Fasting the first day on the streets of Addis.

“But you don’t know me,” Getahun Kassaye shouted to my camera motioning to indicate I would like to photograph him. “So why do you want to take a picture of me?” asked the 62-year-old.

For the photographer part of me it was simple. He was a Kodak moment. A bearded grandfather walking his grandchild at the base of a long curving stone alley. A perfect 10.

Without clicking the shutter, I walked across the busy street to talk. It wasn’t long that the retired helicopter-engine repairman for Ethiopian Airlines invited Ryan and me to his home for tea.

Sitting on small sofas in the small whitewashed room with water boiling, Getahun says he’s Orthodox Christian. “Not Catholic, not Anglican, not Buddhist. I’m Orthodox.” From under his layers of shirts and sweaters, he pulls out a small gold cross to prove it.

“Today we start fasting for 55 days.” As he explained the rules of fasting, I thought how fasting is a part of many religions.

I fasted once a week when I was younger. Tonight I finished my glass of red Ethiopian wine and a local banana as I edited the photographs of Getahun. I never captured the Kodak grandfather moment. But the memory of a stranger’s hospitality will last longer than any digital file.
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