delightful moments

Had a few delightful exchanges today while out and about town... fluid moments in time, where you share laughter, companionship, and joy on this fine line that is the "present", second by second converting the future into the past.

Buying a pair of rubber house slippers at the roundabout in our sub-city, at a corner stall we walk by regularly... we are greeted by a smiling young man with a depth in his eyes that exceeds his age. With my broken Amharic phrases (since I can't form a sentence yet), and his grasp of English... he searches through the mound of shoes to find my size selasa-smint (38) -- his eyes sparkle "Oh... 8," he says. The middle-aged man inside the stall is the one who answers my question of how much they cost (senta-new?)... "hulet meto amsa" (250) he says. We smile, I tilt my head back, switching to English "Last price?" His eyes flash with an understanding that I know the correct bargaining questions... and he answers me in English, "230... 20 birr discount" and he turns to another customer. I look back to the younger lad... he sees my hesitation. I know I'm not getting a deal, but I really want the shoes. He coaxes me in English, "It's a good price." I wink at him and then, as playfully as possible, shoot back: "Yes, it is good. But hulet meto (200) is better." He breaks out into laughter and the other customers (2 young women) also chuckle as they watch. Bemused, the middle-aged shop owner casts me a sideways look and trying to act a bit annoyed, says, "Go. Take them." Still chuckling, the young women say delightedly: "very good... he accepts!" The young lad quickly bags them, still beaming, hands them to me and gives a hearty handshake goodbye. I tell them we will come again... especially if they break. ;-)

Further down the way, we interact with some vegetable (atkilt) selling ladies. We are learning the words for tomatoes (timatim), potatoes (denitch), onions (shuncourt), carrots (karot), and other vegetables. There are several kinds of greens, which you cook differently. One I recognize as gomen or what we know as collard greens. The other one is more like a mix between spinach and bok choy, and I suddenly realize I don't know the English word for it either. (Now, in the States, I can clearly differentiate between my mustard greens, collard greens, turnip greens, spinach, bok choy, kale, and lettuces. But here, I want to relinquish my English labels and anchor what I'm seeing, tasting, touching with the local label/word. That's part of the language learning process.) I point to the spinach looking green and ask what it is, "mindinao?" I regret to say, I do not remember the answer... it takes many times hearing it. Then I review the things I've learned, pointing and repeating the name. I point to the collard greens, "gomen" but I am corrected, "No! habesha gomen!" (meaning "Ethiopian goman") I point to the cabbage, "mindinao? .... " Then suddenly, before they can answer, I try to be funny and ask, "ferengi gomen?" (white-foreigner gomen?). But AT THE SAME TIME, one of the other older ladies also decides to be funny and shouts out "ferengi gomen". We end up speaking in stereo. Laughter ripples amongst the 3 side-by-side stalls, and smiles all around.

Little moments. Laughter breaking down differences and uniting us in seconds of understanding amidst language and culture barriers. It's a beautiful thing... this really being all the same. :-)