Circa December 2002. We were slowly
getting into a routine and Hyderabad and India were becoming a distant memory. Aiding
the process of forgetting was the complete lack of information and news about
India. In 2002 sending mail itself was a herculean task and news was very jaded
by the time it reached us. Someone glibly said “by the time a film star’s marriage
news reaches Bahirdar, that film star would have had his first baby!”. But it was
a blessing in disguise, as it helped us assimilate into the rich surroundings and
immerse ourselves into the Ethiopian experience.
Early mornings were a shocker. It
was quite chilly and going outside was an experience in itself. There would be dew
and water drops everywhere and the omnipresent cats (semi domesticated) would
mingle around our legs, rub themselves and mew loudly, hoping to get some milk
from us.
And then the birds! There were so many of them that it was a riot
of colours.
We could see hornbills which in India could only be seen in wild
life sanctuaries. Also marking their attendance would be a platoon of parrots, mynas and many other birds.
The naughtiest and exasperating of them all was the leaf
cutter. This extremely audacious bird would land on our trees and cut the leaves
as if they were being cut with a scissors!
Finally, after lots of pressure, we
got our kitchen from Mulugeta’s family. Padma was happy and arranged her kitchen
the way she liked. But there was a problem. There was no platform and she was
forced to cook everything at the ground level. Not that she was worried about
cooking sitting down. Padma was more worried about the walking, clinging, time bomb
that would come and suddenly attach itself to her – Sahithi. Padma was very
scared that Sahithi would end up in the hot pan.
Sahithi ensured that Padma did
not miss her mother-in-law. She would glare at Padma and say in a crisp voice “amma,
you better wear your chunni (dupatta)”. All the time she would be grating her teeth
in annoyance. Padma would have been wearing a sweater but it would not cut any
ice with Sahithi. She had to wear a chunni. Exasperated and worn out Padma christened
her “Naa Attagaru (my mother-in-law)”.
The next event, I would wait for would
be the arrival of the Ethiopian priests. The Ethiopian priests were among the
most solemn holy people. They would slowly walk in the kable and would not pause
even for second at any house. It is up to the people to run up to them and
offer them alms or food. The priest would accept the offerings without a change
of expression and place the holy cross on the top of the head of the devotee
and keep walking. I found the entire spectacle deeply moving and spiritual too!
We learnt two words very critical
for survival in Bahirdar, HID and HIJ which meant GO AWAY in Amharic. For boisterous
boys you say loudly HID and for Giggly girls it is HIJ in a loud sonorous voice.
Not that it mattered. The thick skinned youngsters would continue what they
were doing inspite of any number of HIDs and HIJs. Only the very small kids
would stop for a second or two. They would recover and prodded by their elder brothers
and sisters’ break into an endless chorus of You, You, You……….
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