So that is why my friendship with Igigiyew has been such a blessing. She and her husband run a small shop that adjoins their living quarters. How perfect is that! She can “work” while we hang out. She is young (I think she eventually decided that she is 23 years old), has been married for a couple of years, has no children, and speaks NO English. She is also very patient and easy-going, which is a critical aspect of our friendship. My Amharic is still pretty poor, but she is amazingly patient and somehow we communicate just fine.
She’s one of the few Ethiopians I’ve met that will speak slowly and try a variety of words and gestures until I get a clue as to what she is talking about. I help her in the shop, we cook together, go to market together, listen to music (I’m gradually trying to introduce her to some of my music), play cards (skip-bo and Uno are favorites), and simply “hang out”. And, get this, we even “talk” on the phone. I have to admit that having a phone conversation in Amharic is one of the most difficult things. In fact, I dread it. When the phone rings and I glance at the screen to see one of my Ethiopian acquaintances or colleagues is calling, I have a visceral reaction. My heart rate accelerates, a cold sweat breaks out, and the butterflies in my stomach take flight. Between the poor network connection and the lack of any visual cues, I find it difficult from the first “hello”. But, with Igigiyew…it doesn’t seem to matter. We proceed through the litany of greetings, make arrangements to meet, and laugh when I realize that my response doesn’t even come close to matching her question. How have I survived 6 months without her friendship?!?!
My new friend Igigiyew.
While sitting in the middle of her shop, Igigiyew gives me a lesson on how to make shiro.
