An English In Kentucky



















April 20th 2009

    Okanya disappeared for a while.  When he returned he was in pain.  I asked him what had happened, but he became reticent and distant.

    I was young, certainly.  Like all of us at that age my imagination teeming with half finished things.  And now that time is so far away those half finished things are most likely still half finished.  But there was a difference between us, and Okanya's disappearance heralded that difference.

    The share of blame for difference belongs to the "us" part of you and I.  Like swarms, together we gravitate around shininess and the powerful or the most desperate win.  I sometimes think the rest of us just follow. 


    I remember we saw a dust devil and Okanya pointed at it so that it would not chase us.  Then we watched a column of army ants, like a long hissing snake.  We both knew army ants eat those babies left to sleep alone.

    We found a bicycle chain that had lost that vital sprocket which renders it useless except as a weapon.  Made a train out of soap to travel along it.  Built roads in the mud to give the train company.   

    It was in little things that a harmony returned.  But Okanya had become wiser quickly.  Which, if there is a reason for it, is why the Ateso wait so long to circumcise their young men.          

Previous  Next

 (robots)  (robots)  (robots)