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You Know You're Habesha When

Some time ago I found on youtube, or picked up from a retweet on Twitter I can't remember, a video called 'Typical Habesha' parents. Watching it made me travel back to at least 20 years ago when my dad used to call as if he were stuck in a crashed car about to burst in flames: 'where is my coffee spoon' .... a dancing and ritual interlude to 'bring me my coffee spoon'. That darn spoon was always staring at him from a safe 5 centimeters' distance, waiting for me. If my eyes would so much as begin to roll he'd start a dramatic speech addressed to phantom witnesses about the disgrace of old age and the disgrace of fiendishly uncaring 10 year-old children. It was a tug-of-love between us and I remember this fondly. He's not habesha, nor am I, it's just that this video echoed well creased memories of many a spoon thrown at time and space! I've been hearing (very funny for me but perhaps not so much for those under peer pressure) stories of shared family traditions from friends who come from the Horn, Eritrea, Ethiopia and Somalia, and I bumped into an old page listing 'You Know You're Habesha When', although it's staged in the US, how does it match with you I wonder? My favourite in there is 'Your parents' favourite TV show is the news'. You know I'm talking to you :-). I should attempt a list about 'You Know You're Algerian When' but then it would only have one entry 'When you're angry you throw things and break stuff'....

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