Inside the walls, trouble did eventually come. Not from over the fences or walls, but from deep within.
I was sitting in meditation in the quite hours of the night when our host, the Dogtor called to summon me immediately outside. I put on my boots in readiness to partner up with the big Dogtor Jack in chasing off would be intruders from our property.
There were black shadows to chase that night, but to where I don’t know.
Indeed there was a battle. But the Dogtor and I were the only men in the yard.
The argument was of the same stuff that previous ones over the last two months had been. In his interactions with humans, as with the dogs, the Dogtor strictly adheres to pack mentality attitudes, using only submissive or dominant acts.
And me making preparations to traverse up through deep dark Africa with Ashley and our little tribe of animals is not part of following the Dogtor’s daily routines. Therefore any progress the Micmobs make in gaining their independence is met with fierce challenge.
“South Africa is dangerous”- sure, like eating a lollypop is too. “Life is cheap here”, -your bill be will added up upon completion of your meal.
Although in just two months I have suffered various abuse.
I was robbed by a white English taxi driver. After driving me to town he then told me that this trip was going to cost three times the usual price.
I was refused dental work by another Englishman on the premise that i would bring lawyers from the states to sue him if anything went wrong in the surgery because i was a foreigner.
I am constantly warned by the Dogtor and other dwellers of the cages up on top of the green hills that black people are dangerous and will hurt me. In my ventures into the open, so far, I have only experienced warm welcoming treatment from the natives.
I wonder-what the Dogtor and were quarreling over other than ephemeral feelings, crazy! We are all nuts, and I reckon Mr. Dogtor is no more nuts than any other and he does understand dogs and we have learnt allot living on his property.
Once I walked the dark streets of Kalgoorlie on a balmy evening. There a black man called for me to stop, so i did. Certain that he would request something from me but surprised when he gave me some money for a smoke. I walked on down toward home care free and ahead of where I was when I left.
Since then I will stop-for anyone if they ask.
But now things are a little different. I have a lady with me. If it was safety and security that she wanted, I would not have brought her here. It is one of Ashley’s childhood dreams to see an elephant flinging a cloud of dust up over his back. A pride of lions gorging on their kill in the shade of the trees. ‘under African skies’ is one of her favorite lines. And it so happens that is now a line we take, over rolling grass hills, under cascading waterfalls, between oceans and deserts i find my way home again.
If we do anything other than our best to follow our dreams, we have already been robbed.
The fear left me as a deep guttural burst of laughter burped out of my belly to brush across the green jungle top when i realized that know one could rob me because i actually have nothing that is mine.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
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