Today the masenko is still used in public religious celebrations in some parts of the country. But azmaris may be encountered in a number of places from outdoor parks, to weddings, to peoples' homes, to clubs, to concerts, to the traditional azmari bet (azmari house). For an authentic experience, without the distraction of other instruments, try the latter.
One of the most famous azmari bets is Fendika in Kazanchies, Addis Abeba, owned by famous dancer Melaku Belay. Here, one can experience the azmari and his merrymaking in the traditional style.
Traditional drinks such as tej (honey wine or mead) will go around the room for those who enjoy such things. Even if one does not consume any alcohol, they may just find themselves loosened up enough by the azmari's relentless tune to get up and do a little iskista, the traditional Ethiopian shoulder shaking jig.
A big part of the azmari bet, iskista, according to legend, is said to have originated when a girl fetching water encountered a snake on the way back home. She mimicked the rattlesnake's shaking movements and the snake, either charmed or intimidated, left her. Even the name iskista sounds like the tail of the rattlesnake when shaken.
Whoever does not dance (especially after being summoned to) is sure to be teased about it by the azmari, but teasing in general will happen no matter what you do.
The lyrics of the azmari are those of blunt honesty, and, like a freestyle rapper, are about the singer themselves or about whomever they have positioned themselves in front of. However, unlike freestyle rappers, the azmari experience is never hostile, as any teasing is all in good fun. In fact the tradition is for every azmari to give thanks to God for life, the opportunity, and the moment at the start of his play.
The confrontation is always lighthearted, though often very revealing. Things may be said about people's personal actions, feelings, and needs. The time period of one's life may be of note. Requests may be made in tune, but they do not have to be taken seriously. Either way, it is an unforgettable and personal experience.
Fendika features some of the most talented azmaris, whom the owner, Melaku, actually pays a modest salary on top of the tips spectators stuff into their clothes, in the traditional way, while they play.
Knowing that they will at least get their salary, Fendika's azmaris do not merely try to flatter the audience for tips, but sometimes sing about more serious things, including news or politics, often hidden using double meanings.
One may be surprised how much music can be milked from a single stringed instrument. Yet one finds the music to be anything but monotonous. More screechy than a fiddle, it is just as lively as one.
Often, another man or woman will accompany the musician with their voice, calling out the aforementioned types of lyrics. They may pull the listener to their feet, if they have not started dancing already or if their friends and companions have not beaten them to that bit of forceful encouragement.
At Fendika, guests may be lucky enough to experience the genius of Melaku's dances. He worked his way up from being a street kid who could dance, to dancing for nine years at Fendika earning only tips, to owning it as well as dancing and working with many musicians from countries all around the world. Addis Abeba University has filmed a documentary on him, which it is currently editing for production, he says.
If one is really rambunctious, they may try freestyling a response to the verbal onslaught of the azmari or the dancer. (But it might help to know at least a little Amharic.) Any foreigners should be aware that, as usual, being one attracts attention, whether good or bad. But there is nothing to fear.
Melaku has researched the current trends of the azmari in the countryside, and he is concerned. Youngsters are not being encouraged by their older family members to spend time practicing the masenko because there is little income seen to be coming from it anymore.
This is dangerous for what is a big and ancient part of Ethiopian culture, because mastering the masenko is traditionally a family affair, passed from one generation to another.
Melaku plans to build a cultural centre and is seeking support from organizations that support the development of culture. He also created Ethiocolour several months ago, a band that features masenkos and other traditional Ethiopian instruments in a fusion of Ethiopian and Western jazz. Their performances can be enjoyed every other Friday night, such as this Friday, at Fendika. But coming much later than 9pm might mean sitting on the floor, as this has already become one of Addis Abeba's favourite nights out.
Melaku notes that clubs playing only recorded music often charge a 50 Br entrance fee, but Fendika relies only on the tips and refreshments of its satisfied customers.
Other Headlinens
: Pastoralism Against the Odds
: Proper Treatment of Migrants Urged After Reported Deaths in Saudi Arabia
: Refugees Embrace Life 'Out of Camps'
: Ethiopian Troops Launch Incursion Against Militants
: Polaris, MFI Team Up to Modernise Ethiopian Finance
: Firms Amend Bids On Habesha Cement Plant
: Hawassa Continues Rapid Expansion With New Budget
: Adama Plans to Implement New Water Meters
: Women's Network to Collect 39m Br for New Building
: Copyright Case Lands Inventor in Prison
: EIC's 1.5b Br in Claims May Force Changes
: Lion Bank Elects Fresh Board
: Sululta Earmarks 84,609sqm for Reclaim
: Duking It out with Dancing, Doggerels at Duka Azmari Bet
: Second Year Profits Surprise Oromia Int'l Bank
: Court Grants Askallukan Plaintiffs 10.6m Br
: Court - Natenael PLC to Stitch Up Default Due Hawassa Textile
: Airport Customs Branch Asks for More From Importers
: Education Ministry Bans Distance Learning
: U.S. Citizen Gets 14 Months for Attempted Smuggling
