1st June 2009

It’s a long time since I’ve been out dancing – in fact, the last time was probably when I went to Harlem Jazz in Addis with U. Okay, so last night I wasn’t exactly bopping away to Justin Timberlake, but there was definitely dancing and a lot of laughter, which is the mark of a good night out for me!

We had visitors to the Project this weekend and on Sunday I decided to take them for some traditional ‘tej’, which is a kind of Ethiopian wine made with honey. There is a great Tej bar in Lalibela where you can drink Tej while traditional Ethiopian singers make up witty songs about everyone in the bar (which of course I can’t understand, so I am constantly hassling Ab to translate so I know what the hell is going on!).

I’ve been there quite a few times but normally it’s just two or three of us and we sit and play cards. Last night there were 6 of us to start with – one of whom had never been to see any kind of Ethiopian dancing or singing, let alone tasted tej! – and we were soon joined by two of the Project’s teachers. Because there was no power, everyone had decided coming out was much more fun that staying in, and the bar was packed. Even the staff of the local airline office were there, possibly on some kind of work outing!

It started innocently enough, with one ‘tej’ each. Tej is an aquired taste – I had one friend say that if it was the only alcohol left in England she would be teetotal! – but I like it. Here it’s served in a choice of three strengths (soft, medium or strong) and I like the weakest version as it’s so sweet. Ab and I stuck to that, but the others went for Strong.

Soon the musicians came over and started singing and dancing for us. Now, these musicians once sang to me that I was “not very thin, but not that fat either, so it’s not too bad” (charming!) so I’m often a little wary of their songs. However, this time they definitely played it the right way by singing that in a beauty competition in the bar, I would win “55 – nil”. This is a good way to guarantee a tip from me!

Then the dancing started. The best known type of dancing in Ethiopia is the ‘shoulder dancing’. It’s literally wiggling your shoulders – which you think sounds really easy and not very impressive, but you’d be wrong on both counts. One of the great unanswered questions of Ethiopia, in my opinion, is how Ethiopians can make their shoulders dance almost entirely independently of their body – it’s a fantastic sight. Another question is how do they make what is essentially a fairly silly dance look so attractive? I swear, I have seen a woman do the shoulder dance in such a seductive way that even I started getting hot under the collar! And I could watch happily watch the men dance for hours …

We had six Ethiopians and 2 faranjis (including me!) in our party, and the dance skill level was directly proportionate to the number of consecutive years spent in Ethiopia … and the level of enthusiasm was directly proportionate to the amount of tej the dancer had drunk. We all had a good go though!

We all danced a lot, drank a lot, and laughed a lot until we were the last people left in the tej bar – we’d even outlasted the power cut! The musicians came and sat with us, and the guy played the Masinko (a traditional Ethiopian instrument which reminds me a little of the banjo) for us. Sadly, he was unable to grant M’s request that he play some Billy Joel songs, but the music he played was beautiful!

When we were finally kicked out of the bar we all piled into the car and trundled up the hill. I had then had the fun of getting one of the visitors up the many, many stairs to my house – not so easy when someone is drunk and not walking in a straight line! I held firmly onto their hand, and nobody fell down the mountain, which was a bonus.

It was a lot of fun, and it’s not often I get the opportunity to be so social. We also provided the locals of Lalibela with some entertainment when we attempted Ethiopian dancing!

Funny, though – or maybe not – that my favourite part of the night was when L and I sat on the wooden veranda outside my house at midnight, looking out onto the dark and sleeping Lalibela, listening to Angie Stone on the Ipod.