#kiwoko
Nighttime sounds different here.
The birds sing.
The bugs hum.
From the other side of town comes the beating of some thumping, bumping drum.
Every night feels the same:
Birds sing,
Bugs hum,
From the other side of town comes the beating of some thumping, bumping drum.
At five o'clock the faithful are woken and told to face North, to a city far away.
While for us, we lie prostrate in our beds and turn towards that great black shadow of routine, broken sleep.
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
Ethiopian sunrises are very beautiful, it would appear.
I feel like I am always in Addis
but I've yet to have seen it in the daylight.
Arriving in darkness was no different from the norm,
but I have to say I have been pleasantly surprised by this morning's offering.
Addis appears to be surrounded by peculiar bunches of mountains
that pile up on top of one another.
The dark blue has slowly been replaced by sky,
then yellow,
then pink,
then grey,
then mountain bunch.
I didn't sleep much on the plane.
From about Greece it felt like an age since I had last seen Irish soil.
Why is that?
What is it about travelling that allows time and space to become so closely tethered to one another? It's been barely twelve hours since
I left Sasha, Mum, and Dad in Dublin but it may as well be a year.
I can only hope that this feeling does not overtake me
come the 28th April.
I don't want to have to desperately cling on to the memories of Kiwoko
as they are eroded by the aeroplane's slipstream.
The mountains are getting clearer now.
Varying hues of blue and grey imposed on the horizon.
Off to the East the sky is burning with morning
through thick, white terminal lattice.
There's an impossible to miss radiance
scorching the jagged edge of this Eastern range,
yet it lingers almost imperceptible from the surrounding sky -
as if everything Eastwards is ablaze.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 11:43 AM UTC