Abban koo sii jalaadha

13 March 2012

Fifty-nine years ago today my dad graced the world with his presence. 

 I wasn’t graced with it until 1987 (or should I say 1986 to be more precise?) and though I am growing older too, I seem to regress each year into a daughter who adores her father endlessly. In case you haven’t heard: my dad is awesome!         

Accordion Festival in Cotati, California

     In Ethiopia fathers are exceedingly proud of their children (“I have 6+ kids!!!” Many men tell me as If it was a solo act) though the actual upbringing and day-to-day child rearing is the work of the mother. Traditionally, fathers are the disciplinary decision makers who bring home the money. Aside from the wife, the eldest daughter is second in line to help with household chores and making the dad comfortable at home. This includes washing the father’s hands before and after a meal and sometimes his feet. Being subservient to the household male is the utmost humble act (even if this male may decide you don’t need to get an education, or arrange your marriage). I’ve met a number of upstanding Ethiopian men and fathers who do not subscribe to the traditional role and instead play an active and nurturing role in their children’s lives. More often I see men who are rarely home and spend their time outside of work walking the streets and having coffee with their friends while at home the frenzied household is washing, cooking and cleaning all day long. Gender roles and especially parenting is a totally different game here in Ethiopia.

          For an endless amount of reasons my childhood was dramatically different from that of most Ethiopian children. Instead of playing the part of a commanding presence that’s often absent my dad has been a constant companion. My father figure frequently cooked dinner for me garnishing each meal as though I was an elite guest at a high-end restaurant… even if this guest requested fish sticks or Spaghetti-Os. The son of a beautician, my father frequently conditioned, combed and braided my hair each night when I was little. He has always been very supportive of me, even when I didn’t deserve it. As a kid I was occasionally very sassy, dishonest and extremely hyper-active. My dad was the only one who laughed when I asked him to “pick me up so I can slap your face.” He was also the only one to stay with me on the ski hill as I cried in frustration learning to ski, snowboard or simply because I was too cold. Through all the desperate phone calls after failed college exams, heart breaks, accordion concerts and excursions abroad my dad has gone above and beyond dad duties and has landed himself the role of best friend, role model and occasionally wailing wall.

Dad, even though I have never once washed your feet and I don’t make you dinner nearly as often as you do for me please know that I do love you! I wish I could have been with you to celebrate your birthday today. My gift for now is this overt public display of affection and some pictures to remind you of all the fun we have together. I miss you dad! 

Snowboarding in New Mexico

Antigua, Guatemala