I miss Jabu. In fact, I miss hearing the names Ayanda, Mpho, Dineo, Sechaba... I miss the smiling faces of African people. Black skin here is covered by a street-cleaner's green Sukleen overall or housekeeper's aproned, light-blue outfit. It's silly how I feel connected to these people I don't even know just because they've come from the same continent as me; but at the same time I'm so disconnected because they're never out in the places I frequent in Beirut. That's why, when I heard the sounds of the Ethiopian band playing at the opening of the new Gemmayzeh rooftop bar Coop D'Etat, I couldn't stop myself from joining the African ladies showing off their sway on the dancefloor... to reconnect with my continent. What a refreshing night out, seeing fifty-year-olds next to twenty-year-olds - from Lebanese and Ethiopian to Dutch, Danish, American, British, Irish and South African.
Waka waka yeah yeah!