The Hilton

I had been at the Hilton Hotel a couple of times in my teens, very briefly both times. It was grand, beautiful, intimidating. These feelings came flooding back when I walked in this afternoon with a couple of friends. A blue-uniformed guard saluted as Genet drove past in her Toyota. We walked past a restaurant, gift shops, the Ethiopians Airlines travel agency. A dozen steps lead to the pool area, a main one, with wadding pools on the sides. The whole area was bounded by beautiful vegetation, bougenvillas and roses that gave the place of a feeling of a tropical paradise. We sat at the poolside bar with CNN International on the TV above. Genet ordered three cafe lattes and a pack of Winston's The bill was $22 birr (about 3 dollars) and change. I sat there trying to compose a recommendation letter for a friend back in New York applying to the Columbia Journalism School. "It's not coming, eh?" said the man sitting to my left. "This is not like writing a letter. It's harder," I said. He was a fellow Ethiopian from America.