My Contracting Universe

Central Tanzania, 1972

Fifty men asleep. Gentle touch, Awake. Hushed voices, Quiet rustle of rush and blanket. Not all must leave so early. Accommodation Barracks. Not co-ed. We slept apart. Fellow travellers concerned, Adopted both of us, Kept careful watch. The night before— Clothes, sleeping pad and bag, High-Tec pack, Canteen. Fascinated those on rush mats. We shared laughter. Ablutions. Communal tap, Mud, Rough-hewn boards. Anticipation. Lemon flower–scented air. Ticket line, Polite, fair. Roar of diesel, Tension builds. Hospitality has limits. Free for all— Only standing room for us. Too tall to see through windows, No room to bend to look. The bus, a tiny universe. Hunger builds. Bus stops— From open window: Boiled egg, pinch of salt, piece of bread. Five cents. Windows open, Dust pricks nose. Windows closed, Heat intense. Beside my foot, Another. Splay-toed, callous-crusted. Miniature geysers of dust Erupt between toes. Heat grows intense. Sour breast milk, Baby’s urine, Bodies’ odour— Pungent. Bathroom break. Men to left, women right. No one peeks. Relief. Vision blurs, Reality fades. Pothole jars— Focus sharp, Surreal. Six hours on, Bus stops for lunch. Charcoal pit. Roast chicken, Cassava, Warm Coke. Twenty-five cents. Relief. Pain begins. Feet, Legs, Back. Analgesic useless. Eight hours in, Pain dominates. Muscles cramp, No room to stretch. Brief agony. Bathroom break. Relief! Nine hours in, Air has cooled. Pain remains. Two hours more. My pain, My universe. I lie awake. Reflection. I suffered not alone. I thought of cattle cars. Chagrin.