Month: March 2024 (page 1 of 1)

It was near midnight when we came back to the campsite. The steam spurted around the cook. The lean man said. “Just a second, the cook is preparing your supper. Sit down there, make your comfortable.” We sat down heavily on the ground by the land cruiser. In the dark the cook set a big kettle on a board instead of a table. The lean man brought a flashlight, shone its beam and fixed it somewhere. “A nice stew,” we three said. Then pasta and roast pork were served. I dug my spoon into the stew, and then I gulped down the roast pork. “Ah, I wish to drink beer,” Jun said with contentment ; Tsubaki handed him a bottle of water.

“We leave at three,” the lean man said. He dumped the sleeping mats on the rocky ground and laid out them one by one. I drag a mat, got away from the couple and put my backpack beside it. First I took off my hoodie, and then washed my arms and face with bottled water to keep me cool. Then I sat on the mat, brushed my teeth the way I peered into my reflection on the camera app in my phone, and I took off my sweaty jeans and lay down on my back on the mat for a while.

For the first time in my life, I sleep outside with only one mat, however, and I was surprised at how casual my feeling was. The wind was gone, the mat comfortable. Looking at the sky I heard the couple giggling softly to themselves, gradually fading away. It was the very night the gray clouds had hung in puffs. I had been fascinated by the meandering currents of my mind, and maybe I had grew patience, trying to know the world, in the end, I was glad I was here.

I heard stealthy steps from around the land cruiser. The movement stopped, and the car rasped on my sensibility. I took my phone—2:50AM. Ugh. That was dumb…I will have to get up. When I saw the lean man loading up the land cruiser, I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. The couple was whispering together, so I squinted my eyes nearly closed and studied them—they were standing with their backpacks on the mats that were stuck together. “Wake up!’’ The lean man clapped his hands cheerfully. No way… 

The lean man got into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition. I sat beside him and the couple and the cook in the back seat. The land cruiser lumbered away, into the broken rocks. We were silent while the land cruiser battered along, full of clashings. I did hold the the highest hand grip of the window side, listening to the pounding land cruiser—a variation of rhythm—and dropping off to sleep.

We jumped in the land cruiser at random, through the broken rocks. I half awakened, and slept again as though to faint with anaemia, and my head had been tried to stand upright as I was constantly on the verge of crashing into the driver’s shoulder. The night still drifted, and ahead were a jagged broken peak. The lean man built up his speed, afraid of nothing. Up the steep slope, jumping and falling and putting a earth quake in the rocks. “African massage,”the lean man said, looking straight ahead, proudly—we were silent and did not give a laugh.

We coasted down the long sweep to the floor of the salt lake. “Oh, it looks like Uyuni,” I said. The road ran parallel to the lake, the dawn was coming, but it was slow and gray. “Looks that way,” Tsubaki said. “Amazing.” “Sunrise is really nice, but it’s cloudy,” the lean man said to Tsubaki. “It’s the worst day,” she smiled tentatively, compelled to talk. “It’s a beautiful place.” “Enjoy it. Assale Lake.”

There was an expanse of gray land before me. I was staring emptily at the lake. Nothing but emptiness. All of my things far behind. “Take photos,” the lean man pulled to the side of road and parked. Holding my iPhone I scrambled down from the car with excitement.

I stood, silent and awestruck, before its vastness. I wanted to be alone in the wilderness. During the Danakil tour I had been a little tense around the Japanese couple. I ran on the salty crust, at low tide, the emptiness and cool air moving in around me. I was always running, always alone. The wind blew fiercely across the field as I stopped at the tide line. Some distance away, at the center of the lake, was the land cruiser, by which the lean man had been taking photos of the couple.

I ran further away, where nobody would see me, and I knew it was illogical to fill an emptiness. But I had known a long time that being completely alone is a feeling so obsessive it blur, nobody even able tell. I would have to do life alone.

The mounting gray clouds, gaining ground, settled low and blocking the sun. No other land cruisers were in sight as I walked along the tide line. Finally alone, I squatted on my hams and touched the salt crust, and no hint of life in it. Gradually, the tide was receding. From the lake side I inspected the unsystematic line, easing back. 

I wished I could be here a little longer, however, and I was always ruled by time. On the horizon the persons dotted around a car. Of course I knew Japanese is punctual. Then at last I sprinted to the car, and scrambled into the land cruiser and we moved on.

The surface of the lake was like polygonal patterns, and its color changed over time—gray, then sand, and rusty brown. I had been absorbed in looking out the window. “We’re going to walk to the small village for breakfast,” the lean man said. “Approximately thirty minutes.” The land cruiser pulled up at the brown lake, and then I jumped down and looked around.

There was the mysterious phenomenon, profound even. As if God made humans shit neatly over the decades in the way to make the form of polygon. There was a road that parted the brown land, so that you can walk on the surface of the dry ground. The couple did not appear interested and they walked into the road. I was taking a movie with amusement ; and broke into a gallop and followed them.

Then suddenly the ground all changed. I was surprised—why can we be in two places at once? The sign said “DALLOL, AFARI.” I was not sure where we were going to now, but there was nobody I wanted ask. I had been bound to watch their behavior based on the concept of Japanese harmony, ready to anticipate. Jun never spoke to me. Tsubaki changed her attitude, depending on the situation. Besides I needed to keep a certain distance gingerly from the couple. Naturally I was frustrated at my efforts adding up to nothing.

In the gray sky a sun appeared, a dim yellow circle that gave little light. The lean man led with springy steps. I had to move quickly against a strong pull toward this geological drama I would never see. I felt like we had landed on an asteroid while a local young man blasted African music from his phone ahead of me. The surface of the earth crusted, a hard crust, and erosion had exposed bedrock : breaks or joints.

We edged gradually on outcrop of rocks ; I knew myself we have got a way to go before realizing again I am no good at a group. I had all the while hiked absent-mindedly, lest my brain might misfire : “If I do X, they do Y, then Z…then…” As if it snowballed at perfection and I could be suddenly subjected to natural chaos. However, I was now so controlled that I had become disoriented. “K-san,” a voice said from further. Turning, I saw Tsubaki standing on the hill and looked down on my place. “Come!” 

The view was stunning; the colorful matrix built up—I paused—incredible. It was beyond my expectations. I had assumed the blogger edited its photos to make them look attractive. I ascended the rise to Tsubaki. “It’s so much more vivid than I thought!” I said. “Yeah,”she agreed. I had climbed up and down—absorbed in fantasy.  When I was close to a yellow salt concretion, this girl said with some authority : “You shouldn’t go over there, he warned us.” I suddenly felt like I was treated as a child who always got lost. Why this girl speaking to me like this? I began to feel resentful at having been underestimated. What has come over her? What is on your mind? A certain aura emanated from the emerald green spot.

It was five hours later that the land cruiser arrived. The sky was still overcast. “We can go, anyway,” I spoked to Jun to get along fine with him. And the lean man carried dozens of 1.5 liter bottles of water in his arms. It occurred to me we must be at Semera airport by 4p.m. tomorrow. I walked by instinct toward Tsubaki and said, “I do remind him to come back to Addis tomorrow.” “Yes, yes, of course,”she said.

Pride, I supposed—I was the oldest in three. Like I was going to be the dependable person. I edged gradually in the lean man. “We been waiting for you more than five hours. What’s that all about?” I asked. “I’d joined another tour,” he answered, moving along the car, and Tsubaki went to him. “I don’t know what you mean. Come back the money,” she said with the fierceness of a woman trying to control herself. “No, I was so busy earlier on, guiding a tour group,” he said, loading the various things into the land cruiser. “We must go back to the airport, Semera, tomorrow,” Tsubaki demanded. “By 4pm at least,” I added. “Can you change the flight?” he asked casually. “No, we must go back to Addis,” I said with emphasis. Jun wandered about the car. “Can we go that volcano?” I asked nervously. “Of course, of course,” he said humbly.

I sat beside the lean man, our tour driver. And the couple and the cook in the back seat. “I’m very sorry to bother you,’’said the lean man sincerely. “If there’s blame, it’s not my blame,” he went on. “I was in Semera when my boss called me.” He still did not turn on the ignition. “Perhaps he is not responsible,” Tsubaki whispered in Japanese. Turning to her, I nodded twice. “Are you okay? That’s too hard—we probably hardly sleep at the volcano,’’ my head turned to him. “No, problem,”he grinned. “You are strong,” I said. “Let’s go!” he started the engine.

“Would you like the AC? Or open the windows?”the driver asked. “AC!” I said without thinking about the couple, because the land cruiser became unbearably hot. After a few moments, I found myself in a comfortable position: cool air hit directly on my wet body.

The long concrete path across the county—completely devoid of traffic other than us—over the yellow lands and the gray lands, and across the desert into empty landscape. Sometimes a single car, sometimes many camel caravans loading up with salt to market. Very interesting. I have been taking so many photos and videos of this geological drama. But it was essential every once in a while to bring my iPhone closer to the AC(in Aqaba, Jordan it’s battery had once swelled due to high temperature).

“We just get the whole thing over,” the lean man said. “ I do hope you’re enjoying Ethiopia. Enjoy, enjoy.” “Oh, yes,” Tsubaki said with a smile. “Everything’s fine, we must enjoy.” “Welcome to Ethiopia,” he slightly bow, placing his right hand on his left chest. “Thank you, thank you,” said the couple. Tsubaki raising her camera and snapping through the window. Jun whispering into her ear. “If you know nice viewpoints, please tell us,” I added. “Yes, I’ll pull up the car at the great viewpoints, I’ll show you.”

We drove into the little town over the dusty road. From time to time the lean man slowed the car and stopped it. He sat in his seat and gave a man a fist bump out of the window. Without instruction there was a quick exchange: money and little stuff wrapped in white paper, and he pulled away down the road.  I had not asked about them.

Then after a while the land cruiser crawled into a long abandoned village, and pulled up at a corrugated iron shack as if we had arrived somewhere. When we got out of the car, the sky clouded over. As I looked around the curious children crowded close, two ragged girl seemed to strike poses toward me. There were a dozen shacks made from wooden sticks, covered with black sheets that was patched. The other structures in the area were a combination of black sheets and corrugated metal, and on the wooden bed slat in no wall house lay a young man talking on his cell phone.

The reason for stopping was to acquire the stuff: fuel, tools, and spare tire. And so on and so on. The lean man asked me to switch the seats with the cook: they probably wanted to converse with each other. I sat beside Tsubaki and Jun beside her. The lean man got into the car and he started the engine.

The land cruiser moved on into the evening. And the road disappeared in the distance ahead. We started to climb up on rocks and and stones of the hill, twisting, losing the way sometimes. In the darkness we rumbled along, popping in the car. Holding the highest hand grip I was half slept on the back seat. And then gradually my brain became aware of what was slightly touching my shoulder. “No, you are in the wrong direction,”I thought to myself. Tsubaki’s head tilted toward me. I was getting something screwy. I knew that Ethiopia was the first stop on their long journey. The headlights swung around and outlined dark figures inside the car. I glanced quickly over. Tsubaki slept heavily. Jun kept his eyes straight ahead.

The land cruiser moved up the long hill, through the broken, rotten rock. It rumbled up the last rise and lumbered over the ground; we had come to a halt against a concrete tool shed. Then down from the car I climbed, weary and sleepy, and stretched stiff body. The thudding of the men’s feet on the stones sounded in the darkness. 

I was getting ready to climb at my iPhone light. The lean man and the cook began to unload the truck—water, a few pots to cook and wash in, and ingredients for dinner, and sleeping mats. The couple was wearing their headlamps on their hats. I was momentarily taken back, moreover, that I had failed to notice that earlier. Then I asked the lean man, “Can I borrow a headlamp?” “No,” he said sternly. “You don’t have?” “No,” I replied, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere as though it was none his business. 

The lean man in red t-shirt started to walk without saying. Tsubaki and Jun and I followed him. “Excuse me, Jun-san, I think I would follow your light,” I said. “All right,” Jun glanced back to me. At first I had walked at a steady pace, enjoying the flat gravel field as if in a cave. There was a crunch of feet that merged with silence. In my excitement, I started up the rocks, all my former weariness gone. I saw the couple climbing, stride to stride, and said, “You’re very used to climbing.” “We had often gone mountain climbing together, especially in Japan,” Jun said, looking ahead. Tsubaki, smiling at him, started to talk about memories of their climbing. 

After a while, we became silent, for the path was steep and there were quite a lot of rocks. I did my best to follow close behind him. As we ascended the rocky path at our own pace, Jun increased his speed and before long I could sense I was in danger of slipping out of control. My eyes followed a blob of yellowish light on the rocks that Jun’s headlight cast. I kept up with him, following just two step or three behind. His light jiggled over the way and I stumbled in the darkness, so much so that I had hardly reduced the distance between him and me. The hot air folded over my tight face. As I could see nothing but faint light in the distance, I stumbled forward, painfully sometimes. Jun had never turned back as if there were none. The unattractive girl had mouthed the lines of the anime characters. The lean man vanished altogether. Maybe my expression asked for help, but I stepped forward like nothing had happened before they underestimate me. Nothing, nothing ever upset me—I am the type of man who can run every single morning, regardless of rain, snowfall, typhoon, and “humiliation.”

When I think I could I fall down, I stopped uneasily, took my iPhone from my pocket and used its light to watch my step. And I followed the way that Jun had climbed. The sky was a dull black, and no star visible. Gradually, however, from the distance came a crackling sound. The smell of burned dust, and of sulfur was in the air, so that I put on a mask over my nose and mouth. The more I walked, the hotter it got. The distant yelling of Tsubaki could be sounded. The lean man, seeing I was late, stood on the top of the hill against the background of a little fire.

From the summit, the flames was all the more evident. “Eruption,”the lean man said. “Eruption?” the couple looked at each other. “Hunka(噴火)”I said in Japanese. “You see that-there?”the lean man pointed out the sights. I saw the glow of a flashlight, and suddenly the hot breath came up to us, with the volcanic ash smells on it, and with the dust particles. My eyes watered and turning back against it. 

With a hollow sound, a large red flame and a smoke rose up. The fire flared and dropped. I stared at them for a long, long time, into a deeply tranquil mood. Tears dripped from the corner of my red eyes. Erta Ale erupting and erupting. The lean man called out something from behind. When I thought he was appealing to us to go down as the night air contracted the flame, the fire was leaping redder and redder.

August 15, 2023

From Semera, we drove on for sixty miles through the desert, going straight, on the empty road. I looked ahead, seeing the fields or the little eating sheds, and occasionally stared through the window at a hundred white tents pitched on the flat land. How all of you live? Where all of you get food? Well, Afar region is mostly desert. 

The land cruiser parked somewhere. I had dozed off contently as the yellow sunlight fell on me in the front seat. Taking a tour made me not so bad—just follow the guide—I was able to be lazy. “Eat lunch here,” The driver said, “Until another guide come.” I scrambled down from the car. As I looked around I found myself in the small village. The driver led us into the straw hut. There were three square wood tables. And the chickens lay on the mad. I sat at an empty table, facing the Japanese couple, Jun and Tsubaki, a mediocre man and an unattractive girl. The local man gave us cold drinks, and we ate each plate—fried rice with corn, potatoes and carrots. It was good. 

The kids played outside as I sat on the bench in the shade. The three boys broke into trots, fooling around with me; they happily introduced themselves one by one. Every one was so eager to talk with me, that I smiled and muttered some pleasantry. After a while I noticed there was a hint of anger in Tsubaki’s voice. She was frustrated that the new guide had not come two hours after we got here. I knew they were not punctual for appointment and got used to it.

I had had managed a reminder of a dimension of her personality as though to blur out of my mind. But I found myself recalling well enough her bearing toward children. That was yesterday afternoon after viewing Alalobed hot-spring. We visited a small hay barrack, a ground straw and leaves on the floor, and at the stall in the corner. Then the children crowded inside and I went out before I was encircled. They were used to showcasing themselves as Maasai do: one tourist after another gaze them. Being involved in tourism is important for them. They would be welcoming, smiling, touching and taking photos with tourists: the adults manipulate children to receive food and other items. Of course as soon as the children saw the couple, they shouted and swarmed about them, tugging at their hands and it looked such fun that they tried to do it.

The sun seemed to light up them. The other children skittered along, hopping excitedly from foot to foot around the barrack. The couple stood inside the circle, shrieking with delight and comporting themselves with their self-satisfied smiles and smirking. The tour guide became a photographer while the sky seemed more alive than it had been. Stupid. I thought. I nauseated with revolution and loathing. Staying away from them, I became a bystander who despited a shallow couple. The tour guide gave me the cold shoulder, but I never made a smile.

Japanese who visit African country do want photos with children. She solicits African children to take photos with her—not from children. Her belief is that she did do something worthwhile. She believes it sincerely. She posts them on social media that makes her look likable the way she loves children. But what did she contribute for them? If you were serious about poverty, you would not have time for that. A real man never do that. I revere Hans Rosling; I had read the book FactFullness. I am very sorry for Tetsu Nakamura; he drilled wells and constructed irrigation canals for poverty.

Now and then Tsubaki rose to her feet and clenched her fists at her side, looking the road over which we had come. “Now that you say it, the new guide isn’t coming,”I said. “I texted it to the tour company,”she said blankly, wondering about Jun, who sat on another bench with his legs crossed. A boy fiddled with my neckless I wore all the time. She called to the tour company. “That driver said somebody picked up us here, but not come,” her face went grim with anger.

I remembered vividly more of the argument I had had with that woman. On the last night, I had been in my hotel room, googling Kenya Visa. I heard someone knocking on the door. Listening through it I could not of course determine to open the door late at night, but the knocking never stopped. I wondered who was there and finally opened the door. I saw a dark figure of a woman. “Pay!”she said. “What?” “Hotel fee.” “I already paid the tour company, it includes in the tour.” “No. Pay! Eight hundred(About 20 dollar, It was the cheap hotel, in spite of 400 dollar for the tour).“I already paid. Ask my tour company!” “No. Pay!” this stupid bitch hold out her hand. “You’re very rude,”I blurted out, so I made me bring myself under control.” “I call the tour guide now.” I had been waiting for him to answer impatiently. Fuck. “Tomorrow, the tour company pay you. Okay?” I said softly. The stupid bitch slipped back into the darkness.

Tsubaki had been continuing. “Full refund! Okay?”she demanded at last, with some irritation, and she hung up the phone. Her eyes were blank and her lips writhed. “They are looking for someone who can come now, but no one,” she muttered. She had certainly created a tense atmosphere around us, characterized by distrust. The boy had touched my neckless gently or mischievously while she had been silent before the kids.

I opened What’sAPP and typed a message. 

‘We are in Silesa. The new guide hasn’t come for so long. Immediately arrange new guide who take us.’—2:15PM✓✓

“I texted the person of the tour company a message, too,”I hold out my iPhone so Tsubaki could see. “Ah, thank you very much, K-san,”she said soberly. “Maybe reached the boss, but, it would be difficult to be sure.”I said.

A little kid was struggling to open the number pad lock on my backpack I put beside me. Then his brother joined in, and I had been letting the two kids play—I seemed to talk so freely with an open mind. At that point I was praising myself just a little bit. I had been a man who was difficult to get along with kids and pets.

“I’ll definitely get a full refund,”she muttered furiously to herself. “You got a reply?” I asked. “No. Just marked as read,”she said. “Why we have to wait this long?” “Maybe, because of after Corona. They are disorganized and the ways of thinking differ from ours,” I went on. “And I heard the most of organized tour groups were based in Mekele. But we are Semera. Maybe, largely on account of the wars, especially the borders between the countries. Either way, they abandoned us in the desert,” I sighed. Jumping and yelling, the two had opened the lock—000. “Great!”I said to them, turning back to her. “But thanks to you here, this seems to reassure me. My style is acting alone. If I were alone here, now, I just get panicky.”

I texted again.

“Nobody come. We 3 member really really worry it will be dark in the desert. We were left.”—3:23PM✓✓

“If a new guide came now, it would be near midnight before we get there,”said Tsubaki. “No longer do I need dinner or sleep. Take us to get there anyway,” she said flatly. “Yeah,” I agreed. And then I opened the google map on my iPhone—I started where we were. Jun, a mediocre man supplemented by her English, was temporarily isolated.  “From here it’s perhaps about one hundred twenty miles, so we could be there in three or four hours,”I said to a mediocre man, who began to google on his phone set up by Japanese language. “One hundred twenty miles. It’s not that far away, isn’t, it?’’ he went on,“We can still make it. I wish we could go.”

“What should we do? We are afraid of everything.”—4:21PM✓✓

A car pulled up beside the road. I lifted my eyes and we strolled to the land cruiser. Three men had got out out of the car. They were sharped-faced men, and they looked very clean from head to toe. And at the front was a man with black sunglasses, dressed in traditional clothes. He had on a massive silver bracelet. The two man wore new western shirts, blue jeans, and leather shoes. They walked about, bossy in clean clothes, the way atmosphere turned.

A ragged man like a village mayor went to a corrugated iron shed. The young men carried the gunny sacks in their hands and put them in front of the three. The randy man noticed Asian faces and gazed at us. “China!” he said, “What are you doing? China, huh?”he asked. I found that absurd and said. “Sorry, I can’t speak English.” We just stood quietly; he made a mockery of it. “China,”he said again.

We were nervous while the sky started to be covered with cloud. I was bored in a small village, which made the kids scattered. Tsubaki and I sat on the same bench. “I added further pressure to them, by WhatsApp.”I said, having been on my phone. “Oh, I got a reply! I hadn’t noticed.”  

I read out loud.

“I am sorry for the problem we caused, and we understand the frustration we put you through. driver is coming”—4:23PM✓✓

“I never got one reply,”she was frustrated. “They’re licking me.” “Maybe, I shouldn’t reply. Ignoring without thank you,”I said. “Yeah, I agree with you. Leave on read.” she said, “We should make us look steadily stronger—or else they lick us.” “I think so.”

We three had vaguely wondered the village and I asked Tsubaki. “Do you believe that? They say the driver is coming.” “I don’t know. But perhaps they had performed some kind of action,”she looked forlornly at the road. 

“Ah, they are coming.” Then with a little smile she seemed to regain her poise. I could see a land cruiser on the road. The car charged in, it’s wheels screamed, and a cloud of sand from the ground fluffed up and spread out. A lean, quick man in a red t-shirt got out of the car.