2 Weeks in Africa: Getting Coffee, Henna, et Laughter with Cali & Friends

The morning of my last day in Ethiopia was an easy, quiet, slow morning.  I had coffee out of this awesome mug that reads, "My bouti was in Djibouti," something I hope to be able to say truthfully someday.  Is there a country with a more awesome name than Djibouti?  I don't think so.

Cali and I left to go grocery shopping.  In France, it takes me anywhere from 3-5 stores to get all my groceries, depending on what I'm cooking that week.  (Usually: 2 different grocery stores, the vegetable market, the butcher and the baker.)  For Cali, it's usually 5-6.  Because it hadn't rained for so long, (until the week I arrived, and then the rains certainly came!), the cows hadn't been producing milk, so there had been a shortage of it.  As we arrived to one store, the milk man arrived with small bags of milk.  Cali asked if she could buy 10 bags, but he said only 3 bags per person.  As she grabbed 3 bags, I leaned over and reminded her that I was another person.  So I bought 3 bags of milk as well.

We stopped by the coffee store to purchase all the coffee bags that I would take back with me.  Tunisia doesn't really sell good coffee, so the Real McCoys had asked me to bring back as much as I could fit in my suitcase.  Since I only had 3 outfits of clothes and my toiletry bag (I'd given everything that I'd brought with me to Fanose and the Compassion project), I put all my clothes into my carry on, wrapped around the traditional Ethiopian coffee pot I'd bought as my souvenir.  My toiletry bag easily fit into the front pouch of my suitcase, which left it empty and ready to be filled with coffee.  I bought 17 500gram bags.  Wowzah.  And let me just say--it is oh so good.

That afternoon, we went back to Happy's house for another language time for Cali.  Happy made camel meat sambosas for me.  Yum.

They also had carrots and onions in them.  They were so good.  Even better: she remembered I'd like the donut holes and made more of those for me.  The salty and the sweet together was just delightful!

Happy's friend came over to do my henna.  I was geared up and ready to sit still for a few hours.

Because their skin is so dark, it's rare for sub-Saharan Africans to use regular red henna, because it won't show on their skin.  Often they use black hair dye.  I'm not sure what she used, she just assured me it wasn't harkoos (a black plant often used instead of henna in North Africa that many white-skinned people are allergic to and that can scar one's skin).

It was really liquidy and I was sure it was going to run, but it stayed in place.

One arm down, another to go.  The ladies were surprised that I "only" wanted my forearms and feet done.  I assured them no one would see any other part of me, so there wasn't any reason to do more.

After the bumpy ride in the uncomfortable van for 8 hours the day before, my backside was a wee-bit sore, so sitting still with my feet up for hours while she did my feet and I waited for them to dry was um, awkward.  All I wanted to do was get off my bum.

Once all four limbs were finished, I had to sit and wait for it to dry.

These are what it looked like after it all dried and flaked off.

My hands and arms faded within a week, but my feet are still going strong three weeks later.

Back in France, a very old woman approached me in the grocery store and said, "I want to get henna done just like yours.  Where did you have it done?"  I told her, "Africa, actually."  She continued, "Well, I want it done just like yours.  Can you tell me where to have it done like that?"  I stared for a moment and said, "Um...in Africa?"  She continued to talk to me for several minutes all about henna and how it's temporary and comes off but you have to sit still until it's dry.

I just listened to her talk since I really didn't have the heart to tell her that I understand how henna works...seeing as I already had it done.

Back to Ethiopia and the henna party.  While I was being henna'd up, the others played a few more rounds of their game, laughing all the while.

At this point, Mohammed was explaining to his cousins here why he thinks having four wives would work just fine.  The women were explaining why it wouldn't.  (Mohammed doesn't even have one wife yet, and so one of the arguments was that if a woman knows he plans on having more than one, he'd have a hard time getting even one to agree to marry him!)

Once my henna was dry, it was time for us to go.  We had fun and so much laughter taking group selfies.

This group was so dynamic and full of silliness and laughter!  I enjoyed every minute with them!

That night, I curled up with the kids on the couch to watch Frozen.  Fun times.

Cali's husband took a photo of us before he headed to bed.  We stayed up late talking, catching up on what old friends are up to nowadays, and anticipating next steps in both our lives.  It was a sweet evening.

And then my taxi came at 1am, and I headed to the airport.  My flight left at 3:55am!!!  And just like that, I was headed back to Tunis.  I loved Ethiopia way more than I ever expected to, and have said that I'd like to go back again.  Time will tell.