Freedom in a Can: Adventures with Hamlet

The matriarch charges forward claiming the land on which she will make her stand.  She stares directly into the windshield of the small, white van like a prize fighter.  Ears flared, trunk reaching forward in warning, eyes angry, massive bulk ready to charge…this elephant means business.  Needing no interpreter, she clearly communicates, “Back, the FUCK, off!” Our van is behind the nearest, offending vehicle, but I’m wishing I could ease our Toyota Hi-Ace into reverse and give this pissed off pachyderm some more space.  Shari fires the shutter release of her Canon at 5 frames per second, hoping upon hope that any might be in focus.  Ahead of us, the driver keeps his cool and we all hold our breath waiting to see if Big Mama will back down.  A few tense moments go by until she’s satisfied that the van isn’t coming any closer; they’ve gotten the message.  She lowers her long snout and with one satisfyingly low rumble, an elephantish “harrumph,” saunters off into the bushes to munch

By way of greeting, “how are you!” is less of a question and more of a statement on the English language taught in primary school here in the village.  This is the one phrase that everyone knows, and the children scream it at us whenever they can.  “Mzungu! Mzungu! How-ar-yoo!”  Returning their waves and smiles with a, “I’m fine, how are you?” is an endlessly entertaining enterprise repaying our small output with a gaggle of giggling children scurrying away, returning only seconds later to reenact the scene. This morning we wake earlier than usual to help the TRAKLAP team bring in the corn from one of their fields.  It’s been since high school church group that I’ve harvested corn by hand.  I recall tedium and chaffing in equal measure soon after the initial curiosity of learning how to use the cornhusker tool wore out.  Once mastered, I settled into a hectare length row and tried to think of something, anything, other than what I was doing.  This morning, I find the work enjoya