Read Online Reunion in Barsaloi by Corinne Hofmann - Free Book Online Page A

Lketinga is already sitting by the fire turning a few pieces of meat on a grill. It has already been decided which pieces will be served to the older men, which to the women, and which may be given to the uncircumcised boys and girls. I remember Mama cooking the offal, feet and head in the manyatta . I sit down next to Lketinga by the fire and watch the fat dripping from the roasting meat. It’s hard to believe that just an hour ago this was a live animal standing in front of us.
    We try to start a conversation but it’s not easy to find the right things to talk about. When I go to talk about the book he says: ‘Later. Not now.’ When I try to tell him some of the things that happened after I left, he says: ‘I don’t want to talk about our time in Mombasa, or else I’ll go crazy again. I have changed my lifestyle. I don’t drink anymore. I’m content. I have three wives and I’m happy.’ Well, up to a point – I don’t think he’s still entitled to count me among his wives but this isn’t the moment to go into that. So I tell him about Napirai, our daughter, what she’s doing in school, which subjects she likes and which she doesn’t, that she might like to get a job instead of staying on at school. That’s something he understands straight away of course: ‘Yes, she is clever like me.’
    They’re cooking meat in the manyattas too now and everywhere there’s the smell of smoke. Gradually I realize I’m really hungry and look forward to biting into a big chunk of meat, even if it is likely to be tough. At last everything’s ready. We sit down around the table in James’s house and a big metal pot filled with chunks of meat is placed in the middle. Everybody tucks in, some chewing on ribs, other sinking their teeth into hunks of leg meet. To me it’s all wonderful, but Albert and Klaus only eat the minimum required by politeness.
    After our orgy of goat meat we slowly make our way to our beds, tired and exhausted by the journey and all the events of the day. Lketinga walks up to the Mission with us and we agree to meet up here in the morning for tea.
    Albert, Klaus and I sit down on our camp stools outside for a few moments to talk over everything we’ve seen and done. The drivers remindus we have a full fridge in the car and it doesn’t take much for us to decide on a gin and tonic to round off the day. We’re only a few minutes’ walk from the village but already it seems like a different world again. I’m sitting comfortably on a camping stool with a cold drink in my hand speaking German with two white people. Suddenly the whole thing seems surreal. I’ve never looked at Barsaloi from this perspective before.
    Klaus drags me from my reverie by recounting his meeting with Lketinga before we arrived in the village. As soon as he climbed out of the car he spotted Lketinga under the thorn tree. James was standing next to him talking to him, but then disappeared into his house. Klaus felt a bit out of his depth and didn’t quite know what to do. Then he plucked up courage, shouldered his camera and went up to Lketinga. As he tried to introduce himself, Lketinga looked at him blankly for a second then turned away and continued staring down the road towards the river. Klaus felt like he was being completely ignored. After what seemed like an eternity he heard Lketinga say in reproachful tones: ‘You are late!’ Relieved finally to get a few words out of him, he started trying to explain why we had taken so long, but was immediately, rudely interrupted: ‘I know everything,’ said with an extremely disparaging expression. This got him really worried thinking, oh God, what’s going to happen when Corinne gets here? How are we going to get along here for several days if he acts like this all the time? The minutes drag by, and then eventually he hears Lketinga say: ‘Do you have a cigarette?’
    ‘You’ve no idea how glad I was to hear him say that. Under the circumstances I was just really