The Impenetrable Forest by Thor Hanson

Author:Thor Hanson [Hanson, Thor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Curtis Brown Unlimited
Published: 2014-06-04T04:00:00+00:00

13

Friends

I think I could turn and live with animals…. They do not sweat and whine about their condition . . . Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

—Walt Whitman

from Song of Myself, 1855

On my birthday, John treated me to dinner at Hope and Phenny’s place, the H & P Canteen. They lived and cooked in a narrow metal-roofed building directly across from the campground, serving up made-to-order meals of cabbage, beans, fried potatoes, and groundnut stew to the growing stream of tourists now visiting the park. John and I were regular customers too. The food was good, but we came just as much to socialize with the couple we’d grown to like so well: Phenny, the prankster with a serious heart, and Hope, a tireless source of kindness and capability in any situation.

In many ways, they represented the best possibilities for a place like Buhoma, two people from traditional families who instinctively grasped the potential of every new development in their community. They held good jobs, built a thriving restaurant business, and moved comfortably between village life and the emerging tourist culture of the park. Hope and Phenny seemed completely at ease with muzungus, yet still held respected positions in the village. She helped found the women’s group and kept books for the community campground, while Phenny’s leadership and work ethic made him a natural successor to his father, a leading village elder, or even his uncle, the local chief.

John had ordered chips ahead of time to go with the bottle of ketchup he’d found in Kampala. We sat inside and Hope came to join us, frowning thoughtfully as she sampled the exotic condiment. “It’s a bit sweet for potatoes, John,” she concluded. “Maybe as dessert?”

A young cousin came in from the kitchen, and Hope directed her on preparing the rest of the meal. She may have been taking a break from cooking, but there was no question about who was in charge. In spite of her full-time job at the park, Hope still managed the busy canteen every night and seemed involved in just about everything that happened in the village.

“I think that Buhoma will just stop when you have your maternity leave,” John joked with her, and she laughed until she coughed. “I’m serious,” he insisted. “You’re running this whole village!”

She protested and excused herself to the kitchen in embarrassment, but John was right. It was hard to imagine a functioning Buhoma without Hope.

After dinner, Phenny, John, and I walked deep into the forest without flashlights, stepping carefully along familiar trails made strange by the darkness. We stopped at the first Munyaga bridge, three friends sitting over a black rush of water, talking about the ways our lives had crossed. I thought of a simple goal I’d had in joining the Peace Corps, to make friendships unbounded by the gaps of cultural difference. With Tom Ntale I’d gotten off to a strong start in Kajansi, and realized now that my real birthday present lay in finding the same thing happening in Buhoma.

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