•Tuesday, December 19, 2006
... continued
what lay before us, was a thin eucalyptus tree laid out as the bridge to the other side of the river. it was thick enough to hold the weight of a man, but you could tell from the way it was swinging to the evening wind, it was no safe bet. it was a guarantee to dash your head on the rocks and be drowned away through the rapids in the dead of the night. no serious man or woman would do their jig on that trunk. i pointed out this to my angelic guide. up to this time, she had not realised the seriousness of my theory. it never occurred to her that one could not use the bridge. everyone else used it!
"you know, jp, i used this bridge in the morning and i use it whenever i use this route home" she assuringly told me.
"it appears too risky for me, i think we should go back" i insisted.
she retorted,"are you in your right mind, can you imagine the distance you have to cover home if we were to go back. if everyone else uses it, you can to!" she added.
to prove the point, she went across the bridge and back, tenderly balancing her slender fish-trimmed weight on the swaggering trunk. talk of body aerodynamics!
i soon realized fast that i had no options. one, going all the way was out of question. swimming across was scaring, the torrents, tension and inexperience in such a huge river was a quick recipe for disaster. it could not be compared to the friendly and tiny muddy streams we used to splash our afternoons off. cowardice is not a village man ally especially after creating a huge rapport with the princessly daughter. i could hardly wait for sunday to do the juakali parade to my club.
by the time, i was thin-like and tall, the kind that are thin and tall such that when they walk they appear like they would fall head first and they have to hasten their legs to avoid the face-dash fall. maybe that would help in making it across the bridge. a group of kids, who had come to untether their cows and goats as was the evening routine, had now gotten interested in the conversation about the bridge and were eagerly awaiting the grand march by the king.
one uninvited lad proved his machoism by criss-crossing the bridge severally to show how easy it was to do it. in the face of calamity, a man got to do, what a man got to do. i crossed the bridge!
no, i did not cross the bridge, i started crossing the bridge. as was the rule, in such circumstances, just don't look down. focus ahead and don't worry about the water or whether the feet will step on the trunk or on the air immediately above the water. somehow at the time the feet 'developed' some eyes to ensure you stepped right. we believed about the possibility of feet having eyes from some hunting experiences.
as boys, most sunday afternoons in the village, we would go fishing and swimming in our river or making and driving makeshift wooden vehicles down the hills or fruit gathering from those farms that had too ripe fruits whose owners didn't seem to have good use of them. other times we would have a hunting expedition in a forest that was two kilometres away. every boy with his dog and panga, we would hunt gazelles. they were rare and when you get one, it would most of the time outrun us and the dogs. we believed they were fast because its legs had a nose for easier breathing and eyes to see the way it would follow to escape our traps and obstacles. most of the time we would end up with wild rabbits or guinea fowls which we would roast and eat in the forest. we would later appear to our mothers with clean noses and give no hints of our wild encounters.
i was progressing on well across the thin bridge until i got to the centre of the bridge. a thought crossed my mind that i had my shoes on and that could make the rest of the trip across the bridge difficult. some thin sweat raced my feet and i felt slippery. i looked down and...disaster! all of a sudden i felt the bridge swagger wildly to the left, then right, then left and i saw myself gulping for breath down the rapids. that was not a gamble i was willing to take take and in a split second, i was clinching the bridge with my hands, feet , head and everything i got.
... to be continued
what lay before us, was a thin eucalyptus tree laid out as the bridge to the other side of the river. it was thick enough to hold the weight of a man, but you could tell from the way it was swinging to the evening wind, it was no safe bet. it was a guarantee to dash your head on the rocks and be drowned away through the rapids in the dead of the night. no serious man or woman would do their jig on that trunk. i pointed out this to my angelic guide. up to this time, she had not realised the seriousness of my theory. it never occurred to her that one could not use the bridge. everyone else used it!
"you know, jp, i used this bridge in the morning and i use it whenever i use this route home" she assuringly told me.
"it appears too risky for me, i think we should go back" i insisted.
she retorted,"are you in your right mind, can you imagine the distance you have to cover home if we were to go back. if everyone else uses it, you can to!" she added.
to prove the point, she went across the bridge and back, tenderly balancing her slender fish-trimmed weight on the swaggering trunk. talk of body aerodynamics!
i soon realized fast that i had no options. one, going all the way was out of question. swimming across was scaring, the torrents, tension and inexperience in such a huge river was a quick recipe for disaster. it could not be compared to the friendly and tiny muddy streams we used to splash our afternoons off. cowardice is not a village man ally especially after creating a huge rapport with the princessly daughter. i could hardly wait for sunday to do the juakali parade to my club.
by the time, i was thin-like and tall, the kind that are thin and tall such that when they walk they appear like they would fall head first and they have to hasten their legs to avoid the face-dash fall. maybe that would help in making it across the bridge. a group of kids, who had come to untether their cows and goats as was the evening routine, had now gotten interested in the conversation about the bridge and were eagerly awaiting the grand march by the king.
one uninvited lad proved his machoism by criss-crossing the bridge severally to show how easy it was to do it. in the face of calamity, a man got to do, what a man got to do. i crossed the bridge!
no, i did not cross the bridge, i started crossing the bridge. as was the rule, in such circumstances, just don't look down. focus ahead and don't worry about the water or whether the feet will step on the trunk or on the air immediately above the water. somehow at the time the feet 'developed' some eyes to ensure you stepped right. we believed about the possibility of feet having eyes from some hunting experiences.
as boys, most sunday afternoons in the village, we would go fishing and swimming in our river or making and driving makeshift wooden vehicles down the hills or fruit gathering from those farms that had too ripe fruits whose owners didn't seem to have good use of them. other times we would have a hunting expedition in a forest that was two kilometres away. every boy with his dog and panga, we would hunt gazelles. they were rare and when you get one, it would most of the time outrun us and the dogs. we believed they were fast because its legs had a nose for easier breathing and eyes to see the way it would follow to escape our traps and obstacles. most of the time we would end up with wild rabbits or guinea fowls which we would roast and eat in the forest. we would later appear to our mothers with clean noses and give no hints of our wild encounters.
i was progressing on well across the thin bridge until i got to the centre of the bridge. a thought crossed my mind that i had my shoes on and that could make the rest of the trip across the bridge difficult. some thin sweat raced my feet and i felt slippery. i looked down and...disaster! all of a sudden i felt the bridge swagger wildly to the left, then right, then left and i saw myself gulping for breath down the rapids. that was not a gamble i was willing to take take and in a split second, i was clinching the bridge with my hands, feet , head and everything i got.
... to be continued
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