Yes, I have been gone too long. I went on a mini sabbatical and forgot to put the ‘Gone Fiishing’ sign up. Well, I am back.
In the mean time, enjoy this little poem.
Giving care in time of despair
Going the distance that no one can
While in itself noble and fair
Is not the only duty of man.
Show some love in time of calm
When hope is full and care is free
When all loved ones are far from harm
For that’s the time your eyes can see
Chereka
CHAMPS!!!!
10
4
TEN FOUR!!!!
So, is the threat from terrorism, especially the so called ‘radical Islam terrorism’ an overblown propaganda used by governments to scare people into submission or a legitimate danger that threatens humanity? The answer to this question may be difficult, but after watching this documentary, you may start to see things a little more clearly and make your own judgment.
“The Power of Nightmares” is a brilliant 3 part BBC documentary that shows the phenomenon called ‘terrorism’ from a different angle. It was produced by Adam Curtis, a British documentary producer who has made other interesting and sometimes controversial documentaries. The Power of Nightmares shows how “Neo-Conservatives” in America like George W Bush, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld and others used terrorism to promote their radical right wing agenda and how the tactics they used to accomplish this goal was remarkably similar to that of the ‘radicals’ they claimed they were protecting us from. The film uses old footage to show how these Neo-Cons have been planning this for a long time ever since they set foot in government.
It is simply a remarkable documentary.
Enjoy… if you can.
The Power of Nightmares Part I – Baby it’s Cold Outside
The Power of Nightmares Part II – The Phontom Victory
The Power of Nightmares Part III – The Shados in the Cave
Are you one of many millions around the world affected by this global economic meltdown? Are you pissed off? Do you hate banks and the people who run them? Have you lost money from your 401K investment? Is your home worth millions less than it was a couple of years ago? Do you worry about losing your job every day? Did you see what these ‘Masters of The Universe” did to us? It wasn’t enough that they were making huge obscene profit from the ‘normal’ way they did business in the past, which was arguably considered usury, they had to create these complicated and fraudulent, but legal ‘financial instruments’ called “derivatives” to basically bring the world economy to its knees!!! And to add insult to injury, they are demading that we bail them out by basically holding us hostage and threatening to bring the whole thing down! And what do they do with our money? Well, you have heard the stories. No need to re-hash them. They will just re-agrevate you.
Well, you’re not alone with your outrage. There are millions like you around the world. But what to do. I guess one way is to try and make light out of this misery whenever you get the chance.
Below are a couple of videos. The first one is the from the brilliant and courageous John Stewart, who, along with Stephen Colbert, has become a real journalist who tells it like it in his own humorous but informative way, outing the shyster Jim Cramer of CNBC as a dangerous and criminal fraud. He confronts Cramer with a tape that basically shows that Cramer is an insider who cares less about the investor and more about these financial institutions. It was blood boiling and satisfying at the same time.
The second one is a song (lyrics included) by Mojo Nixon and Skid Roper about their feelings towards banks. Well, they include a couple of other large corporate businesses that you may have been frustrated with in the past. I know I have.
Anyways, enjoy and remember, don’t take everything too seriously. It will easily drive you either crazy or at least bald if you let it.
Stewart
Have you heard of Rachel Corrie? Rachel Corrie was the peace activist from ISM International Solidarity Movement, who travelled to Gaza in 2003 to protest the treatment of the Palestinian people by the government of Israel. On March 16th 2003, Rachel, along with 6 other ISM members, attempted to stop the demolition of houses which belonged to Palestinian refugees in Rafa refugee camp by IDF members by acting as human shields. She was deliberately ran over and killed by a bulldozer driven by an Israeli soldier. She was 23 years old at the time of her death. Today is the 6th anniversary of her death.
Below is an article written by Gila Svirsky, an Israeli activist and the co-chair of B’Tselem,a human rights center in the occupied territories. It was published at Common Dreams.Org
It is difficult to put in words what sacrifice Rachel Corrie made for the rights of her fellow human beings, but this article comes as close as one can get by taking us back in to the place and time where this horrible event took place. It is a must read.
Oh, and this past weekend, another American activist from California, Tristan Anderson, was critically shot in the head by the IDF for peacefully demonstrating and opposing the construction of a wall in the Palestinian territories.
Rachel Corrie was killed in the Gaza Strip in Palestine on March 16, 2003, trying to prevent the demolition of the home of a Palestinian family.
I was not present in Rafah that terrible day, 16 March 2003, but I have frequently replayed in my mind the events leading up to the moment when a bulldozer rolled over Rachel Corrie. I think to myself: What compelled this young woman, neither Jewish nor Palestinian, to travel 10,000 miles from home, throw in her lot with a family not her own, a people not her own, and ultimately meet a death that came suddenly, swiftly, in an instant of shocked comprehension.
In the biblical book of Ruth, we read of Naomi whose two sons have died, leaving two young widows. Naomi encourages her daughters-in-law to remain in Moab, their own land. One daughter-in-law kisses Naomi and bids her farewell. The other, Ruth, chooses to accompany Naomi to the distant climes of Judah. Why does Ruth go? “Entreat me not to leave thee,” says Ruth, “for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God, my God.” And she continues, “Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.”
The biblical figure of Ruth journeys to her new people, expecting never to return, but to be buried in foreign soil.
The modern figure of Rachel journeyed to her new people, expecting to return for the start of the school year, and never to be buried, or to be buried at some vastly distant unimaginable future, but never to find her death in the soil of her chosen destination. She journeyed to her new people expecting to find another culture, another language, another way of interacting, but never to find another attitude toward the taking of life. She journeyed expecting to see death, but never to be embraced by it herself.
In Fear and Trembling, Kierkegaard recounts the story of Abraham as he takes his son Isaac to be sacrificed on Mount Moriah. The story is so unfathomable – how could Abraham take his son, his only son, and prepare to slay him for no apparent reason other than God’s inscrutable request? Kierkegaard constructs several scenarios of what may have been coursing through Abraham’s heart as he walked his son to Moriah to kill him.
Writes Kierkegaard: “It was early in the morning, Abraham rose betimes, he embraced Sarah, the bride of his old age, and Sarah kissed Isaac, who had taken away her reproach, who was her pride, her hope for all time. So they rode on in silence along the way, and Abraham’s glance was fixed upon the ground until the fourth day when he lifted up his eyes and saw afar off Mount Moriah, but his glance turned again to the ground. Silently he laid the wood in order, he bound Isaac, in silence he drew the knife – then he saw the ram which God had prepared. Then he offered that and returned home…From that time on Abraham became old, he could not forget that God had required this of him. Isaac throve as before, but Abraham’s eyes were darkened, and he knew joy no more.”
In my mind’s eye when I see Rachel standing on that mound of earth and facing the bulldozer, I envision a young woman looking at the small window fast approaching her in the brow of the bulldozer, peering into that dark space to find the eyes of the soldier who was driving, perhaps someone her own age, someone who also loved to dance and joke with a younger sister, someone who was thinking about how long it would take until he could finish this job and get back to the base where he didn’t have to face the anger of people who don’t understand what he’s doing, thinking about his weekend pass and his own future, maybe he would go back to school and finish that course, or about his own loneliness, and how it is to be out here alone at the gears every day, and then there’s this girl out there, and why doesn’t she get out of the way. What was his next thought – “Shall I kill her?” or “I’ll scare her – she’ll move” or “Still time to brake!” – as he hurtles forward.
In this land where blood pours down like lemon drops and sticks to all the senses, to paraphrase Joni Mitchell, we cannot know what thought compelled this young man to push on. Later that day, he may have wept and found comfort among his friends. He may have shrugged it off – a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it. But we do know one thing: He will live with the death of Rachel for the rest of his life. He may not read every article about her, he may agree only with those that justify his deed, but we know that he reads some of what is written, and we know that he thinks about that day, and wonders if things, somehow, could have ended differently. How do we know this? We know because we agree with Rachel, who risked her life in the belief that whoever was driving that vehicle would stop before he harmed her. We know because we believe, like Rachel, in the fundamental decency of every human being, and that even those who kill, harbor pain in their hearts for that death. We do not have to forgive this man or this system that led him to kill in order to understand that the trauma of Rachel’s death, which affected millions of people throughout the world, also affected the man who took her life.
On that blindingly sunny day in Rafah, when optimism glints irrationally from every tank, every M16, every dogtag on the necks of 18-year-olds in uniform, photos of loved ones in their pockets, Rachel stood her ground with ease, waiting for his eyes to meet hers, waiting for decency to slow the grinding treads, waiting for the moment of sanity to kick in, to interrupt the flow of tension swelling toward collision, waiting for the inevitable to happen – that reason would prevail.
Today we are some distance from that moment, we have had time to think about it, and still we are no more capable of fathoming what transpired: That until the moment of impact, Rachel never lost her faith in the decency of the bulldozer driver; that until the moment of impact, the driver never understood that he was capable of this terrible crime.
Writes Kierkegaard, “It was a quiet evening when Abraham rode out alone, and he rode to Mount Moriah; he threw himself upon his face, he prayed God to forgive him his sin, that he had been willing to offer Isaac, that the father had forgotten his duty toward the son.”
In my own efforts to understand these terrible deeds, the one on Mount Moriah and the one in Rafah, I ask myself: At Moriah, what was the more terrible – that Abraham had been willing to sacrifice his son? Or that God had demanded this of him?
And in Rafah, who is the real sinner – the soldier who ended the life of a girl on a mound of earth in a land not his and not hers – a land where Rachel, like Ruth, was invited and welcomed, but he was an interloper and resented? Or, in Rafah, too, is the real sinner the God who had demanded this of him – God the army officers, God the brutal policies, God the society of those willing to inflict pain on others to still their own fears and traumas?
And whose gaze turned from one of trust to astonished alarm? The driver, who trusted that Rachel would leap away before it was too late? Or Rachel, who trusted that the driver would halt the vehicle one tread sooner?
Ever more relevant is “Season of the Camomile” by the late Palestinian poet Samir Rantisi, written in 1988, soon after the killing of an Israeli and a Palestinian near the village of Beita. An excerpt:
How many more ordinary mornings
will fill us with horror
and transform our day to another sky;
who chose us
to be the victim and the symbol
to be the beginning of the beginnings,
the moment of historical trial;
we, the two dreamers,
the routine, the ordinary,
who chose us
to be the heart of the conflict
and the crossroads of time
…why didn’t you find someone besides me to be a symbol?
why didn’t they find someone besides you to be a victim?
why could they only find Beita in the spring.
Our hearts in grief, we ask: Why didn’t they find someone besides you to be a victim? why didn’t they find someone besides you to be a symbol? Ah, Rachel, ah, unknown soldier, why could you only find Rafah in the spring?
This is for all of you internet and telephone addicts. It is by a pop star Meri Wilson from the 70’s. “The Telephone Man” was recorded in 1977 which elevated her to stardom. In 1999 she updated the song and called it “The Internet Man”. Unfortunately, she was killed in car accident in 2002.
Enjoy!
Meri Wilson – Telephone man
Internet Man
For those of you who have seen my last post and followed the links, you are probably thinking, oh here we go…a cyber war!! Well, I hope it doesn’t turn out to be one, and I hope the ‘doc’, who was actually the first to bring up the phrase ‘drive by’ does not see it that way too. I am hoping this will be a mature exchange of ideas where people from both sides of the issue will learn something.
OK ‘doc, here I am. Let’s get busy, shall we?
Based on your last response, it seemed like you may have taken offense in some of the things I wrote. If I have offended you in any way with my comments, I hope you did not take it personal and would like to apologize, because remember ‘doc’, this is not about you or me, it is about the issue. It has never been personal with me and it never will be.
The reason I saw it necessary to respond to your posts is, not because I have a particular dislike for the ‘doc’, but for several reasons. First, just like you, I hold a point of view that I believe is right and I feel it needs to be communicated. You believe that the election of Barack Obama was proof that racism was over blown in this country, and I agree with the view that says that the election of Barack Obama proves the opposite point which is that there are many African Americans who are just as qualified, if not more, to be president of the United States. It is just that Barack Obama, to his credit, was able to artfully ease the fear and horror of many white people who could not stomach the thought and prospect of a black man in the White House and at the same time was able to wink and nod to black people by saying, ‘I know things are f*&^d up, up in here, but let me first get in the door and then we will fix it later’. Why do you think he dropped the Reverend Jeremiah Wright so quick? You really think he disagreed with everything the good ol’ Rev had to say?
Second, as a member of a group that you claimed to represent in your first post, an African immigrant to which I also belong, I felt, not only the responsibility, but also the obligation to make sure that, in the eyes of my African American brothers and sisters, I wasn’t lumped with you and others who hold the same belief that I as was not misrepresented with your point of view. You claimed that African Americans can learn from Africans about how to handle whatever little racism there is in America and that African Americans had only themselves to blame for where they are now. I am sorry, but I, as one of those African immigrants, can not sit and let that irresponsible comment go unchallenged, whether you accept it or not. There are a lot of things that African Americans learn from Africans, but I don’t think racism in America is one of them. Not one of us, African immigrants, can teach African Americans about the effects of slavery it had, no matter how long we have lived here in the US.
Simply stated, living for 10 years “under the white man’s microscope” can hardly give a person the license to indict a group of people for their perceived lack of courage and will when the evidence points the opposite. At the same time you stated that you have a hard time indentifying the advantages white people have over blacks and charged African-Americans with ‘Laziness’!!! Laziness!!! Don’t you think that is a little harsh, if not utterly irresponsible? Who is the lazy one here? The African Americans who have managed to get here despite all the setbacks, individual or institutional, imposed by whites in power or the whites who have generationally taken advantage of this power?
Now, on the other peripheral issues (no pun intended to one of the commentors) that were brought up during the exchange, don’t you think it would be a good idea to cite your sources whenever you make a claim to support your views. In my opinion, that only makes your point even stronger because it say that your views are shared by others whom you have a great respect for, depending on your sources of course, because, as you know ‘doc’ these days any Tom, Dick and Harry, or better yet, and Bekele, ‘doc’ and ‘Chereka’ can post anything on this wild dumping ground called the internet and have it pass as the ‘fact’. So, it is always good to consider the source. For you to respond by saying I don’t have the time to cite sources, only makes your point weaker, in my opinion. Besides, as a blogger, I am sure you know by now how easy it is find a link to a source if you actually know the name.
And finally, I was puzzled by your challenge to ‘disprove’ anything that you ‘uttered’. First, I didn’t think there was anything to ‘prove’ or ‘disprove’ since we are trying to present point of views that we believe in. I can only challenge what you present as an opinion with my own. On the other hand, if you had given me something objective, then maybe I can present my own case. But what you are discussing here is largely subjective in that it is, as you pointed out, from personal judgment and considerations. In other words, it is very difficult to disprove something that is not supported by facts.
I hope this is a start of something productive and not a shouting match. I seem to have ruffled some of your supporters’ feathers too, and I am happy to see that. What good is a ‘low class wanna-be blogger’ if he doesn’t arouse the passion or dander of a loyal fan?
Cheers again.
OK give it a rest already, ‘doc’. Now you are starting to sound like the Uncle Toms of the world like Alan Keyes and Ward Connerly. I first read your posts entitled ” Could African-Americans Learn From Africans? “ with some measure of amusement and great deal of disappointment at its arrogant tone. You followed that with your Nigger(ism)? post which made you sound more like Bill O’Reilly or Sean Hannity trying to give cover to white racists who use the ‘N’ word. As perturbed as I was with your outrageous view, I decided to let it go excusing it as “youthful indiscretion” or another cheap attempt to be a ‘controversial blogger’. And then came the latest, “CNN: Black in America (Charles Barkley) ” . So I decided that you had gone too far and someone had to call you out on your absurdities.
You really are bordering on the insane with your constant obsessive whining about how African Americans are exaggerating the effects of racism and how they have no one but themselves to blame for it. It is really sad to see your all too familiar delusional, but more importantly, dangerous theory that racism in the US is overblown and that the election of Barack Obama was a vindication of your view. Well, I suppose racism in the US is over then! As Tim Wise, the brilliant anti-racism activist and writer put it recently, I guess now that Barack Obama is president, a car full of young black men can drive real slow in any of the richest exclusive suburbs of any given city in America and not be stopped by the local police.
OK ‘doc’, let’s set aside the fact that Obamawas propelled to the presidency with 95% of the African American vote, 67% of the Hispanic vote, 62% of the Asian vote, and 66% of the youth (18-29) a demographic that is becoming more and more race tolerant. In contrast, he got 43% of the overall white vote compared to 55% of McCain’s in the same demography. But for you to cite Obama’s election as a proof that racism in America is exaggerated is like saying, because Jackie Robinson was allowed to play baseball in the major leagues, or Thurgood Marshall became the first black Supreme Court justice, or Sidney Poitier was a successful famous black actor, racism was always overblown in this country. Or more contemporarily, it’s like pointing Oprah and Tiger Woods or Condi Rice and saying, see they made it, why can’t you? But what you don’t hear about is the racism and discrimination millions of others who tried for the same position faced, although they were perfectly qualified for the positions. See, individual success by handful stories does not indicate that we have overcome the problem. What you and many seem to forget for every single success that you cite, there are tens of thousands of failures because of racism. And let’s face it, Obama was elected president DESPITE the unprecedented racism he faced during the campaign and still faces even after becoming president. What is even more tickling to me is the number of Ethiopians who agree with your point of view, not only on your blog, but in the general population. It wasn’t enough that you and your followers agree with this misguided view, you also shamelessly trashed Affirmative Action, forgetting the fact that the very reason you and your fans are able to come to the US and enjoy this freedom of speech that you are now practicing is because of Affirmative Action, the same program you are willing to trash. You know, people like you are the types who, if a white man saw you drinking from a water fountain and said, ‘Isn’t America a wonderful country? We no longer prevent you colored people from drinking out of the same water fountain’ and you would enthusiastically reply, ‘Oh yes sir, thank you sir’.
It never fails to amaze me with Ethiopians like you who flaunt their perceived, or should I say imagined superiority over African Americans with unbridled arrogance. No matter what generation, we somehow manage to concoct this belief in our minds about how we are the smartest, most responsible, hardest working, and let’s not forget prettiest people on the planet.
Oh, I know how we occasionally include other Africans as hard workers too for convenience sake when it fits our agenda in such a way that it denigrates African Americans, but we are also the same people who see a Nigerian or Kenyan or Ghanaian on the street and, without a hint of irony or paradox, say ‘he/she looks African’; and in the same breath, whenever we see a pretty black woman or a handsome black man, we declare ‘wey habesha timeslalech/yemeslal’, ‘she/he looks Ethiopian’. Don’t get me wrong, I love my native country and countrymen just as much as the next Ethiopian., but it’s just that once in a while I run into Ethiopians like you who seem to have bought into this ‘you Ethiopians are different from the blacks’ or ‘you Ethiopians are different from other Africans’ crap that some white people have been feeding you. It makes me almost cringe and be ashamed of being identified as an Ethiopian.
See doc, as an African, especially an Ethiopian whose ancestors were able to fend off the threat of colonialism unlike many African countries, it might be too easy for you to dismiss the effect and legacy of slavery and racism had and continues to have on black people. The reason is because you and your family never experienced even a fraction of what African Americans have endured. I think that is the basic problem many Ethiopians and some Africans have about slavery and the generational impact it had and continues to have on African Americans.
See, you never had a grandfather or a father who was told that he was 3/5th of a human being, or could not drink from the same water fountain as a white man, or could not sit at the same seat at a lunch counter or on a bus. You never had a parent or a grand parent whose friend or relative or any other black person he/she identified with was humiliated just because he had a different skin color. You never had a parent or grand parent who was denied of a job or housing or any other basic right a white man had in this country because of the color of his/her skin. You never lived in a city where your own governement intentionally flooded your neighborhood with crack cocaine in order to raise money for illegal activities abroad. You never heard of your grand parents’ thriving busniness community they built from scratch with no help from government get burned to the ground because a young black man looked at a young white woman ‘the wrong way’. You never saw your brilliant, promising and courageous community leaders get assasinated time after time after time, by agents of the government. You never saw any of that.
So, it is very easy for someone like you to pass judgment on a whole group of people whose miseries you can never relate to. This is not to say that I do, but I don’t go around screaming that they are the only ones at fault for not “pulling themselves with their bootstraps” after watching others steal their boots.
How about the recent report by the Civil Rights Project at UCLA which revealed that, despite the election of Barack Obama as the first ‘black’ president of the United States,
“…the U.S. continues to move backward toward increasing minority segregation in highly unequal schools; the job situation remains especially bleak for American blacks, and Latinos have a college completion rate that is shockingly low. At the same time, very little is being done to address large scale challenges such as continuing discrimination in the housing and home finance markets, among other differences across racial lines.”
But I guess this is a work of those ‘intellectuals’ you despise so much who are trying to ‘sell books’ and seek fame. As you astutely put it, ‘nothing to cry and moan about’, right? See the sad thing about people like you is that, even if you yourself experienced some form of racism, I doubt if you have the acumen to recognize it, and if you did, the courage fight it. And this is not necessarily an indictment on you; it is just that, as I said above, you do not have the same experience African Americans have had in this country.
Your dismissal of these ‘intellectuals’ reminds me of the police commissioners and sheriffs of the 60’s like Bull Connor who labeled civil rights leaders like Martin Luther King as “trouble makers” and declared that blacks and whites in the South got along just fine.
Listen ‘Doc’, you sound like a well informed and intelligent young man, please get with the program. Stop sounding like the older generation of Ethiopians in the Diaspora who are the living proof that conservatism and elitism only leads to division and polarization. This is the new ‘O’bama generation, which, despite the increasing systematic and institutionalized racism that was intensified by Bush the last 8 years, pulled together and showed the world that racial harmony is possible.
Finally, may I suggest this reading? It might of some use to you. It is from one of those ‘intellectuals’ who might be trying to sell a book, but he has some interesting things to say about racism in America. But here’s the catch…he’s white!!! Well, whaddaya know doc???!!! In any case, see if you can learn something from this article .
You think Alan Keyes is still pissed at Obama for using him as his punching bag in the 2004 US Senate seat election in Illinois which pretty much ended Keyes’ chance to become a national figure but launched Obama’s political career, eventually to the presidency? It must be hell being Alan Keyes these days.
Well, if you don’t think so, maybe you should watch this video of Keyes. Alan sounds more like a lunatic who just escaped from a mental hospital and is calling for the arrest of his doctor because of he thinks his doctor is insane for treating him.
Just watch this video and see for yourself.
You know, there is a term for people like Keyes, and yes that term is a “House Negro”. But to call Keyes a house negro is to really give all the house negroes of slavery days a bad name because at least one can argue that with them it was a matter of survival. But Alan is soooo desperate to be loved by white racists in the US, he is willing to take a chance in inciting a riot against the president of the United States with his outrageous comments. Alan, you are a free man, you don’t have to say Yessa Massa anymore.
To some he was known as Ketse and to others simply as Mr K. Ketsela Feyesa was not a man of great stature or status in his community. He was not a famous singer, a famous politician or even a famous person. But he was a dear friend to many in the community where he lived a quiet life until last Tuesday February 3rd, 2009 when he passed away due to a stroke he suffered 2 months ago. He was a simple man who didn’t seem to want much out of life except for the simple things it had to offer like friendship, kindness and above all the sharing of laughter. His thirst for friendship and longing for companionship was often reflected on his posts the Coffee House, a make believe cyber bar a few of us cyber friends frequented for the last 5 years at Medrek. Coffee House or CH as it came to be known was a place where some fellow Ethiopians got to know Mr K. I guess you can say he was the proverbial straw that stirred the drinks at the Coffee House. He was everyone’s favorite. Mr K had a way of making you feel at home at CH, without sounding too corny or too crude. He had the perfect tone. Oh yeah, he had his moments too. He had a way of shocking us to our cores with his occasional brutally honest comments on many topics, especially when it was about relationships. But we loved it. In fact, I think it might be one of the many reasons that endeared him to all of us at CH. The Coffee House was his favorite hangout maybe next to his favorite bar in his birth place Arat Killo in Addis Ababa. His warmth, kindness and friendship radiated through the computer screen as real and as genuine as that of an old friend’s from childhood.
Those few who met him in person, to a man or woman, almost in unison, spoke of his sincerity, his warmth, his camaraderie with his fellow Ethiopians and Africans, his benevolence and above all, his sense of humor. I have no words to describe how much I will miss him, but I will try. I know he is probably somewhere making sarcastic comments about what I about to say, but that never stopped me in the past either so here it goes.
Mr K,
As I sit here and write this final note addressed to you, I find it hard to believe that there won’t be the usual witty and at times shocking response I am accustomed to. As difficult as it is to accept, I guess I will force myself to take solace in knowing that this is the only way that I could have the last word with you.
From the few times that we spoke on the phone, I can still hear the rhythmic tone of your voice; the playful, cheerful and relaxing tone that made me feel like I was talking to my favorite uncle or older brother. There was never a time, after I hung up the phone with you, that I did not go back and recount our conversation and chuckled to myself or burst out with laughter at something you said. I will miss that part of you.
I never had the chance to tell you how much I appreciated your words, not just the biting humor and jabbing quips at CH, but the more serious ones, such as your articles and comments on this blog. Your insights about Ethiopian history, US politics, music, education, ethnicity, culture etc were invaluable. You certainly brought a unique perspective to many of these topics.
All I can say now is thanks for the many stories you have shared with us on your adventurous life. Stories like your masterful negotiating skills with “Gadissie” at arat killo, and the time you snuck into the Addis Ababa Palace (bête mengist) to eat some royal food, and the story about your first encounter with the American Mr Bishop at Arat Killo who tried to teach you badminton, and the story about your mentor Kegnazmach from whom you learned about the birds and bees, and your adventurous at Addis Ababa University, and your valuable tip on how to artfully dodge an on rushing Ethiopian priest who is armed with a cross and ready to tap you with it on your forehead, and on and on and on.
Thanks for making those otherwise mundane days at work exciting by making me spit my coffee or water all over the computer screen after reading one of your more revealing posts at CH. Thanks for keeping the lights on at CH and the room warm at our imaginary bar with your tireless humor filled posts. And thanks for making me realize that it is possible to have a dear friend even at this stage of my life.
Mr K, I know you were not much of a religious man, but I guarantee you my friend, whatever that after life is, you will have a special place where you will continue to entertain your fellow souls with your familiar brutally honest and shocking comments even in the after life. I just hope my soul will be lucky enough to meet yours when I finally get where you are.
I guess life will go on and we will all learn to live without Mr K. The lumps in our throats will wane slowly, the heavy load in our hearts will get lighter with each passing day and I know Coffee House will not be the same without you, but I also know that you’d want us to keep it going and we will try our damndest to do so, if not for our selfish reason, as a small but heart felt gesture to keep your name alive. And on a cold Minnesota winter evening, when we feel the warmth at CH, we will know where it is coming from.
Good bye my friend; may you find in the after life what you lost in this one.
Your friend FM
“I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, who has sight so keen and strong
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.”
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
