"I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together...I am the walrus"
This song was totally written in a sweaty Ethiopian airport.
I board the plane. Wrinkles next to me had obviously never been on a plane before and kept hitting me to show me the safety card. I helped him open his sandwich.
I follow a guy with my name on his paper into his car. He lets me out at a hotel where another man puts me into another car and wishes me goodbye. I'm in a covert operation where every man knows just enough to pass me off to the next.
"Where am I going?"
"Jaubsibwvd&/7)3!/"
"And then?"
"I don't know."
5 car passes and 3 hours later our car pulled over next to an unlit circular hut. It was 8pm, pitch dark, raining and freezing. I was ushered into the hut and given a bowl. I guess it was dinner time. The hut had 14 men and women swathed in scarves. Two candles barely out the room and and a small fire cooked something in a big pot. A clear vegetable soup was ladled into my bowl and I ate it greedily, dipping bread around the edges. I listened to the Amharic voices which clucked with laughter and dipped in and out with the flickering candles.
The dinner hut
After dinner I hiked to the sleeping quarters. Raw beds under a low, warped ceiling. My team is a 100 year old scout and his rifle, my guide and the driver. They took beds on one side of the room and I on another. The scout stood outside, with a towel draped over his head, in the pouring freezing rain, all night.
I was in the middle of wet wiping my muddy feet when a pack of Korean tourists bust in and loudly take the remaining beds.
I may be getting too old for this shit.
Next vacation: piña coladas in Bermuda.
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