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solomon picked up the bike in the morning to do the final repairs. when he said that he wanted to test-drive it first i said no. there was no need for a test ride before everything was done. he agreed and drove off.
i was in a better mood than during the previous days and i decided to go for a walk around gonder. this was the first time that i had a proper look at the town since, in february, i had just been lying in my bed and this time i had only been moving from the hotel to the workshop and back.
it's quite a pleasant town with an impressive castle, as well, as other ancient buildings. when i accidentally passed the workshop i noticed that my bike wasn't there - nor was solomon. he arrived five minutes later and his face showed embarrassment at the fact that i had caught him at taking the forbidden fun ride. "just a test drive!" he exclaimed, smiling at his own incredibility. i was in too much of a good mood to say something and let it be.
i spent some time at the work shop and talked to an US-ethiopian family that was visiting the owner of the house. they now live georgia and were on vacation to show their kids, a little boy and a girl, where they came from.
the boy was a typical eight year old big-mouth and a funny little chap. he couldn't see enough of my tattoos, which he found "baaad, maaan!" and almost ripped my shirt off in order to see ones on my back. then he insisted that i would take photos of him which showed him as a gangster-rapper. he was very convincing.
back at the hotel i met an american peace-corps volunteer who joined me for diner. after a little (unintended) night time tour around gonder we found a small traditional restaurant with dim lights, low tables and sofas and dressed-up waiters. the food was tasty, but the main attraction was a domesticated duck that ran from table to table to pick up food rests.
on the way back gonder looked like a different place as we walked through little muddy alleys. the only source of light came from oil lamps inside little make-shift shops that sold everything from soap to rice and cooking pots. people walked by, slowly and silently, like shadows, contrasting just slightly against the dark, cold, night with only a thin slice of a new moon in the sky overhead. the hectic and aggressive mood of the day time had given way the howling of dogs, to whispers and to faint, oriental, music coming from crackling radios inside small houses that were only visible as faded silhouettes. i could smell burning charcoal, spices and sewage. i suddenly liked ethiopia.