Category: Memoir
-
F. Scraps of Memoir from Afar (con’d)
Later in the afternoon on the terrace of the Manor Hotel, Mariam was on her third beer, while I was sipping ginger ale. Suddenly the sky darkened and whirlwinds of dust were blowing in the street. Amid the tropical downpour that followed we watched passersby running for cover. Then without warning a black bird flew…
-
D. Notes from Zimbabwe (intro.)
Introduction: It was in the midst of Tanzanian celebration of Zimbabwe’s independence in April 1980 that I was first attracted by the possibility of living in a free yet economically developed African country. The prospect came sooner than expected. In January 1982, I landed in (then) Salisbury, the capital city of Zimbabwe, with a 3-year…
-
D. Notes from Zimbabwe (con’d)
“We always catch the BOP Evening News.” Alexander hit the volume button in time for the drumbeats heralding the satellite feed from Bopupatswana, South Africa. The news led with images of a burning car. “BOP News always has the gory detail,” said Rosie, scratching her nyloned toes under her recliner. “They show the corpses of…
-
C. Vignettes from Nigeria and Tanzania
Introduction: In 1977-1978, sponsored by a Canadian NGO, I taught in a boys’ boarding high school in northern Nigeria. Looking at my grainy 110 photos of that era, I am struck by just what a wildly colourful place it was. Nigeria, at that time, was in the midst of an oil boom. That boom financed…
-
B. Glimpses of Missions (intro.)
Introduction: At a retreat which I attended in 1976 to learn about opportunities for overseas teaching placements, a social activist in Vancouver who was also a ‘returned volunteer cooperant’ who had taught in Nigeria, surprised me with his candour. In a private moment towards the end of the evening, after earnest discussion of ‘development issues’…
-
B. Glimpses of Missions (con’d)
Upon finishing his beer, Padre Pepe, still in his white cassock, grinning ecstatically among the tiny group of parishioners quaffing the ‘dadi’ [maize liquor] proffered in tin cans. For at least a half hour he laughed, clapped hands, danced and leapt crazily among his flock while the Maasai men and women glugged through 3 pails…
Coprolites in Amber (etc.) 