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.