Israela and the Trip to Ethiopia

by Abel Abyu

"She had man hands!" Jerry proclaimed. The television pre-set by an alarm cast a glow in the dark room five-thirty at dawn, as Seinfeld stirred me from precious slumber. "You have to be at San Francisco Airport by eight o' clock" Dad insisted the night before. I couldn’t sleep due to excitement, so had a hard time waking up. He was happier than usual on the ride to the airport. Probably because I’ll be out of his hair for three months, I scornfully thought. Mixed emotions of excitement and fear were outweighed by grogginess in my mind. This would be my second trip to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia in four years. I would be traveling with my Aunt Rose and younger cousins. On the ride to SFO, I was administered the predicted Ethiopian “Be a good boy, don’t be burdensome” lecture. He offered to give me money, and before I could respond retracted it saying “Didn't your mother give you any?” I guess Dad snapped out of the generous spirit, which almost led him to “hand out money on a whim” as he’d put it. We arrived on schedule. I joined my Aunt and helped her weigh luggage. Any other day I would’ve begged for cash, especially because of the “compelling” argument I had come up with. I’ll remind him of how long I’ll be gone I planned, while completing check-in. But I changed my mind because I wanted to depart from him on a good note, not in an argument. We bid final farewells to our families and began our mundane, nineteen-hour flight. Trying to fall asleep on the plane, I considered how I would spend my vacation in East Africa and how I’d waste fifty American dollars I’d concealed from my father all along.

The plane made its first pit stop from California in Washington, D.C. We‘d have to transfer to Ethiopian Airlines to proceed. There, I discovered my best friend Girma Moges was on vacation with his family. They were going to Ethiopia that summer as well and I hadn’t encountered him in SFO because they’d caught an earlier flight.

“Abel!” he exclaimed in a squeaky voice, “I didn’t know you were going to Ethiopia too! Well, jiminy crickets!”

“What’s up Girma?”

I was excited to find out I was going to another country alongside my best friend, and relieved I didn’t have to experience total boredom the rest of the flight there.

“I didn’t know you were either” I replied.

We made our way to seats in the airport, half running from excitement.

“You want some gum?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He pulled out a bag of Eclipse, Cherry-Mint flavored rectangles from his carry-on. It tasted like Nyquil, but was refreshing nonetheless. Throughout the rest of the vacation he’d never run out. I began to wonder if that’s what his suitcase was full of. We conversed, compared video games and planned how we’d meet once having arrived. After three or four hours of waiting, we dragged our jaded bodies along the planes’ aisles, into our seats.

Severely jetlagged, at long last we made it to Addis International Airport. I always ask anyone who’s been to Africa whether or not he/she could smell the difference of the air. Maybe it’s the soil? I reasoned. The airport underwent drastic re-modeling since my last visit. I wasn’t expecting a run down hangar, but nonetheless it surpassed my expectations. It included window ceilings, restaurants and gift shops. Looking around in amazement, my excitement shifted as I wondered how much my family members had grown. We gathered our luggage and made our way to the exit. My mother’s and Aunt Rose’s family welcomed us. We exchanged hearty handshakes, kisses and hugs amongst ourselves. Cousin Kal had grown five inches which made him around six feet, (that’s massive for an Ethiopian!) and both his sister’s Haimey and Malee blossomed into young women. Aunt Rose and her kids parted ways with me to stay with her parents. I went stay with my Aunt Ruth, Uncle Gash, Cousin Kal and sisters. After a twenty-minute journey, I was in a familiar neighborhood. The rocky path leading to their home caused the Mitsubishi SUV to violently shake, which meant arrival was nearby. We suddenly stopped in front of a faded red, eleven-foot steel gate. Uncle Gash honked his horn to inform the security guard Debebe of our presence, (the signal required for entrance). Surprisingly, Debebe memorized the sound of all three cars my Aunt and Uncle drove. A few moments later, a strong looking man with medium build emerged, as did three different houses behind the rusty gates. Remembering they owned a guard dog, I asked Cousin Malee if Snoopy had been released from her leash, before exiting the car. My fear of dogs wasn’t on vacation that’s for sure.

“Snoopy died Abel. Spucky has replaced her. But don’t worry, he doesn’t bite.”

“Are you sure? OK. But that’s a shame! Snoopy died?” I said, attempting to sound concerned.

Actually, I didn’t care at all. I despised that evil dog because of the emotional wounds she left me with from my previous visit. I was scared enough of dogs in America, with not much of a reason to be. They were clean, rabies-free and had leashes. Ethiopians rarely kept dogs for house pets, which caused me to believe “man’s best friend” were erratic and untrustworthy. I cautiously stepped out of the vehicle into still darkness of the long driveway, fumbling with my luggage as I tried to disguise my quick steps. Yet after re-assurance, I was still afraid of encountering Spucky, or some other wild, African animal. Even though this wasn’t my first time there, American depiction of “uncivilized Africa” played wildly in my mind, regardless if I was in a modern city. Within a matter of seconds I made it inside. I’m such a baby! I thought, as if the subsiding fear wasn’t due to being in the safety of their home. The FIFA World Cup was showing as I entered the den. After refusing to eat, repeatedly (customarily, you’re asked a million times) I spent my first night watching a fierce match between Portugal and England. But as quickly as I got comfortable, I fell asleep.

"CAAW, CAAW, CAAW!" My heart thumping with fear, I awoke. As you can see I’m not much of a morning person, with reasons not to be. A huge, African bird bellowed at me through the window as I cowered behind my sheets. I later learned this was a regular thing for these ferocious creatures to do at dawn. There were tall trees in the compound, so these giant devil birds made their home this location. For three weeks straight this is how I'd awake.

Barefoot, I hopped into the carpeted living room, trying to avoid the chill of the hallway tiles.

"Good morning Kal."

I was in boxers and a T-shirt, so felt a bit relaxed that no one else was present as I entered the dining room.

"Hey Abel."

I joined him at the table. He was eating Cocoa Puffs and drinking tea. Their maid Alem offered to pour me a bowl as I began to bask in the luxury of being waited upon.

"I won't have any trouble getting used to this" I said with a sheepish smile.

For the rest of the day we decided to stay home. More relatives who lived in Kenya were arriving in a week, so we chose to wait for them before initiating any activities. Around noon, while we were watching Friends (via satellite), I received a phone call. It was Aunt Rose. The event after this conversation made my trip to Ethiopia memorable. And as of today when I look back, bittersweet.

"Abel, do you remember Israela?" she asked.

"Who?" I asked.

"My friend's daughter that came to your Uncle and my wedding" she replied

"Oh yeah- I mean, what about her?" I said, trying to cloak the excitement in my voice. This girl was my childhood crush.

"I'm going to visit her family do you want to co-"

"Yes!" I interrupted.

I rummaged through my luggage for the best shirt I could find. I pieced together an outfit consisting of a Tommy Hilfiger button-down, blue jeans and hand-cleaned Adidas shoes. I brushed and groomed every morsel of my body closely. My Aunt arrived and I borrowed cologne from Kal for the finishing touch. For a twelve and a half year old, I was sharp as a tack!

The scenery on the taxi ride to Israela’s house was impacting. We drove on smooth streets, rocky roads and unpredictable terrain. Along the way were donkeys, guided by lowly farmers, pedestrians guided by obligations and cab drivers guided by road rage. There were poor women and children at stoplights begging for money. Unlike America, Ethiopian peasants were without any resources, so I felt more empathetic towards them. We passed by businesses, homes, shanties, buildings and apartments. Aunt Rose began to search her purse for cab fare as we arrived. It was a mixture between “crap-shack” and “nice house” in Israela’s neighborhood. The cab left us at her gate and my heart began to pound, harder than it had when the ugly birds awoke me. Creak. The gate slowly opened and there stood…her father. Immediately, Aunt Rose and he embraced one another. I stood there awkwardly, thinking, hoping, wishing Israela was home.

The sinking feeling I’d experienced a couple days back on the plane began to assault my abdomen. Within a matter of eight seconds I had already given up hope. I numbly greeted her father. As if he could read the expression on my brow, he turned and called for the big brown-eyed girl with curly hair and dimples I’d fallen for as a five year old. She curiously emerged from inside, small dog in arms. I snapped out of my despair and smiled goofily. She greeted my Aunt and me, trying her best to avoid eye contact as we entered their home. After a lunch I practically inhaled out of nervousness, my wish had been granted, alone time! My little cousin had become ill, so Israela’s father offered to take him and Aunt Ruth to the hospital. Israela and I were left alone in an empty house. Is this the greatest thing that’s happened to me or what? I exclaimed in my head. As she got used to me, Israela became less shy and asked if I wanted to watch a movie. I agreed.

“What do you want to watch” she asked.

“It doesn’t really matter, what do you have?”

“Oh, we can watch a scary movie!” she exclaimed

She inserted the cassette and we sat on the floor, balancing on pillows. She intently stared at the flashing television. I, on the other hand, was in disbelief of how lucky I was. Here I am on vacation, chilling with my childhood love! Halfway into the movie, we both became restless and began to flirt, tossing the cusions at each other. Hours fly by as we ask each other questions about school, life and hobbies. She must like me!

“Would you like a tour of the house?” she asked.

“Sure. But, please put your dog away.” I pleaded, as we got up from the floor in unison.

“Why, she doesn’t bite! Are you scared?” she teased.

“No, I’m not scared of nothin’” I replied, attempting to sound tough.

She giggled. We casually strolled around her home. She showed me her photo album, bedroom and their courtyard outside. My actions had begun to slowly sell me out. I had a crush on her and she knew it. With no control over my impulses, I would stare into her eyes for long amounts of time and hit her playfully. However, I was abruptly slapped back into reality as she said these words. My behavior must’ve been her queue:

“By the way, I have a boyfriend. Do you have a…”

After that point, I don’t remember a thing that happened at her house. She was no longer able to become my own and that’s all that registered. Maybe I was in such a daze of puppy love that my brain only retained the positive elements of the time spent. I don’t remember my Aunt Rose coming back from the hospital, or us saying bye to Israela and her father. I don’t even remember catching a cab and arriving back to Aunt Ruth’s. Not even a kiss I said to myself, obliviously walking past Spucky who was off his leash, straight into my room like a zombie. Not even a kiss.

“How was the date?” Cousin Kal asked.

“Amazing. She wanted me bad, but I told her she couldn’t handle all of this!” I replied.