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

pleased to be able to do something he’d appreciate. He took the cigarette and said ‘Let’s go in the shadow.’ So there we stood, the pair of us, in the shade of the thorn tree. I can tell you I’ve never been so glad to see anyone arrive as I was when you two turned up!’ says Klaus, leaving us in stitches of laughter. Actually I really could feel sorry for Klaus, being able to picture so well his description of my ex-husband ’s behaviour and the sort of dirty look he can give.
    But that apart, we’re all agreed that the way people welcomed us, including Lketinga, has been far better than we had even hoped. I drain my drink happily as the two men climb on top of their vehicles and into their tents. I crawl into my own little igloo tent and get myself comfortable in my sleeping bag. The drivers are still sitting outside, chatting quietly to one another. From the village comes the occasionalbleating of the goats and once a dog barks briefly. I can just make out human voices like a low distant murmuring. I would give anything to know what Lketinga and Mama and all the others are thinking about us and our first day together again. As far as I’m concerned I couldn’t be more pleased at how it’s gone and I feel all warm inside. I just wonder if they feel the same.

In Mama’s Manyatta
    T he next morning I wake up early and crawl out of the tent, still fairly tired, to see the red ball of the sun slowly peeking up from behind the mountains. There’s not a sound to be heard in our little camp. I wash myself with moist freshen-up tissues and settle down to enjoy the sunrise. Before long my two companions are up too and we’re just having our breakfast cup of tea when Lketinga arrives. Unlike yesterday he’s wearing European-style clothes, long trousers, a T-shirt and slip-on shoes. He shakes hands with us all, asks us how we slept and then walks over to my tent. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to do, he unzips the front of my tent and takes a good look around to check out how things look after the night. Before, when I was his wife, such signs of jealousy really annoyed me, now I can hardly keep myself from laughing out loud in astonishment.
    After he’s seated himself down next to us we discuss what to do with the day. He tells us James has to go down to his school on the motorbike because there’s an inspection visit from Nairobi today. His older brother is still here but is intending to head home shortly before it gets too hot. I want to make sure he gets his presents before he leaves. Later in the morning we can go down to the river and then take a look around the village.
    Lketinga is happy with that plan so eventually we get up and stroll down to Mama’s manyatta where Papa Saguna is sitting outside in the shade. He says ‘hello’ and then announces in Maa that he wants to set off straight away so he can send Saguna to see us tomorrow. I run over to James’s house to where my bag with the presents is and fetch out a checked Samburu blanket and an orange fleece top. Papa Saguna seemsabsolutely and genuinely delighted at these simple gifts. He thanks me with the words: ‘ Ke subat, ke supati pi – wonderful, simply wonderful’. We’re bound to see him again before we leave as there’s going to be a party in our honour. We can make arrangements through his daughter Saguna. After saying our goodbyes he sets off out of the corral, his green hat on his head and his new blanket wrapped around his hips.
    Just like in the old days I use the traditional word, ‘ Godie? ’ to ask Mama’s permission to enter her manyatta . If she agrees, she replies, ‘ Karibu .’ Mama asks me in and for the first time in fourteen years I crouch down to enter a manyatta again. I tiptoe past the hearth to sit down on the cowhide behind it. I’m too worked up to pay attention to what I’m doing and suddenly I notice I’m