back to ethiopia
The very first view of the hills surrounding Addis Ababa was enigmatic, with early morning fog clouds creeping from the hinterland up the hills all the way to the precipice, after which they would pour over the edge into the crater-like valley that harbours Addis (A.A. in local parlance..). With Addis at ca 2300m above sea-level, i was glued to the airplane window, wondering in early morning post-night flight stupor about the resemblence of the organic looking creeping cloud formation to moss, and how did it know to creep up and up, and stop creeping just before it would cascade down into the valley...

5 days & 1 eLearning Africa conference later...
..i was sinking into the backseat, relaxing into the idea of a long car ride that would allow all the details of the the day to sink into my thought. My co-passengers were equally lost in their own worlds - Lorna dipping into short bouts of sleep, Sheba lying down on the very back bench quietly whispering into her mobile phone and smoking a fag.
I couldnt begin to think what this visit must've affected in Dee, being Jamaican and wearing locks, but never really having delved into this movement - this faith and its projenitors. It must've been a true baptism by fire, judging by the amount of times we heard 'FYA!' proclaimed that day. Not wanting to distrub her, I recognised that chit chat or further discussion was really not required for the events of the day to start making any more sense in our minds - from the frightening 4am call that aroused the Addis-based household into a state of worry and a need for an explanation, a cause for the attack. With old fears and accusations rising through the questions and anxiousness, the atmosphere in the house had been tense and the mercy-bound journey to Shash, loaded with bandages and disinfectant for the wounded youths, was a prospect that gave me heavy boots.
Now the day was growing old, and the sun was coming down fast, bathing the surrounding low lands in soft orange and pink light against the remainder of the immense bright blue sky, with stars beginning to sparkle through the vast expanse of the night firmament.
In Africa I've heard it said that the stars in the sky are the campfires of their ancestors. If thats true, then somewhere up there may be my dad's dad, whom i had unfortunatly never known, but who, my dad told me recently, had been keenly interested in Africa, its nature and its people - so much so that he had written text books on Africa for Dutch primary school classes all over the country. Setting off every so often, from the small towns and villages in the east of the country where they had lived, often next to or even attached to school buildings where he had worked, to the offices of the Ministry of Education in the capital The Hague, to get his latest collection of lessons published - all geared towards an enhanced understanding of, and appreciation for, this distant continents' treasures on the part of Dutch school children.
The idea occurred that he might just have come out of his dwelling, picked some firewood from the bush, made a camp fire, is sat down by the crackling fire, gazing out over earth, bemusedly following my adventures and explorations on this continent and beyond. Who knows, maybe grandma is even sitting next to him, boiling up water on the fire for some tea; maybe they fell in love again when grandma finally joined him there, delighted and inspired by each other's company.
We reached the top of a hill and suddenly were surrounded by a most stunning 240 degree view of two lakes sparkling in the last daylight, shimmering silverly ahead and aside of us. Flanked on one side with protective hills and streching into the horizon on the other, the sight of Lake Shala and Lake Langano caused Lorna, Dee and me to exchange glances and share our visible pleasure at the incredible sights and moments availed to people travelling on the majestic African continent.