Read Online The Dutch Wife by Eric P. McCormack - Free Book Online
Authors: Eric P. McCormack
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African trip. “You’ve no idea how hard that is,” he said. “I mean, to take incredibly interesting things and put them into language dull enough for an academic journal!”
She knew she was supposed to laugh at that and she did.
“What exactly are you writing about?” she said.
“Fetishism,” he said.
She confessed she didn’t know what that was.
“Most people don’t,” he said. “A fetish is some object—usually inanimate, but not aways—that a spirit lives in.” He smiled. “In other words, it’s the kind of thing your father would consider to be absolute nonsense.”
They both laughed.
“Please tell me about the article you’re writing,” she said.
“Only if we have another coffee,” he said. She had a feeling he was enjoying her company and the idea thrilled her.
When the coffee had been poured, he began to talk, and she listened carefully. She wanted to be intelligent for him.
– 10 –
“NEAR THE END OF MY LAST MONTH in Africa,” said Rowland Vanderlinden, “I went to Ndara, the main village of the Boma tribe. You won’t know about them, but one of the Boma customs had been reported widely amongst anthropologists: if a young Boma woman was infertile, her husband was expected to start sleeping with her mother. Then, if the mother produced a child, it was given to the daughter to rear as though it were her own. As a result, family relations amongst the Boma could be immensely complex.
“But I was more interested in another aspect of Boma life: I’d heard the tribe’s fetishistic practices were most unusual, so I thought I’d see for myself.
“I’d never been to Ndara and didn’t realize the trip would be so difficult. I had to go by the Ogowe River, for the jungle was thick and there was no possibility of going overland. I travelled in a dug-out canoe with three coastal tribesmen. Two of them rowed. The third was an old man who’d been to Ndara before. His name was Efua.
“Not that going by river was all that safe either. The tribes along the Ogowe weren’t friendly and were liable to attack strangers. Also, it was the rainy season, so the river was swollen and dangerous with rapids and whirlpools.
“Anthropologists discover things in the oddest ways. We’d only been on the river a few hours when I learned one lesson I’ll never forget.
“I was sitting at the stern of the boat and by noon I was starting to get hungry. Efua was dozing in the bow and the paddlers didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping for lunch. So I reached into the food sack and took out a banana. I peeled it and was just about to take a bite when one of the paddlers swung his oar and knocked the banana out of my hand. The dug-out almost toppled over. Efua wakened up and was horrified at me.
“I’d no idea what I’d done wrong. Efua and the paddlers talked for a while, and when they’d finished, he looked at me and shook his head in disgust. He said I was so ignorant I was a menace. He’d just convinced the two paddlers not to maroon me ashore and let me take my chances with the jungle and the hostile tribes.
“I kept asking what I’d done. He said if it hadn’t been for the quick action of the paddler I’d have taken a bite out of that banana. Didn’t people with skins the colour of dung-snails (that was what they called white people) have any sense at all? Didn’t I know that eating any kind of food while in a boat on water was absolutely taboo? Even the youngest children knew how stupid that was.
“Of course, I asked him why there was such a taboo. He told me to shut up with my ‘why’s. The reason for taboos was not a subject for discussion. Taboos were taboos and that was that. Even to wonder about them was another taboo.
“Anyway, shortly after that we went ashore and ate. Then we went back on the river and paddled for several more miles up a tributary. In the late afternoon we reached Ndara.
“It really was big—a village of about five thousand people. We had
She knew she was supposed to laugh at that and she did.
“What exactly are you writing about?” she said.
“Fetishism,” he said.
She confessed she didn’t know what that was.
“Most people don’t,” he said. “A fetish is some object—usually inanimate, but not aways—that a spirit lives in.” He smiled. “In other words, it’s the kind of thing your father would consider to be absolute nonsense.”
They both laughed.
“Please tell me about the article you’re writing,” she said.
“Only if we have another coffee,” he said. She had a feeling he was enjoying her company and the idea thrilled her.
When the coffee had been poured, he began to talk, and she listened carefully. She wanted to be intelligent for him.
– 10 –
“NEAR THE END OF MY LAST MONTH in Africa,” said Rowland Vanderlinden, “I went to Ndara, the main village of the Boma tribe. You won’t know about them, but one of the Boma customs had been reported widely amongst anthropologists: if a young Boma woman was infertile, her husband was expected to start sleeping with her mother. Then, if the mother produced a child, it was given to the daughter to rear as though it were her own. As a result, family relations amongst the Boma could be immensely complex.
“But I was more interested in another aspect of Boma life: I’d heard the tribe’s fetishistic practices were most unusual, so I thought I’d see for myself.
“I’d never been to Ndara and didn’t realize the trip would be so difficult. I had to go by the Ogowe River, for the jungle was thick and there was no possibility of going overland. I travelled in a dug-out canoe with three coastal tribesmen. Two of them rowed. The third was an old man who’d been to Ndara before. His name was Efua.
“Not that going by river was all that safe either. The tribes along the Ogowe weren’t friendly and were liable to attack strangers. Also, it was the rainy season, so the river was swollen and dangerous with rapids and whirlpools.
“Anthropologists discover things in the oddest ways. We’d only been on the river a few hours when I learned one lesson I’ll never forget.
“I was sitting at the stern of the boat and by noon I was starting to get hungry. Efua was dozing in the bow and the paddlers didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping for lunch. So I reached into the food sack and took out a banana. I peeled it and was just about to take a bite when one of the paddlers swung his oar and knocked the banana out of my hand. The dug-out almost toppled over. Efua wakened up and was horrified at me.
“I’d no idea what I’d done wrong. Efua and the paddlers talked for a while, and when they’d finished, he looked at me and shook his head in disgust. He said I was so ignorant I was a menace. He’d just convinced the two paddlers not to maroon me ashore and let me take my chances with the jungle and the hostile tribes.
“I kept asking what I’d done. He said if it hadn’t been for the quick action of the paddler I’d have taken a bite out of that banana. Didn’t people with skins the colour of dung-snails (that was what they called white people) have any sense at all? Didn’t I know that eating any kind of food while in a boat on water was absolutely taboo? Even the youngest children knew how stupid that was.
“Of course, I asked him why there was such a taboo. He told me to shut up with my ‘why’s. The reason for taboos was not a subject for discussion. Taboos were taboos and that was that. Even to wonder about them was another taboo.
“Anyway, shortly after that we went ashore and ate. Then we went back on the river and paddled for several more miles up a tributary. In the late afternoon we reached Ndara.
“It really was big—a village of about five thousand people. We had
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