By: Staff Contributor
For years, holidays were a bit of a puzzle to me. Sure, the anticipation was fun, but the actual day? All the family gatherings, the food, and the preparations it felt overwhelming, even though I never actually did any of the work! My mom and aunt always had everything covered. The day itself usually ended up being boring. Tradition meant everyone stayed home, or maybe popped over to a relative's, so I'd just watch a movie, visit a few family members, and then...sleep. That was my holiday routine. I never helped with any preparations.
Sometimes I’d go out with friends for the eve, but that was it. I just didn't get the big deal. I wasn't passionate about doro wot or other holiday foods. And the coffee ceremony? Don't even get me started. It was so long, and all I wanted was the coffee itself, without the lingering smell on my clothes (I know, I know, some people love it, but I just never did). My husband even joked, "Are you sure you're Ethiopian?" I was a bit of a rebel, I guess. I didn't love the idea of culture and social rules, even though I usually followed them. Deep down, they felt like shackles. I never wore traditional clothes for holidays, always opting for a casual look. And I was skeptical of some traditions, their origins never quite making sense. Looking back, I realize our ancestors were much wiser than I gave them credit for. I was wrong to think they lacked our modern knowledge.
Then, something clicked. Perhaps it was simply growing up, but I began to truly look forward to holidays with my family. Although we typically go to my mom's, I've even started to feel a pull to create my own holiday experience—imagining myself in the kitchen, preparing everything, and welcoming my family into my home.
Picture this: the air smells amazing, like roasting coffee. It's a deep, rich smell, with a little bit of sweetness as the beans pop. It makes you feel warm and cozy, like something wonderful is about to happen. People are laughing and talking, the fire's crackling, the coffee pot is bubbling, and kids are chattering excitedly. It's a really nice, comforting atmosphere.
The festive spread is a feast for the eyes and the stomach. Dishes overflow with vibrant colors and tempting aromas: the rich, savory scent of wot mingles with the fragrant steam rising from injera. There's the subtle spice of traditional bread. The warmth of the fire, the smooth, cool coffee cup in your hand, the taste of the slightly bitter, intensely aromatic coffee – it's a sensory symphony, a harmonious blend of sights, sounds, smells, and tastes. The coffee ceremony isn't just a ritual; it's the heart of the holiday, binding everyone together in a tapestry of warmth, laughter, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Seeing how other people celebrated, wearing their traditional clothes, sparked something in me. I wished I could have that colorful, cozy holiday feeling too. Now I look forward to the coffee tradition, even though I'm still not crazy about the smell. I look forward to gathering with my family, eating, talking, and laughing over coffee. I wouldn't have it any other way. I've become more patriotic, appreciating my culture more than ever.
It's funny how we rediscover and reinvent ourselves. It's beautiful to see how our values change and realize the wisdom we've gained. Life experiences have challenged and humbled us. It's not the same for everyone, and sometimes we miss the good old days. Maybe things were better back then. Perhaps it's true what they say about women getting better with age, like wine, because I like the person I've become, how much I've matured and learned (though I still have a long way to go). Don't get me wrong, aging has its downsides – wrinkles and gray hair aren't exactly thrilling – but I look forward to becoming finer, more refined, mature, and wise. The petty things that bothered me when I was young don't anymore. Now I have real-life problems, not just made-up ones in my head. Looking back, I realize how naive I was. I wish I could rewrite some chapters, but you have to be young and, well, less wise, to become old and wise. So I leave it at that and take the lessons. Cheers to growing old!