This is a story about a young man named Monte. Like many other young men, many things, some of them sad, happened that made him wonder. Unlike most others, Monte set out for Africa, in part, to sort them out. As you might expect, many things befell him, in the daytime and the night, and in those complicated shadows in between where, for the most part, we live.

He ate ugali and sukuma wikki at Gilbert’s in a driving rain storm.

He went to the town of Machakos to find some children there, and on the way he met a man who lived here

named Ishmail

who kept his motto very close to hand.

He found the children there

and they found him.

Moses, Joshua, Michael, Rachel, Matthew, Stephen, Samuel and a whole host of biblical names became flesh for him. If he found another home it was here, at Mary’s, surrounded by the recently recovered, crawled over, mauled and reshaped by the heart bandits.

Monte returned here again and again to find everything.

And because it was Africa, he went to the Mara to find the animals.

who invited him to lunch,

but he was too busy pestering the nice Malasian girl who had found her way there also, but after her long journey was too tired to bother with the animals.

He went to the village of Kimongo 2 to visit Peter and Kristine,

and he gathered children all along the way

until finally there was no more room at all in the truck.

He bought chapati and tea to add to lunch.

and found himself there in questionable company.

The children all waited right where they were the two hours he visited and ate lunch.

Then he brought them sweets

and they all threw up their arms in celebration.

He went to Mathare

even though so many had just died there

and found these new friends in a small center there.

And then he went to a place where girls who had seen far too much now earned their living making sweaters.

He came to know Joyce and Agnes and Josephine and Duko and Annie

and warmed himself by their fire.

Joyce gave him this basket she made for him and he brought her three kilos of fresh goat meat the day he left.

He found an old an true love,

and bore witness to the changed world from the Oakwood balcony one Nairobi evening.

He made many friends on his journey.

Some shorter than he

some taller

some about his size

some faster

some slower

some prettier,

some prettier and wiser.

And then it happened that his time was gone and he had to leave Africa. So he said good bye to all his friends, old and new, packed his small bag, shouldered it, and took it all with him.

The End…

For now…

Posted on June 27th, 2007 by david
Filed under: David's Journal