January, 2000 –
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia My first trip back home after more than ten years abroad
That day began as did all others during that time. I had a big breakfast at my parent's home and went to one of those trendy cafes on Bole road.
At that time, one could sit all day in the café if one could stand the cigarette smoke. I ordered a Macchiato and some pastry and purchased a news paper. I ate meditatively, reading my news paper. The café was almost empty, with only a couple sitting near me to my right. The girl was petite with dark hair and fair skin, and she was crying. I could not really hear what she was saying but I heard her man keep repeating “impossible” over and over again. Finally he exploded with anger and left the café.
There is something about me. Kittens find me, tourists in need of directions find me, and wayward women all seem to pick me out of any crowd.
A few minutes later I went over to her table.
“Can I join you, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course,” she said,
“Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?”
She nods but changes the subject. We talk for a while. She is not beautiful but she has a graceful quality about her. We talk about me more than her. I am instantly in love with her, but then falling in love is easy and common when you are young and on vacation.
When it becomes noon, I buy us lunch. I find out that her name is "Seble" and that her father is a butcher in Addis. I don’t burden her with the details of my family. We leave the café and walk through the city. It is absurdly hot; but barely noticed it. The day had a timeless quality about it. I can still see her dark auburn hair blowing across her face. Sometimes, late at night, I can hear her voice. We talk for hours about everything and nothing. By the time it starts to darken, I am besotted.
We stop at a local restaurant and eat dinner. Finally she says,
“I am afraid, would you come with me tomorrow.
”I feel a chill. I dread where this might be leading.
“Where would we be going,” I ask.
It is always bad to ask questions for which you don’t want to know the answer.
“I think I need to have an abortion,” she says. “I can’t have this baby. My parents …. I thought he might marry me.
” She cries now. She is shaking as I hold her.
I say something. I say something else. I walk her back to a Taxi. She kisses my cheek. We agree to meet again the next morning at the café. I go back to my parent's home and sit darkness. I close my eyes but cannot sleep.
The next morning I walk as if in a dream to the café. I arrive early and eat something dreadful. I wait. It is just before 9 a.m. She wasn't there.
At noon, I walk back towards the cafe. Nothing.
I eat alone that night and slept. I had dark dreams and wake up before the sun rises. I return again to the café. She did not return that day or any other. I half wish she had.
NIce blog,
abortion is a tough decision even when legislation helps. i wonder what you would have done had you arrived at the appointment. I know people who have had abortions and it leaves people scarred. I think we as people really need to talk about it.
Thanks for visiting
I, for one, am pro-choice so I would have probably supported and helped her with whatever choices she made. In a world full of unwanted and neglected babies, forcing someone to have a baby they don’t want or they are not ready for is not wise. But that is a tricky subject.
Sad but beautifully told. Have you seen her since?
sdaly, no I’ve never seen her since that day and I always wonder what if sha had shown up that next day…..eh