Walking into the sun past Kagnew's main gate and its guards one cool morning, I met the usual attack of vultures in the costume of unrelenting vendors. "You want bike?" "You want taxi?" "You want gari cart?" "You want rug?" "You want sword?"
The chorus was the price one paid for walking into the city. Many Americans didn't like to pay it. But a solid "Aiquonen (no)" and a swift pace had you past most of them within a block, most of the time. The effort of fending off the initial barrage was always rewarded by a pleasant walk. ...
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