|English Alive Academy|
Stephanie took me to both of the school campuses in the morning. A few blocks from Azeb's house in the "KG campus". This holds two nursery classes, two 1st level kindergarten classes, and one 2nd-level kindergarten class. There is a shaded playground, latrines, a library, an office, and a teachers' resource room.
About 1/2 mile away is the "grade campus", which houses grades 1st through 4th classrooms, a shaded eating area, latrines, an office, a library, and a teachers' resource room. Just before morning break, the cleaning staff water down the play area, otherwise, the kids would simply churn dust during recess.
Back to the schools - the students are charming, polite, affectionate, engaged. How many hands did I shake? How many times did I say "good morning"? Countless, especially as quite a few children came back for seconds and thirds.
Around noon, Stephanie and I returned to Azeb's, where she served us a delicious lunch. I took a short nap, then checked out an internet cafe. Stephanie returned home to Addis.
In the evening, I pulled out my mp3 player and speaker to charge them. For fun, I put on an Ethiopian song by Mahmoud Ahmed, selected at random, for Azeb to hear.
I hadn't played more than about 10 seconds when Azeb said, "That's my brother".
And I had to pause mentally. I've heard "that's my brother" before in Ethiopia. This can mean: 1) the person is the speaker's brother; 2) this person is "like" a brother; or 3) total baloney.
Of course in this case, I quickly gathered my wits about me and said, "What?"
Azeb repeated, "That's my brother."
I: "You mean this singer is your brother?"
I: "Really? Are you kidding?"
Damn. What are the odds here? I mean, how far do you have to go back in time to start the path that ends up at this astonishing intersection?
Later, I walked into the bathroom just in times to see a cockroach skittering toward me, the size of which I've only see in a museum with a pin in it. I screamed.