Read Online A Simple Distance by K. E. Silva - Free Book Online
Authors: K. E. Silva
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Social Science, Sagas, Family Life, Ethnic Studies, Cultural Heritage, African American Studies
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spouts, one at either end of the village. So they had running water close by. And when they started using those spouts every day, and the road became muddy from the spills, and the red mud caked on the old women’s feet as they carried their jugs back and forth to their homes, I paved that road so it would be easier for them to access the water.
That simple thing, a water spout, won me the constituency. It made them feel someone cared, made them feel they were as important as the people in Bato, or Port Commons. And that one village gave us our green light for the coup. You see, nothing is too small to be overlooked. In politics, the tiniest village can take on a significance far greater than its actual size.
Until that water spout—no, until I paved that road—I was getting rotten tomatoes thrown at me during my campaign speeches. Rotten tomatoes. This scar above my eyebrow, from a rock.
The pull of his breath took on a labored air but didn’t stop him. His breathing more and more audible.
Do you know that most Baobiquens have two telephones at home? Two telephones. One CarCom and one Cable and Wireless. The CarCom telephone plan is much cheaper. But there is a catch. The CarCom telephone is only compatible with other CarCom phones. Both parties must be on CarCom to communicate. If I call you on CarCom, you must receive my call on your CarCom phone. So, to use CarCom, you must know beforehand that the recipient has CarCom. Same telephone number as the Cable and Wireless phone. Same ring.
Most Baobiquens—not all, but most—have CarCom. We must always try CarCom first for local calls because it is a Baobiquen company, locally owned. While the Cable and Wireless devices can accommodate both local and long distance calls, Cable and Wireless is a British company and none of their revenue benefits us.
Sometimes, for a joke, we answer our telephones by saying: CarCom to CarCom . But I tell you, it is no joke. It is survival.
He had some trouble with the saliva collecting at the base of his lazy larynx. Yet Uncle George pushed on, cleared his throat with force. Focused.
You would be surprised at the extent to which your First World countries try to take advantage of our little island. They are most shameless. We must continually resist their exploitation.
Years ago, when you were a child, just about the same time your country celebrated their bicentennial anniversary of independence, Baobique celebrated its first. We were no longer a British commonwealth. But it is not easy for such a small island to be self-sufficient, so when the formation of the European Union took away our major source of income and the United Kingdom stopped subsidizing our banana exports, we could no longer remain hidden from the rest of the world. If we did not reach out and develop new contracts, we would not survive. Instead of telling your big corporations to take their business elsewhere, we welcomed them.
But we have done, I believe, a commendable job of resisting temptation and limiting foreign ownership on the island. We do not want to go the way of Antigua, its land stripped of all but its white sand beaches; an entire population watched bloodshot by fraternity boys through the bottoms of beer mugs on their spring holiday. What do you call it? Spring break.
Uncle George’s breathing grew as loud as his voice.
You would be surprised at how difficult it is to steer a different course for Baobique. It is a constant battle. Constant. With the wrong leadership, a few thoughtless decisions, it would not take long to lose all this, to turn our rain forests, our valleys, our mountains, into a First World playground, to be unwrapped, used up, and discarded by American tourists. And then what would we Baobiquens be left with? Answer me that.
And so we have fought to keep out companies who offer us U.S. dollars at the expense of long-term sustainability. When your Caribou Cruise Lines wanted to come into Bato seven days a week, monopolize our
That simple thing, a water spout, won me the constituency. It made them feel someone cared, made them feel they were as important as the people in Bato, or Port Commons. And that one village gave us our green light for the coup. You see, nothing is too small to be overlooked. In politics, the tiniest village can take on a significance far greater than its actual size.
Until that water spout—no, until I paved that road—I was getting rotten tomatoes thrown at me during my campaign speeches. Rotten tomatoes. This scar above my eyebrow, from a rock.
The pull of his breath took on a labored air but didn’t stop him. His breathing more and more audible.
Do you know that most Baobiquens have two telephones at home? Two telephones. One CarCom and one Cable and Wireless. The CarCom telephone plan is much cheaper. But there is a catch. The CarCom telephone is only compatible with other CarCom phones. Both parties must be on CarCom to communicate. If I call you on CarCom, you must receive my call on your CarCom phone. So, to use CarCom, you must know beforehand that the recipient has CarCom. Same telephone number as the Cable and Wireless phone. Same ring.
Most Baobiquens—not all, but most—have CarCom. We must always try CarCom first for local calls because it is a Baobiquen company, locally owned. While the Cable and Wireless devices can accommodate both local and long distance calls, Cable and Wireless is a British company and none of their revenue benefits us.
Sometimes, for a joke, we answer our telephones by saying: CarCom to CarCom . But I tell you, it is no joke. It is survival.
He had some trouble with the saliva collecting at the base of his lazy larynx. Yet Uncle George pushed on, cleared his throat with force. Focused.
You would be surprised at the extent to which your First World countries try to take advantage of our little island. They are most shameless. We must continually resist their exploitation.
Years ago, when you were a child, just about the same time your country celebrated their bicentennial anniversary of independence, Baobique celebrated its first. We were no longer a British commonwealth. But it is not easy for such a small island to be self-sufficient, so when the formation of the European Union took away our major source of income and the United Kingdom stopped subsidizing our banana exports, we could no longer remain hidden from the rest of the world. If we did not reach out and develop new contracts, we would not survive. Instead of telling your big corporations to take their business elsewhere, we welcomed them.
But we have done, I believe, a commendable job of resisting temptation and limiting foreign ownership on the island. We do not want to go the way of Antigua, its land stripped of all but its white sand beaches; an entire population watched bloodshot by fraternity boys through the bottoms of beer mugs on their spring holiday. What do you call it? Spring break.
Uncle George’s breathing grew as loud as his voice.
You would be surprised at how difficult it is to steer a different course for Baobique. It is a constant battle. Constant. With the wrong leadership, a few thoughtless decisions, it would not take long to lose all this, to turn our rain forests, our valleys, our mountains, into a First World playground, to be unwrapped, used up, and discarded by American tourists. And then what would we Baobiquens be left with? Answer me that.
And so we have fought to keep out companies who offer us U.S. dollars at the expense of long-term sustainability. When your Caribou Cruise Lines wanted to come into Bato seven days a week, monopolize our
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