The last time there was a revolution around here one reason was the hike of a few cents in petrol prices. The cabbies were up in arms. No wonder if some find that surprising. I mean seeing the behavior of most of the cabbies these days, red is the last color that comes to your mind. Yes, the picture of Ché Guevara is all over their windshields. The only difference between him and Brad Pit and Ché is that Brad’s doesn’t wear the beret with the red star.
Yes, the cabbies of yesteryears do claim a few chapters in the political life of this country. Luckily, there were no politicians or ‘activists’ trying to snatch away the cabbies’ credit in those days! Yes, the cabbies refused to roll, and instead the revolution rolled, kept rolling furiously and the rest is history. Fast forward, and with the horribly torn up jeans and tattoos looking like a sorcerer’s playbook, the cabbies of these days appear more of a rapper whose onstage obscenities force the cameras to turn off.
Speaking of revolutions ask someone,
“Do you like Ché Guevara?”
“Ché who?” How can he… “Ché Who” me when you have his picture on the corner of his car’s windshield!
“The guy whose picture you pasted there.”
“Oh, that one! I like his beret.”
Don’t we all like his beret? I mean who cares about the guy’s beliefs. These days it is not about beliefs! It’s about playacting!
Ask the many cabbies what Ché’s picture was doing in their car:
“Well, I like him.”
“Do you know who he actually is?”
“Who cares?” Yes. Who cares!
The past few days the price of beer has spiked out of reach of many beer lovers. Of course, no one is talking about a revolution! But most are already talking about, what else, alternatives! And the debate lurks, “Ginger tea has more consequences than beer!” Really! Look, there is something classic about having a few rounds of beer with friends. A few beers after a tough week is not asking too much.
I’m not sure if this country has a drinking problem. I haven’t seen any through study other than what most of us say, “People are drinking twenty nine days a month; where do they get all that money from?” someone once told me that many office works who go out for lunch wet their throats with a few shots of tej.
“But tej doesn’t hide your secrets! People within a hundred meter radius would know.”
Not to worry. They say there are chewing gums and candy bars which do the job.
“Hey where did you get that chewing gum? It smells so sweet!”
The first couple of beers, it’s warm up time. Just to get the ball rolling, or ‘oiling the machine.’ But seventh round! That’s when all of a sudden the life we all have been complaining about starts looking like… Paradise! Everybody and everything looks so beautiful; Heaven can wait, since we’re in the middle of its earthly version. The things about which you talk halfway through your second beer, and the things you talk about after the last drops of the seventh bottle, what a difference!
Well, that feeling would soon be history. I’ll tell you why. With the current prices few would reach bottle number three let alone enjoying the seventh really chilled bottle! Times when a hundred birr got you the most enjoyable and memorable date are long gone. (These days, if you go for a long night out with a hundred birr in your pocket, someone should make you the poster boy of misplaced optimism. Either you’re living in a completely different world, or you are a Houdini type magician turning a ten birr note into hundred one with the snap of your fingers.)
Enter the local drinks; Good old tela and tej, and. of course, the carpet-bomber katikala would reclaim the front row seats they have been denied for so long. The slogan would be something like, “Buy local! Drink local!” The morning shuro fitfit for the hangover rounds up our love for the local. Now, could anyone be any more patriotic?
“Hi sweetie, how are you?”
“Hi! You know, I was about to call you.” No, she wasn’t. The “I was about to call you,” line has become a sort of common denominator to make people believe we think of them. Facebook informs you. It’s so and so’s birthday. Tell her you’re thinking about her.
“Do you have some place to go Saturday afternoon?”
“No; planning to take me out?”
“Yes, sweetie; I’ll buy the best tella you ever tested.”
“What! What did you just say?”
“I said…”
“I know what you said! Tella! Really! You’re asking me to drink tella!”
“Wha…what is wrong with it?”
“Nothing! Nothing is wrong with it! What’s wrong is me talking to YOU!” The line goes dead; so does the relationship. So, you Casanovas out there rushing to replace the beer take it step at a time; your ‘left ribs’ aren’t going to take things that easily!
Tela, tej, and katikal… forgive us for turning our backs on you for so long. We’re coming back. There is no place like home! Ha!
The Ethiopian Herald Friday 28 February 2020
