From "Cat hat and rope" | Public Republic
The stories are like dolls: you open them, each will find the following story. I wrote this when I was in Congo with "Doctors Without Borders". Why he was there in itself is a separate story, but during his stay in Brazzaville met a bunch of small boys who had invented ingenious (and dangerous) way to make a living.
They gathered near the river under the porch of one of the few remaining restaurants in the city and against any coin or a handful of leftovers entertain visitors by jumping into the rapids of the most dangerous place and drifted downstream. These children - all of no more than ten years - risked their lives ten times a day, often only to chicken bone or a piece of bread. Moreover, it seemed to them a pleasure.
Well, the river always present. So mom says Jeanne and you throw him a look that watching old people when they talk about something you do not understand, such as how the plane stays in the air or why the good Lord gave tsetse fly wings. This is her answer to everything - complaints, fancy fruit salad questions, tears. Well, the river always has it, she said. Congo River is always here. I Do not know - life watching her. I know ќ sentiment: fancy fruit salad it is as furious dog, sometimes he plays, but it too much with the game descends to bite the neck. I know places for fishing and where is best to swim, where the rapids and shoals, islands fancy fruit salad and sandy hair and where years ago killed last hippopotamus.
When you hear what they say, you might think that everyone in Brazzaville were around that day - if so, that old hippopotamus would have it in the Bible along with the miracle of cakes and fish. However, mom says Jeanne, fishermen and hunters are born liars. Maybe the river to make them lie.
True, there is a gathering of stories. They, like water hyacinth float from the north down the river en route and multiply and flourish. As the story of three wizards or boy eagle or fish devil, so much he can break the backbone of the hippo and crocodile devour all at once. This much is true, I have proof - tooth fish devil traded (for a cigarette and half gum) from a guy who came up with one of the boats.
It is longer than my finger and hang on my neck on a piece of wire. Maman Jeanne fancy fruit salad says that you should fancy fruit salad not wear it in the teeth of the fish devil is evil magic, and even not at all right ten-year girl hanging near the river boats.
If I was a mother, Maman says Jeanne, would teach me to cook, to sew and to braid hair in small braids and tight to catch their man. This is a good catch for you, girl, not some disgusting old devil fish, which even manage to pull back on the shore, fancy fruit salad you can not eat. But I can take care of themselves and do not need to do what mom says Jeanne. Besides, as she says, people may come and go, but the river is always here.
Here are four barzatsi, racing in the rapids. Monkey, Somalia, Hollywood Boy and me. Of course, these are not our real names. But it is something fancy fruit salad secret, full of strength. They call me Ngoc - crocodile, 'cause I'm good at swimming. And swimming, it is known is our work.
Just the ends of our land is a place called "Le Rapid." It was great, fancy fruit salad all white, with a balcony that overlooks the water. Before the war, many people come here, but I never filled more than a quarter: businessmen with wide shoulders gray suits or beautiful ladies with dyed hair and frilly dresses, soldiers, officials, and even some other Mendele - white men came safely at work - here a long time did not measure tourists.
They come to eat, of course - three dishes fancy fruit salad drank drank and fried bananas, baked pumpkin fancy fruit salad with black rice and peanut sauce crocodile with fufu and beans. Turn my world even just thinking about that food, and there are tomatoes, soaked in oil, and river fish stew, and jackets, coats, and freshly baked crusty white bread, fried chicken and well, and cassava and peas .
They come to eat - of course, that they come - but also because of the river because of rapids. Here is seen across the street away, miles away, all the way to Kinshasa, where the other side fires burning and the river is a wild beast, rolling and hopping from stone to stone, and spews large fountains of spray. Not as wild as off the island of hippos and giant yellow-gray vortex fancy fruit salad of bubbling water beyond it, but sufficiently compelling and sound like ...
By passing elephants, mom says Jeanne. Big brown elephant legs like trunks of palm trees. I, of course, fancy fruit salad I've never seen an elephant, but the city zoo has a skull the size of freight charges, all in chalk and beeswax, and his toothless mouth sticks out a cracked fancy fruit salad tusk.
As helicopters, says Soma when ever decided to say something. As bombs and missiles, and muffled clatter of rifles. Or noise says Hollywood Boy
The stories are like dolls: you open them, each will find the following story. I wrote this when I was in Congo with "Doctors Without Borders". Why he was there in itself is a separate story, but during his stay in Brazzaville met a bunch of small boys who had invented ingenious (and dangerous) way to make a living.
They gathered near the river under the porch of one of the few remaining restaurants in the city and against any coin or a handful of leftovers entertain visitors by jumping into the rapids of the most dangerous place and drifted downstream. These children - all of no more than ten years - risked their lives ten times a day, often only to chicken bone or a piece of bread. Moreover, it seemed to them a pleasure.
Well, the river always present. So mom says Jeanne and you throw him a look that watching old people when they talk about something you do not understand, such as how the plane stays in the air or why the good Lord gave tsetse fly wings. This is her answer to everything - complaints, fancy fruit salad questions, tears. Well, the river always has it, she said. Congo River is always here. I Do not know - life watching her. I know ќ sentiment: fancy fruit salad it is as furious dog, sometimes he plays, but it too much with the game descends to bite the neck. I know places for fishing and where is best to swim, where the rapids and shoals, islands fancy fruit salad and sandy hair and where years ago killed last hippopotamus.
When you hear what they say, you might think that everyone in Brazzaville were around that day - if so, that old hippopotamus would have it in the Bible along with the miracle of cakes and fish. However, mom says Jeanne, fishermen and hunters are born liars. Maybe the river to make them lie.
True, there is a gathering of stories. They, like water hyacinth float from the north down the river en route and multiply and flourish. As the story of three wizards or boy eagle or fish devil, so much he can break the backbone of the hippo and crocodile devour all at once. This much is true, I have proof - tooth fish devil traded (for a cigarette and half gum) from a guy who came up with one of the boats.
It is longer than my finger and hang on my neck on a piece of wire. Maman Jeanne fancy fruit salad says that you should fancy fruit salad not wear it in the teeth of the fish devil is evil magic, and even not at all right ten-year girl hanging near the river boats.
If I was a mother, Maman says Jeanne, would teach me to cook, to sew and to braid hair in small braids and tight to catch their man. This is a good catch for you, girl, not some disgusting old devil fish, which even manage to pull back on the shore, fancy fruit salad you can not eat. But I can take care of themselves and do not need to do what mom says Jeanne. Besides, as she says, people may come and go, but the river is always here.
Here are four barzatsi, racing in the rapids. Monkey, Somalia, Hollywood Boy and me. Of course, these are not our real names. But it is something fancy fruit salad secret, full of strength. They call me Ngoc - crocodile, 'cause I'm good at swimming. And swimming, it is known is our work.
Just the ends of our land is a place called "Le Rapid." It was great, fancy fruit salad all white, with a balcony that overlooks the water. Before the war, many people come here, but I never filled more than a quarter: businessmen with wide shoulders gray suits or beautiful ladies with dyed hair and frilly dresses, soldiers, officials, and even some other Mendele - white men came safely at work - here a long time did not measure tourists.
They come to eat, of course - three dishes fancy fruit salad drank drank and fried bananas, baked pumpkin fancy fruit salad with black rice and peanut sauce crocodile with fufu and beans. Turn my world even just thinking about that food, and there are tomatoes, soaked in oil, and river fish stew, and jackets, coats, and freshly baked crusty white bread, fried chicken and well, and cassava and peas .
They come to eat - of course, that they come - but also because of the river because of rapids. Here is seen across the street away, miles away, all the way to Kinshasa, where the other side fires burning and the river is a wild beast, rolling and hopping from stone to stone, and spews large fountains of spray. Not as wild as off the island of hippos and giant yellow-gray vortex fancy fruit salad of bubbling water beyond it, but sufficiently compelling and sound like ...
By passing elephants, mom says Jeanne. Big brown elephant legs like trunks of palm trees. I, of course, fancy fruit salad I've never seen an elephant, but the city zoo has a skull the size of freight charges, all in chalk and beeswax, and his toothless mouth sticks out a cracked fancy fruit salad tusk.
As helicopters, says Soma when ever decided to say something. As bombs and missiles, and muffled clatter of rifles. Or noise says Hollywood Boy
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