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Published: June 22nd 2009
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Let them eat cake
Don't mind if I do... So what does it feel like to hit the milestone, 40?
At 30 I gave up smoking, which was a pretty big deal - both for me and Sara, who kind of had to give up too.
At 40?
Well I was going to give up biting my nails. But then that seemed a bit insignificant. Maybe I should give up picking my nose; but then again in Ethiopia that may be a bit difficult. It is a national pastime during the dry season - and when in Rome... 😉
I also do not want to become a 40-something bloater. I've had periods of time when I carried far too many pounds and with high blood pressure and a little packet of pills to take for the rest of my life maybe life feels a bit more fragile than it used to.
I've decided that instead of giving something up, I'm going to do something positive.
I'm going to run a sub-2 hour half-marathon!
My current best is 2.15 (Sara's is 2.05) so that's the plan.
Physically do I feel any different? Not really.
In my last 5 years in my 30's
The sensible posse
"More tea, vicar?" I was probably far fitter than ever before - well since I used to go clubbing in my 20's - having started running half-marathons and 10Ks, as well as playing squash.
Yes my knees and hips ache a bit after a run, but that's mostly down to carrying extra weight and not enough stretching.
Dream no small dreams One aspect of hitting middle age has been that for the last few years my dreams have changed.
Call me shallow but I don't dream about an end to poverty and global harmony. They say dreams are egocentric and so mine are.
I used to dream of scoring the winner in a football world cup final for England or hitting a 6 off the final ball of the final over to win the cricket world cup.
Then as I got older I was the aging substitute, asked to come out of retirement to play a final tournament; and
still scored the winner in injury time.
Recently? Well I suppose most people my age have kids and have transferred their dreams to their kids. Wanting junior to come on and score the winner instead.
Me?
The kids are alright
13-0?? More than alright! Well there is no junior so I guess my crafty mind has morphed the fiction into owning a sports club.
Win the lottery, buy a struggling team (Bristol Rugby anyone?) and turn them into world beaters by putting the right people into the right jobs and sitting back and enjoying a satisfacatory Bath Ale...
...of course, like Ishmail, I need to meet God halfway and buy a lottery ticket!
Anyway, enough of this navel-gazing nonsense. On with Life!
Fight for your right Thanks to Ethiopian Airlines we missed our planned party date of Sunday 24th May, but hey!, nae bother, we'll hold it a week later and include Sara's birthday in the celebration!
In the morning I had been to the 'stadium' to watch the Assosa Strikers (U-15) play Salam Ber ("peace door") school and win 13-0. Yep. 13-0!
These boys are good. They have talent, a dedicated coach and train 3 times a week. I was actually hoping the ref called a halt early as to lose 13-0 (or to win 13-0) doesn't do a player any favours.
Anyway, after the game I mentioned we had a party on in the
afternoon and Matthewos, the coach, kind of did the 'Ethiopian thing'. Ethiopian's have this way of putting you on the spot.
It's clearly a difference in culture.
In England we would never say something like "so shall we invite all 65 of the players to your party this afternoon?" as you would be sensitive to the fact that food had only been prepared for the 15-20 people who had been invited.
You would also be sensitive to the fact that the host would not want to be seen to be rude and say "no way Jose, how can we feed 65 teenage mouths as well as where are they going to sit in our 1 bed bungalow-thingy".
So muggins kind of invited - through paralysis and indecision - all the football club kids to our party.
Sara was, er, not impressed about my admission that maybe 65 kids would be turning up, uninvited, to the ball, in about 3 hours time. The fact they had just won 13-0 cut no ice with her whatsoever...
I'm going to dance and dance and dance...until I'm sick In the end I made a hurried call to
Cutting the birthday cake
Hmm, sense of deja vu all round Matthewos and downgraded the invite to a few good (young) men only.
Our friends turned up in a strangely subdued mood.
Maybe they were geared up for a party the week before? But whatever, most of them were not drinking, had upset stomachs or were taking it easy.
Fortunately the Assosa Strikers were in fine form.
Once Bekema - the ringleader - had jacked up the Ethiopian music on our sound system, in the lads came and turned our living room into a sweaty inferno of adrenaline-fuelled dance.
I was happy as Larry.
Hanging about on the fringes until being drawn into the maelstrom, before emerging coughing and soaked on the hunt for a refill.
Sara and Lesley were both a bit frightened of the swirling mass of young men, but as the guests filtered out, the dancing got faster and more frenzied.
The neighbours were not so shy.
At least two appeared - with kids - to see what all the noise was!
Come 8pm we felt it rude to carry on and the music was killed while the young dudes cooled down to videos on my laptop of
J-Lo and Britney.
As parties in Ethiopia often end, the lights go on and everyone just evaporates.
Bekema - the mad whirling dervish - left with a laugh, though unbeknown to us until the next day, he hit fresh air and vomited it all up. He doesn't drink alcohol - it was just the bouncing off the walls that did it!
So ended my second Ethiopian birthday party. One neither I (or the neighbours) will ever forget 😊
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YERIMA FREDERICK TANGIRI
non-member comment
protecting lifelihood
Volunteer to come over to Ethiopia to provide services to man kind and the underpreveledged. Thanks