You do hear the birds…

I fainted.

Passed out.

Lost consciousness.

It was the most un-Ethiopian thing to do. Most — Gone with the Wind. Unfortunately for me, there wasn’t a fussing niece-by-marriage with smelling-salt next to me. Infact, when I come to I was lying on the floor, wedged between my kitchen cabinet and my metal-mesh trash can [which got banged out of shape from my weight]. I looked up and saw, just the way you see in the movies, things separate from one another. First drawer doors, then bulb, then roof, then walls, then back to the kitchen cabinet doors I was laying against like a lump. Then a vague recollection of where I have seen those things came to me, where I have seen them last! A distant feeling of where I might be. Then I heard “the birds”. They were raising from the back of my head, my “majirat”, as we say. Raising slowly and noisily. And, with every flattering of wing, the fog that has covered my brain was lifting, leaving me with a cold sweat that was helping wake me up.

I closed my eyes for a few minutes, drained from the effort it took to concentrate. [Leave me alone, my mind waved away the mental arm that was trying to shake me out of my slumber, Leave me alone! I am going back to sleep!]. Then opened my eyes again, terrified at the thought of being in a place I didn’t entirely know. Doors. Bulb. Roof. Walls. Then kitchen cabinet doors. I realized that this was my kitchen. My kitchen! I’ve lived there only for about a week, remember?!, that must be why it didn’t come to me immediately when I first saw it – from the bottom-up. Everything was brand new, almost uncomfortablly surface-shiny, but this was my kitchen. Its a place I can trust myself in. That spinning, that was me, not this strangely familiar place with its shiny appliances and stagnant air.

I was too exhausted to think. So supported my head on the doors and slipped into a dazed sleep.

It was the flu. A winter flu I got from an ex I made out with a day after new year. He wanted to come over. I wanted him to come over more. So when he said “By the way, I am recovering from the flu. I hope that won’t be a problem”, I told him it wasn’t. I didn’t have the flu-shot, true, but this was me we were talking about! The sole survivor, the only woman-standing, of many a flu-attack that has taken down my colleagues through the years. When people are taken to hospitals or surrounding themselves with relatives to make their final will; I walked to work and performed my duties – with running nose, teary-eyes and super sensitive skin that makes me sneeze at the breath of wind. I was so healthy, I bragged, it bothers me. Just bring yourself around and be quick about it.

So he came over. And, reader, I kissed him, teeth, tongue and all; taking a break only when he came out to cough.

About a week later,