Deep in Africa

by Karen S. Riggin

I was traveling through the jungle on an expedition with my team, when a large chimpanzee centered his eyes on me. He eeked and made other ape-like noises. The group began to laugh, saying that it was clear that the ape was in love with me.

It hurts to be one,
Cast away from the others,
Even by a joke

It was true that the animal had formed an attachment to me. He stayed far enough away that he was not in danger of capture, but he never took his eyes from me. Nor did he watch the others. I alone, for some reason, was the magnet.

But his eyes were not the only frightening part of that journey. You can’t imagine what it is like to be trapped on all sides by jungle vines. We had one narrow alley of passage inside a labyrinth of snake-infested green, and that single path was hewn by a sharp, crescent-shaped machete whose owner slashed for minutes without pause. When he gew tired, he would step aside and another would take his place, leaving us, the Americans, to walk steadily on.

Sweat dripped freely from our faces. Our shirts clung. Torrential downpours drenched us, only to be followed by more heat and steam-drying. One of us would feel a spider climbing a limb and scream. Someone would flick it off, and we would walk on. Nothing stopped us. Our legs twisted in spasms, but we continued.

The chimpanzee kept even with our pace. He swung above us, staring down from great heights, but he was always there. Bored with our walk, my team grew vicious in their teasing of me. There was no place I could flee. The heat increased my irritation; had a spider fallen on me, I probably would have ripped off its legs.

Ensnared by laughter
The brunt of every jester
Can’t they see my pain?

That evening, we roasted fresh meat that one of the guides had killed. There were papayas, guavas, watermelon, and some kind of roots I’d never heard of. We dined well and rested, satisfied with full bellies and the cooling fall of night. The others were temporarily tired of tormenting me. They stretched out and talked of other things. I relaxed and began to think that all this had not really been a mistake.

I woke in the night
Beside a warm, hairy ape
I screamed, and he ran.

The ribbing grew worse as the morning’s sun sweated us. The smell of the ape was in my clothes and hair. I shivered with horror. The team’s taunts were worse than the tiny gnats that buzzed about us.

Nobody seemed to think what had happened to me was anything but funny, but an ape is a wild animal. Its teeth could have bitten me. Its strength could have pulled me into the woods. I continued walking because I had to, but all that was saving me from hysteria was my fatigue.

My legs were trembling
Fear was sending messages
My mind screamed for home.

Another full day of traveling followed, with that creature constantly staring at me. And then we reached the village of Magajah. We were strangers, yet we walked into their warmth.

The children hugged us
Women fed us special treats
Ubiquitous love

We were supposed to be teaching the village people, but they taught us more. Tanelher Bailah quickly became my friend. She sent her husband to his brother’s and shared her home with me. She taught me her family’s secret recipe for yam paste. Her children became my children. I became part of a family, part of a village.

In Bailah’s village
The secret to happiness
Community

One day I told Bailah about the ape that had followed me through the jungle. I had worried that she might not believe my story. My fear seemed ridiculous to recall in the warmth of the village. Bailah did not question my words. Her eyes grew round and she began to chant.

Babdedulahla,
Protector of Purity,
Guarded your safety

That put all my experiences in a different light. I skipped over the purity bit. There’s no way an ape could have known about that! I laughed, and Bailah, instead of being offended, laughed with me. Then all the village children came running, gathering about us, for laughter is another of the secrets of Bailah’s village. When one laughs, all join in.

In the months that followed, my American culture dripped like melted fat, falling from my slendered body. I took on a different cloak, one with soft and comfortable lining.

I crossed an ocean
And discovered a new world
Now inside I’ve changed

All too soon the time came to leave. My tears salted the ground. Tanelher Bailah and I were sisters — bonded by love. I hugged her, gave my presents to the village elders, and slipped into the forest with the rest of my team.

It was not until the afternoon that we saw my ape trailing us. Once more he followed me with his eyes. I ignored the jests of the others and continued on. If Babdedulahla, Protector of Innocence, had chosen to accompany me, I was flattered.

In the days that followed the ape’s gentle coffee-black eyes no longer weighted my soul; they comforted. My friends again tried to tease me. I smiled.

Once the group played a trick on the chimp, pretending to do me harm. The ape became wild with rage. Our guide was very angry with my friends. He lectured scoldingly. None of us understood his words, but my teammates did not tease again.

The last day of travel, the jungle grew sparse. I knew I must say goodbye to Babdedulahla. I asked for some bananas. When the guard understood why, he handed me an entire bunch. His smiles let me know that he approved. The smile passed from guide to guide.

My eyes held no fear
As I handed the chimp fruit.
He took them and left.

So in the end, one could say that the chimp had only followed me for such a reward. He had stayed by my side for five slender bananas, watching every night with glassy eyes that reflected like moonlight. It is possible. That is white man logic. But then, Tanelher Bailah had told me that the chimp was the Protector of Purity, and that is logical, too.

I will never know which truth to believe, but a part of Africa has been grafted into me. So now I comfortably see two different visions, and I laugh and love more freely.

It is my hope that Babdedulahla will watch over me no matter which jungle I travel through. I smile with that thought as I journey back to my faraway native land.

To Challenge 427...