An African in Greenland PDF

An African in Greenland A One morning, when my brothers had left early for the coconut plantation, and there was no-one left at home to take me for a walk along the seashore, I went out alone and visited the Evangelical Bookshop. Inside there were two shelves against the walls on either side of the...

An African in Greenland A One morning, when my brothers had left early for the coconut plantation, and there was no-one left at home to take me for a walk along the seashore, I went out alone and visited the Evangelical Bookshop. Inside there were two shelves against the walls on either side of the counter. I went up to one of these, attracted by a book laid flat on a half-empty shelf, with a cover showing a picture of a hunter dressed in clothes made of animal skins and leaning on a spear*. I was struck at once by the title: The Eskimos* from Greenland to Alaska by Dr Robert Gessain. The book was illustrated with photographs and engravings*: I liked the look of it, bought it, then went on my way to the beach. By noon, I had finished my new book, the first I had read about the life of the little men of the north. Was it the author’s praise of their hospitality that triggered my longing for adventure, or was it fear of returning to the sacred forest? I hardly remember. But when I had finished reading, one word began to resonate inside me until it filled my whole being. That sound, that word was Greenland. In that land of ice, at least, there would be no snakes! B During the previous two weeks, ice had started to build up each day, but each time a blizzard shattered it.... That was my first sight of the sea freezing over, and I kept a keen watch on this furious battle of cold and waves and ice. It was the same fascination I had felt in my childhood when, hidden behind a tree, I’d watch a battle to the death between two snakes. Eventually the surface of the bay was nothing but a vast white stretch of pavement strewn with* numerous black or blue patches that made it look rather like marble. When I first walked out on the frozen sea, it gave me an unforgettable sensation, at once pleasant and frightening. While others strode out firmly, I planted my feet with care. I was scared but refused to show it. What if the ice, which was not supported by anything underneath, should suddenly break? House of Day, House of Night C ‘You don’t have to leave home to know the world’, said Marta suddenly, as we were shelling peas* in the steps in front of her house. I asked how. Maybe she meant by reading books, watching the news, listening to the radio, surfing the internet, or going to the shop for gossip. But what she had in mind was the futility of travel. When you’re travelling you have to take care of yourself in order to get by, you have to keep an eye on yourself and your place in the world. It means concentrating on yourself, thinking about yourself and looking after yourself. So when you’re travelling all you really encounter is yourself, as if that were the whole point of it. When you’re at home you simply are, you don’t have to struggle with anything or achieve anything. You don’t have to worry about railway connections and timetables, you don’t need to experience any thrills or disappointments. You can put yourself to one side – and that’s when you see the most. She said something like that and fell silent. It surprised me, because Marta has never been further than Wambierzyce, Nowa Ruda and Wałbrzych. Some of the peas were maggoty* so we threw them into the grass. Sometimes I suspect that whatever Marta has said is completely different from what I have heard. spear a long pointed stick used as a weapon Eskimos natives of Greenland today known as Inuits engravings types of printed pictures strewn with covered with shelling peas taking peas out of their natural covering maggoty full of insects