I’m beginning to learn more complex sentences in Amharic. I can now tell people that “I know a little Amharic”, “My friend does not have a tv” “Whose books are these?” or “Give me five cowskins, please!” It still takes quite a lot of energy to pick up this type of information when you listen to a native speaker but little by little I’m getting there… Today I also discovered that tv is not only the same ”tv” in Amharic: the older generation calls it ”meskota seita” - devil’s window!   

The Murakami quote in the previous post was sent to me by a friend who wanted to introduce me to the works of this writer. I was mesmerized by her choice for the quote - I have actually dreamt of being in the bottom of a well too! There were no peeing Mongolians in my dream but instead I watched the night sky and the stars that I could see from the hole far above me, and the water was cold. I’m not an expert on Chinese or Japanese cultures but to my understanding the well is always considered a very positive sign, naturally because it’s a water source and water of course is something good and precious. Why would the Mongolian soldiers pee in the well? I’m not that far in the novel yet.

I was at some point very interested in Jung, who wrote somewhere about the old Chinese game or method called I Ching. You consult sticks or coins in order to obtain an answer or a piece of advice to tricky life situations or questions that burn your mind. The answers are in no way ready-made solutions but symbols, that contain complex philosophical knowledge rooted in Chinese culture, and you need to work out what the true meaning of the answer in your case may be. A bit like interpreting your own dream.

I tested the I Ching in practise and I got the same answer three times in a row: The Well. But I can’t remember what my question was!

“Watching the white clouds of the Mongolian soldiers’ breath bloom and vanish in the darkness, I felt as if a strange error had brought me into the landscape of someone else’s nightmare.”

 ”At first I thought it was rain, but I was wrong. It was urine. The Mongolian soldiers were all peeing on me where I lay in the bottom of the well. I looked up to see them in silhouette far above me, taking turns to come to the edge of the round hole to pee. There was a terrible unreality to the sight, like a drug-induced hallucination. But it was real. I was really in the bottom of the well and they were spraying me with real pee.”

Haruki Murakami

I’m expecting a book delivery by post. As it happens, a couple of times earlier friends have sent me a parcel and for some inexplicable reason they were always returned to the sender with a cross over my perfectly clearly and correctly written name and address. Once the parcel was labeled “Unknown” as if I had ceased to exist or started a new life like Pirandello’s late Mattia Pascal, who went to gamble in Monte Carlo was it? 

Well, now I have learnt that it is not the post that delivers these parcels in this country - or in this commune - the classique “it’s not us!” defence was uttered from behind the counter when I expressed my dissatisfaction of the service at the post office. It is the taxipost who delivers packages, not the post. 

Today I found a note in the mailbox saying that the taxipost had tried to deliver my books, but I was out of reach. Mr. Murphy strikes again… So I called them to fix a second delivery, that I can now expect to happen some time tomorrow. Typically, their estimated delivery time is between 9am and 7pm!  These companies are still stuck with the era of housewives who are always home, polishing the silver and making dinners to their hard working husbands? Oh, pauvre Belgique! 

The French logic strikes again… Someone had left a finger wipe tissue (with natural lemon extracts) on the table. This product of France labels itself as “Rince-doigts” so where an Englishman wipes his fingers with tissue, his French neighbour rinses them. 

Another example of this uncomprehensible logic is from a soft drink (or mineral water or whatever) ad on the street: “Revitalise ta soif!” Does this mean that by drinking this product you actually stimulate your thirst and make it stronger, revive it?

And one more, that I almost must have got used to by now: almost every shop in the town welcomes their customer with the “Entrée libre” sign. 

Have you ever been to a shop with an entrance fee?