Fictitious thieves

20 October 2011

Desperate for a bit of exercise, fresh air and conversation in English 6 of my PC peers went on a hike last weekend. South of town is a popular Orthodox Christian church at the base of a extensive forest preserva. We set a time to meet and even recruited a guide, Benih, Dexter’s homestay brother. Benih is a petite, yet confident 12 year old. As we set out from town we marched through a eucalyptus plantation as the kids from town warned us “jib, jib” we ignored them and continued to the river because we knew that the hyenas would be more afraid of us. We skipped across the rocks wandering back and forth across the river, until we found out trail and our destination in the horizon. Through the soybean, wheat, sugar snap peas and teff fields we took pictures, admired old lonely acacia trees and practiced our greetings on those who passed us. “Dehna walk” we would announce, but replies were slow as the shock of witnessing a white foreigner can take a while to wear off.

We made it to our destination in under two hours and found ourselves at the front gate of the church. As we walked in monkeys scampered away startling the goats that grazed the tattered landscaping. Some of ran off to find the monkeys, others to observe the church and I wandered pathetically trying to determine tree species in the church yard. We reconvened and headed back down the hills towards home passing the 8 year old sheep herder, tired pack donkeys, and the mud walled homes with thatched roofs that are worthy of a National Geographic magazine cover. Though we took the same route, our walk home seemed to hold as much yet different beautiful scenery which we shared, photographed and discussed all the way home. As we came into town again we found ourselves surrounded by children who want the opportunity to shake our hands, practice their English and laugh uncontrollably at the thought of doing either. We shake, greet, smile and continue on our way. A walk through town is never direct or lonely; it is occasionally exhausting, consistently bizarre yet flattering and benign all the same; so we play along and mosey forward.

The next morning before class my friend Jessica informs Kathryn and I that her father had heard a rumor in town that someone stole her house key. She explained that this was not only false, but that we hadn’t even met a hostile individual in our path. He insisted that she show him all of her keys, and after doing so he had her call Dexter’s brother Benih so that Dexter’s father and hers could discuss our harmless hike. The three of us laughed it off went to language class where our teacher immediately asked us about what we had been doing on Saturday. We told him we went for a nice walk, and he said “oh yes, you should not continue to do this because I heard your were robbed!” Again, we denied such events and brushed off the conversation. A few more days off before we hear that someone took the initiative to call the Mayor of our town and report that the ferengis (foreigners) we robbed south of town. Good thing there isn’t a local printing press to send out tabloids. It seems that 6 white people in a town of 15,000 are something worthy of talk about, even if there isn’t much to say. It’s fairly harmless, especially since it isn’t true, but it sure makes attempting another short hike a heavy thing to consider.