And so it begins!  We packed, we drove, we arrived at the airport, check baggage, said tearful goodbyes, Tom had his chocolate flavoured peanut butter confiscated and a couple of hours later we boarded our delayed flight -plane probably built in the70's.  Pretty calm flight with peter snoring beside me, I read, and read and read and had no sleep whatsoever but that's nothing abnormal.  We finally arrived, disembarked and joined Africa Time!  That wonderful wonderful lifestyle where the time it takes to do something doesn't matter, where life isn't moving from one thing to the next but living and happening to do different things periodically on the way.  Fabulous! We bought our visas, picked up our packs and were met by Father Woldemeskel who would take us to a Catholic school just on the outskirts of Addis for the night until we caught our flight to Addigrat in the morning.

Balmy weather, sparsely green hills in the distance and in the minority of the skin colour, everything was just as it should be. We climbed into the back of Abba's truck and immediately found ourselves disobeying one of the key rules we had been instructed to follow before we left England 'always wear your seatbelt'.  There were none... But we made it through the winding capital alive.  Africa was just as I'd remembered it, entrenched in Africa Time, each person at their own pace, lots and lots of little booths selling everything you could ever imagine wanting or needing -or not- and a completely mind boggling juxtaposition of what always seems to me to be almost a medieval living standard combined with post-modern materialism and lifestyle.  Totally bizarre and wholly unique; I loved it.  

A 20 minute journey through pedestrian traffic, unmarked and sometimes paved roads, u-turns, goats crossing the streets in the middle of the capital, human traffic lights and much more we pulled into an unpaved drive, through a gate and into the school complex where we'd be spending the night.  Primary through high school kids and all very curious to see who we were.  They crowded shyly around the bus watching us timidly while we unloaded.  We put our stuff in our rooms and went down for some breakfast and tea before grabbing a frisbee and heading back outside.  After a short tour of the main buildings of the school trailed by silent shadows, we collected on pavement and started throwing.  We quickly had 20 or so kids clambering to catch and throw, whether or not they actually knew how.  A few brave ones asked 'what's your name' always the same opening question.  We had a few diversions of throwing kids into the air, being towed off to see the house they were building in the gravel of the football pitch and stopping to see the shirts some were embroidering to sell to older siblings who worked in the market.  A second disc and a football soon joined the fun and Peter and I had the treat of being herded off to one of the classrooms where we were introduced to the students and they sang us a song; I swear every African is born with an innately beautiful voice and a truly marvellous gift for music.  They were soon all rounded up for lunch of fresh bread and rice .  They're all happy, healthy inquisitive kids, though the language barrier usually forced us all to resort to hand gestures and speaking really slowly -though it made no difference- after 'what's your name?  I managed to nearly win a game I had no idea of the rules for until the girl in the middle smiled tentatively at me and I returned it questioningly and was informed through their sudden laughter that the point was not to laugh.  Oh. 

We had lunch with the teachers and staff; polenta, beets, tomatoes, meat and a pancake bread I can't remember the name of.  I had some difficulty eating a lime smelling, orange tasting fruit but still managed to enjoy it.  After lunch we could all feel our eyelids closing and our feet dragging, but we returned outside.  The kids were really great, they followed you around, asking questions and chattering about you to everyone around them.  I was sitting on a bench with some of the subs for an impromptu volleyball game when the girls decided they were really interested in my hair.  They proceeded to take it down, brush it, braid it, unbraid it, rebraid it then unbraid it again and then rebraid it again and again in all different styles, tiny little braid close to my head, loose braids, a few big braids, braids that zig-zagged across my head, everything you could think of and they really enjoyed it.  So much so that when Peter came to find me saying we had to go get our plane tickets for the morning I had a 1/3 of my hair in yet another style of braids and the rest of it standing up at the most ridiculous angles. 

How I love hats, they can make anyone respectable.  And so with my hair shoved up under my hat we all went back into Addis central. Tom and I immediately fell asleep in the back, the motion of the truck too tempting to our jetlagged minds. 

In the travel agency Abba seemed to know everyone.   We sat and quietly observed as wads of money exchanged hands for tickets and I admired the yellow roses sitting in a vase in front of me.  They're probably the most beautiful roses I'd ever seen.  Then suddenly one of the two men behind the desk whom I hadn't even noticed leaving appeared by my side with 10 fresh roses saying his sister had a booth nearby.  Completely scarlet, I thanked him profusely and wondered how I would get them through the flight. 

Flights sorted, we took a small tour of Addis but by then all 3 of us were just beyond exhausted so Abba stopped by the seminary and we got to have a tour of that and then some truly wonderful  tea and coffee.  It worked wonders!  We're now all waiting for dinner,  Abba and Abba are strolling back and forth murmuring together contentedly, Peter and Tom are playing Table Tennis and the other three students and teachers have slowly drifted off after a checkers game.  And my first proper thunderstorm in years is slowly moving on.  So happy to be here!