I Like To Move It Move It: The Ethiopian Way
ETHIOPIA
I really wondered if this bopping song, “I like to move it move it” was inspired by watching local Ethiopian dancers. You might be inclined to think that a tiny stopover couldn’t possibly pack in yet another night of dancing … but, within 13 hours, we actually managed not only to be mesmerized by indigenous talent but also jammed at two local late night clubs.
The silver lining of having such an ambitious agenda meant that we spent the least amount of time in the (super) shady airport hotel. Creatively coordinating currency exchange and transport gave us access to Yod Abissinia, a cool and cultured restaurant that served a delicious menu while showcasing live performances. My previous visits to Addis left a flavour that was about to be rewritten, after all, today was a special day of celebration for the Orthodox community.
Being used to communicating in a language that was at least somewhat familiar, trying to order off a menu with only words meant we got way more than our bellies could manage. No matter though, be it the kitfo, fuul or beyainatu, these top dishes with the injira landed differently on me this time.
The veggie and lentil options highlighted spice permutations that seemed like remixes from my routine, so my hands took advantage of my tongue by scooping in even more mouthfuls as I tried to discern and deconstruct the various combinations.
To top it off, I was (easily) lured into having a shot of Ethiopian espresso - how could you not if it was served with a side of fresh popcorn?!
Like the stereotypical image of the engrossed movie watcher, I shoved scoopfuls of savoury into my mouth while my eyes equally widened in amazement. The line up of dancers was akin to watching a sequence on stage at a high-end performing arts studio.
Strong young lads leapt and leveraged their bodies in ways that made you wonder if those muscles even existed inside your skeleton. Rhythmic seizes showcased synchronicity that only a few could do.
When the locals also jumped onto the stage, then it clarified that the ability to move one’s shoulders, back and neck in this way was genetically ingrained and/or culturally entrenched.
Stunning in her red dress, she slithered on stage from the audience. Wasting no time, she solidly shook her body with an air of confidence and sensuality that highlighted jiggling while somehow leaving (a little) something to the imagination.
The voluptuous moves reverberated as she rolled and roused, transmitting the dance right up to the crinkles of her hair.
We filmed and cheered the artists and lay people performing. Secretly, I hoped that their wriggling and grinding could somehow extend to aid my belly digest.
Just as the energy was going to crescendo, the flickering fellas got fancier with their moves … up side down! The crowd went wild with hooting and grooving in their own little islands of company. It never ceases to amaze me at how connection and community seems so fundamental and natural in Africa.
That we should dance and eat, cry and cheer, live and learn together is a notion of social networking that science is now confirming as critical … don’t we want to emulate the blue zones lifestyle in our own lives?
My eyes scanned the cultural hall that hosted this song and dance. The high ceilings and colourful walls depicted local stories, each highlighting moral lessons and prized values. Around there was a sea of white, where for the most part, women dawned simple cotton dresses - it was only their fine features and hair that set one apart from the other.
When the show ended past midnight, we transitioned to the club scene. Climbing stairs to the party on the seventh floor, the broken elevator easily separated those who were sorted from those that needed serious support to stay standing. The dance scene here too revolves around tables (unfortunately), so when the turntable stopped, on the recommendation of some Tanzanians in the stairwell, we braved the underground clubbing scene. With the grunge and glib that greeted me in Addis, club hopping here foreshadowed similar upcoming dancing moments in North America.
I like to move it move it indeed, yet by the wee hours of the layover, a quick nap was needed to help transition from West to Central Africa - after all, it was time again to focus on community connections.
Short but jam packed literally and figuratively, this Ethiopian escapade will go down in the books!
May we have (and take the) opportunities to jiggle and jam, injecting playfulness in Life’s dance,
Loved your awe inspiring story of your experience in Addis. I wish I could dance like the Ethiopian locals 💃