Tigrinya dancing

So, part of this is going to be written tonight and I will finish the rest in the morning. I have so much to say. So, Hannah and I met our friend "Teddy" tonight and went to a traditional Eritrean restaurant with him. When we entered the restaurant, there were people dressed in traditional long white dresses. We sat on small stools that were covered in cow hide around a circular "table". Teddy ordered for us--we had a bunch of stuff that I now cannot remember the name of. The food is served on injera, which is bread made from a grain I have never heard off called teff. It is a flat spongy bread that is like a mating between a pancake and a crepe (I like crepes--lol!) but with a slightly sour taste. No, a lot sour taste when eaten by itself. Then, the "entrees" as we would call them are poured onto a large tray that is covered in a giant piece of injera. You then eat with your hands (kinda sorta like in Along Came Poly, but not really)--the right hand is used to take a small piece of the bread and to take a chunk of the entree, which consists of various meats or chickpea mash. Tonight our entrees included beef with onion very much akin to mexican fajitas, lamb with some sort of red sauce and a chick pea mash (Sorry I can't remember the names of these dishes. Its a miracle that I actually remembered the name of injera). Anyway, dinner was absolutely delicious. We also had some Eritrean beer. I'm not a fan of beer and generally don't drink it, but I drank this because I flew halfway around the world so I figured I should try it. It was stomachable, but I don't think I'll have another. I'm just not a fan of beer.

So, after dinner, we just sat and talked with Teddy about Eritrea and his life, getting the dish on all things mundane and scandalous. I learned that his family has 4 cats and the only reason they keep them around is to keep the house free of mice. They have the cutest names: Sassy, Son of Sassy (appropriately named), Shishi (or something to that effect, and something else. I asked about what they feed them and learned that they just feed them whatever--no cat food here. They come and go as they please and they do sometime bring animals home with them. People do have dogs here also for pets, but we never really see them. We have only seen one since we have been here, but we hear them barking a lot. Again, no such thing as dog food. They do have vets here, but most animals do not go. He also thought it was completely crazy that people keep mice and hamsters as pets.

We learned that most people here live in "villas" which are left over from the time that the Italians were here. He lives in one with 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, etc, which I found to be fairly large. They have income tax here and property tax, but no sales tax. School is free including college and medical school. At the end of high school, everyone takes a standardized test which decides if they will get to go to college or not. Everyone in the country has to do "National Service", which means they have to be a part of the military. You go for at least 6 months of training in case you end up having to serve. If you do well enough in college, you don't have to serve, but if you don't you must. The period of serving is variable--and according to Teddy can be unlimited.

Apparently Rachel and Hannah are both common names here in Eritrea. Pretty much anything from the Bible is a common name although they are pronounced differently of course. In general, you have your first name which I guess is given to you like normal. Then your middle name is your fathers last name and your last name is your paternal grandfather's last name. When women get married, they don't change their names.

We learned that for breakfast people eat commonly tea and one piece of bread or potatoes. Of course, each morning Hannah and I have a full spread here at our hotel consisting of fresh squeezed juice, bread, egg, coffee, etc. We explained that people in the US most commonly eat cereal, granola bars (but I don't think he knows what those are), or oatmeal. I should say that in explaining all of this stuff, there remains a language barrier because the people here don't get to practice their English with English speakers.

I learned yesterday also about the Tigrinya alphabet. The styling of the letters is completely different akin to Arabic, but different from that. They still read from left to right like we do rather than right to left like in Arabic. There is no such thing as a vowel here in their alphabet. Each consontant is written differently with a different styling of the same basic structure based on how one should say it, and each consonant had 7 different ways it is written. For example, the pronunciation of L: lhe, lhu, lhi, lha, lhye, lhi (two dots over the i), and lho. I find this to be so interesting and somewhat complicated. So, L is written as the Greek lambda, but with 7 different styles based on what vowel it is associated with. My name, for example, is only three Tigrinya letter: Rha, hhe, lhe. There are also a bunch of extra combinations of letter that I still haven't figured out.

After eating and talking for a couple of hours, the music started. The styling of this restaurant was in the traditional style with a wooden roof and multiple large wooden pillars to support the ceiling. The initiation of the music was started with three men walking through the restaurant in a sort of march, each with a different sounding flute/clarinet/wooden pole-type instrument that they each tooted at different times to make what sounded like a song. Does that make sense? So, we picked up our things and went into the area of this place where the dancing was held. There was a small stage where the musicians played and then there were dancers that danced to get the party going. The music was all traditional, using instruments that I had never seen before. The dancing was also traditional with not a whole lot of actual body movement. I'm not really sure how to describe it--during the traditional Tigrinya dancing, the people would move their shoulders in a way that was sort of akin to a very slow and controlled "shimmy". The Sudanese dancing was slightly different with a more relaxed way about it. Hannah and I got up and did our one dance during the Sudanese dancing portion. The dancing, although it is much more controlled than what we do in the US, is surprisingly exhausting.

After each dance, the music would completely stop and people would disperse from the dance floor and sit down at the chairs and tables that surrounded the dancing area. With the start of each song, a man would start playing whatever musical instrument he had and then he would start singing. Eventually, this adorable old man with a drum would start dancing and drumming. After some period of him dancing which involved moves that I didn't think possible, people would enter the dance floor and start with the dancing. Surprisingly, there were a whole lot more men than women and there were a whole lot of older men, likely in their 40s to 60s and were very well dressed. The women were generally younger and many were working. I would compare it to a wedding where even there people of all ages dance and let their guard down. But, unlike the US, this is something normal to do here as opposed to a once a year occasion.

After Hannah and I took a number of videos and pictures, the old drummer man made motioning to come dance. So, Hannah went, and I followed suit. We had no idea what we were doing, but it didn't really matter. Teddy translated the first couple of songs for us which were all sung in Tigrinya. One of the songs said, "Young lady, with you the sun will rise. Without you, the night will not be let down. If you say I'm OK, I will throw the Bible and I will not be a priest."

Of all of the things I have done so far since I've been here, this was by far my favorite. I could have stayed there all night and just watched the people. They are so different in the way they act, the way they move, the way they interact with one another, and the way they dress. They are very friendly and inviting and there is just an ease that I have felt since I have been here. I know that I will miss this place.