on the rocks, or whiskey and water, and it is usually accompanied by a certain amount of male gossip. Under no circumstances are women involved (I've never seen any) unless it is to provide the snacks that they knock themselves out on, and no children period. So when the gentlemen I was with offered me a drink I was very taken aback. Now I wasn't necessarily ashamed to drink in their presence, but my life is compartmentalized in a way most of my friends are familiar with. Since I associated Ethiopia with Sudan, and Sudan with my youth, then no drinking could take place. These gents weren't having any of it and ordered me a bottle of the local beer, Castel. It was a light pilsner and not so hard on the system, though I am still not at fighting weight so to speak.
Upon my return we moved to a different bar, called the Tropicana. This was more of a local place, and you could feel it in the atmosphere. Beyond the full compliment of local fellows, there was another live dance band with revolving lead singers. This one was distinguished by a saxophone to complement the ubiquitous keyboard. The singing was heartfelt and the crowd much more lively than the one at the Concorde. I contented myself to sit, still feeling the effects of the jetlag, but noted the gusto with which the patrons got up to dance. The Ethiopians are proving themselves to be a generally fun-loving bunch, particularly when you take into account the diversity of the crowd. Impressive, to say the least. It has certainly changed my view of Africa, which I am sad to say was formed by my travels in the exclusively Arab-Muslim parts. I am trying not to get spoiled though, because the Sudan with all of it's lovable, repressive idiosyncrasies is next on my itinerary.
PS what a windfall of connectivity I've had! This can't last long, so don't get spoiled....