MY BAD

Reemerging from out-of-connection world soon... Sorry about that.

Mille et un Soleils6/One Thousand Suns and a Sun6: Fish!

Pour étranges qu’aient été tous les phénomènes décrits jusque là, j’en avais vu de plus surprenants par le passé. Mais je dois reconnaître que je ne m’étais jamais de ma vie trouvé dans un endroit qui ne semblait accepter qu’une seule couleur, et par ailleurs, je ne pouvais oublier le sens des convenances, dans quelque situation que je me trouvasse. Bien que ce nocher branchu fût un être singulier, il était probable qu’il avait un géniteur et une génitrice, peut-être tout un village d’êtres branchus, et il devait, par conséquent, avoir reçu une éducation quelconque. Je m’éclaircis donc la gorge pour me présenter le plus cérémonieusement possible dans les circonstances données (C'est-à-dire que cet individu me présentait toujours son postérieur).

Après que j’eus accompli cette formalité, je vis une sorte de feuille choir lentement de l’une des branchioles du nocher, et atterrir précisément dans mon giron. C’était apparemment une note, que je m’empressai de lire. Voici ce qu’elle portait :

« Bonjour passager. Je suis Triokolo

Si tu te plains du bleu qui est ton lot

Remarque que le bleu est la teinte du monde

Elle colore les cieux et les ondes

C’est la carnation de la planète

Et aussi celle des nuits de fête.

Mais de toute façon, passager,

Nous ne faisons qu’y passer.

Une fois les dangers traversés ce soir,

Je t’amuserai de mon histoire. »

Décidément, quel être intéressant ! Ces branchioles sont donc une espèce d’organe de communication ! Quelle autre surprise me réservait-il ?

Mais en lisant la note, j’avais remarqué quelque chose qui avait fait passer une ombre sur mon cœur. Je la relus rapidement. Ah ! oui, voici : « Une fois les dangers traversés ce soir. »

Des dangers ? Que voulait dire cela ? Et de plus, étant donné que tout était bleu, par quels signes saurais-je que le temps passe et le soir tombe ? Je vis d’un coup tout l’inconfort de cette situation, qui confinait au cauchemar : s’attendre à un danger inconnu qui devait survenir à un moment insensible. Je me sentis devenir fort malheureux, et m’apprêtait à demander à mon compagnon rimailleur d’éclaircir ma lanterne lorsque, justement, je vis à l’horizon devant nous une intense lumière blanche qui mangea tout le bleu – et de cette lumière jaillirent des choses qui paraissaient vivantes et malveillantes. J’eus assez de présence d’esprit pour me rendre compte que c’était des poissons. Du moins ils en donnaient l’impression – mais ils étaient fort gros, comme gonflés, et leur tête ressemblait à une gueule affamée, vorace.

Nouvelle note chéant – et le nocher bondit dans la lumière, transperçant d’un bâton aigu un poisson. Tandis qu’il se livrait au carnage, je lus :

« Passager, admire les poissons de Séléné

Dont une morsure pourra te mener

A travers des fièvres éternelles

Vers une mort faite de larmes et de fiel. »

For all their strangeness, the phenomena I have thus far described were not stranger than things I had seen in the past. But I must confess I had never been in a place which seems to accept only one color, and besides, whatever the situation, I always was keen on the sense of common courtesy. Even though that boatman with branches and buds was a peculiar type, he likely had parents of both sexes, and perhaps an entire village of like-shaped personages, and so he must have some basic principles of good manners. Clearing my throat, I introduced myself as ceremoniously as possible under the existing circumstances (must I remind everyone that I was still facing the behind of that person?)

After I was done with that formality, I saw a kind of leaf dropping slowly down from one of the smaller branches of the boatman, and landing on my lap. That looked like a note, and I read on. Here’s what it said:

Greetings passenger, Triokolo’s my name

If this blue all around seems all too lame

Observe that for the globe ‘tis the hue

Skies and all water are things blue

This is indeed the planet’s color

The glow night revelers look for.

But, consider passenger that, anyway

Here we are only making our way.

Once the evening’s perils are left behind

My fun story I’ll bring to your mind.

This is decidedly a most interesting being. So those back branches are organs of communication of sorts! Did he have other surprises like that one in store?

But while reading the note, something had cast a slight shadow over my heart. I read it again, quickly. Oh, here it was: “Once the evening’s perils are left behind.”

Perils? What the heck did that mean? And besides, given that everything was blue, how was I to tell that night was falling? I suddenly realized the difficulty of my situation, which verged on the nightmarish: to expect an unknown danger which was set to spring at an unknown moment. I felt I was becoming rather miserable, and was about to ask my rhyming companion to enlighten me a bit when, precisely, I saw rising at the horizon an intense white light which ate up all the blue – and from that light pounced things that looked living and nasty. I was sufficiently alert to see that they were fish. Or they looked so – but they were fat, as if inflated, and their head looked like a famished, voracious jaw.

New note dropping – and the boatman jumped up in the light, piercing one fish with a pointed stick. As he was thus performing quite a massacre, I read:

Passenger, the fish of Selene do admire

One bite would entrench you in the mire

Of fevers eternal whose bitter ties

Will drag you down to tearful demise

Orokie in Mali?

By way of apology for long interruption: was travelling in Mali, where I chanced upon this wall drawing in the Old City of Mopti. You'd swear Orokie was there. Look out for next posting...

Mille et un Soleil 5/One Thousand Sun and a Sun 5: Bleu

Cette exclamation de Soko était pour le moins inattendue, et je n’étais pas sûr qu’elle s’adressait

à moi. Je regardai instinctivement autour de moi, mais il n’y avait personne à qui ces mots avaient pu s’adresser, et d’ailleurs tout le monde

me regardait à présent avec un air pensif qui semblait souligner que j’étais en cause.

« Veuillez vous expliquer – qu’ai-je fait ? », fis-je en me tournant de nouveau vers Soko, mais ce dernier ne semblait plus s’intéresser à moi. Il retirait ses vêtements. Son visage était calme, on dirait qu’il n’était plu

s Soko, il n’avait plus ce caractère vulgaire et impatientant, il était remplacé par un autre lui-même, qui me parut tout à fait séduisant et tout à fait intimidant. Néanmoins, je tâchais de ne pas me laisser faire.

« Dites donc ? Vous pensez que c’est le moment de prendre un bain ? » dis-je brusquement.

En réponse de quoi, Soko :

« Tu vas entrer dans le monde bleu, et suivre le nocher branchu. »

Et avant que j’ai pu faire les remarques qui s’imposaient devant ce charabia, Soko fit un signe de ses doigts, comme pour tracer un quadrilatère, et une fenêtre bleue apparut soudain sous ses yeux, un beau carré si intensément bleu que tout autour l’air lui-même parut se fondre dans l’ocre de la terre, et tirer vers un brun uni. Soko regarda intensément cette fenêtre, sans mon étonnement, mais avec une attente très vive dans son corps vibrant. La fenêtre s’élargit soudain, et dans le temps d’un sou

ffle, tout, absolument tout devint bleu autour de nous, et Soko s’agitait à faire des bizarres manipulations avec un bizarre instrument qui, en y regardant de près s’avéra être l’antique quantificateur – l’abaque. Les doigts agiles de Soko coururent sur les billes avec une prestesse singulière… Et soudain je me rendis compte que ce garçon, en fin de compte, n’était vraiment pas Soko. En fait, c’était celui-là même, le garnement qui semblait avoir transformé un reptile monstrueux en colibri. Comme je ne me retenais jamais de poser des questions, bien que personne ne parût juger nécessaire de me répondre, je demandai au garnement ce qu’il avait fait de Soko. Je ne pense pas qu’il m’ait entendu. Il disposait à présent des grands livres noirs sur le vide bleu, les ouvrit, et se mit à les feuilleter, cherchant manifestement une page en particulier. Il étala soudain les deux livres grand ouverts, et de l’un d’entre eux surgit avec un bruit de papier crissant une grande et longue chose creuse, une pirogue couleur d’eau de source, arborant un joyeux petit fanion – tandis

que de l’autre bouquin s’éleva, avec le même bruit, un être bleu au dos hérissée de branches festonnées d’écriteaux, de buissons de gribouillis.

Le garnement éclata de rire, et soudain, il ne fut plus là. Le nocher branchu se tint débout devant moi, immobile, dans la pirogue, les mains croisées par derrière, sous les magnifiques lobes de ses fesses. Je compris l’invitation. Je montais dans la pirogue,et me sentis aussi devenir tout bleu...

That exclamation from Soko was rather unexpected, and I wasn’t sure it was directed at me. I instinctively looked around, but there

was no one to whom these words would have been directed, and for that matter, everyon

e now was eyeing me in a pensive stare, which seemed to stress that I was the interesting object here.

“Would you explain

– what have I done?” I said, turning again to Soko, but the latter did no longer look interested in me. He was undressing. His face was calm, he didn’t look like he was Soko, he had lost the vulgar and the irritating in his cha

racter, he was replaced by another of his selves, who was truly seductive and quite intimidating. Regardless, I didn’t want him to get the best of me.

“Say sir, you think this is time for bathing?”, said I roughly.

Soko’s reply was this:

“You’re going to enter the Blue Universe, and follow

the branch-adorned boatman.”

And before I could make any observations that such gobbledygook deserved, Soko waived his fingers, as if drawing a four-sided figure, and a blue window suddenly materialized under his gaze, a square so intensely blue that all around the air itself seemed to blend into the ochre of the earth, and to turn into solid brown. Soko stared fixedly at the window, without my puzzlement, but with some lively anticipation permeating his excited body. Then all of sudden the window widened, and, in a whiff, everything became totally cerulean around us, and Soko was now busy performing bizarre manipulations with a bizarre device, which, after closer look, turned out to be the ancient quantifier – the abacus. Soko’s nimble fingers ran over the little balls with an outlandish quickness… And that’s where I realized that this was not in fact Soko, not really. This was that same little rascal who appeared to have transmogrified a mammoth reptile into a humming-bird. Since I had developed the habit of asking questions which no one ever thought worthwhile to answer, I asked that scallywag what he had done to Soko. I don’t think he heard me. He was now putting up large black books against the blue void, opened them, and browsed through them, evidently in quest of a certain page. Then he spread them wide open, and from one of them a big, long, hollow thing, a spring-water-colored dugout sporting a gay little pennant, emerged, in a crisp hiss of paper – and from the other, with the same sound, a blue being with his back bristling with branches scalloped with notices, thickets of scribbling.

The little rascal laughed, and suddenly, was gone. The branch-adorned boatman stood up in front of me, motionless, the hands crossed in his back, under the alluring bowl of his buttocks. I got the word. I climbed into the dugout, and felt I was turning all indigo, me too…

Mille et un Soleil 4/One Thousand Sun and a Sun 4: Dancing

Regardant dans la direction qu’il m’indiquait, je vis… Mais d’abord je dois noter ceci, car c’est vraiment des plus curieux. Jusqu’à ce moment là, où je vis ce que je vis, je n’avais pas entendu cette musique chamarrée et polyrythmique qui, à présent, devenait presque le seul bruit que j’entendais. C’était comme si la musique avait été suscitée par le danseur. Une parfaite silhouette de garçon noir, de garçon africain, virevoltant avec élan et énergie, dans une de ces danses qui ressemblent aussi – dans l’exacte coordination des mouvements – à une gymnastique pleine de grâce.

« C’est la danse des trois jambes », dit Soko.

J’allais remarquer que c’était un nom absurde pour une danse aussi harmonieuse, lorsqu’il m’apparut clairement que le danseur semblait en effet user de trois jambes – et puis je compris que cette troisième jambe, ma foi, était, pour dire le tout, une fort belle jambe, et épiçait au mieux cette danse fantastique.

Mais au fur et à mesure qu’il dansait ainsi, le danseur s’éloignait, et avec lui, la merveilleuse musique qui nimbait ses pirouettes d’une si noble chaleur. Cette vision, véritablement, remplissait d’adoration, et on ne voulait pas qu’elle finît. On voudrait suivre le danseur sur cette piste mystérieuse où il glissait, mais, comme dans ses rêves de nuit chaude où l’on voudrait courir, mais où l’on a les pieds liés par on ne sait quels invisibles cordages, on reste pourtant sur place, immobile, effaré.

« Nchoupa… », murmurai-je.

C’était donc ça. Un être qu’on ne connait que par le bonheur dont il vous emplit, et dont on ressent soudain un besoin infini. Pas vraiment un dieu – il n’est pas question ici de terreur

et de majesté. Mais autour de moi, chacun souriait, tout semblait fun, et un des garçons alluma un boombax, qui émit une version assourdie de la musique que nous venions d’entendre. S’étreignant lui-même de contentement, il se mit à faire la danse des trois jambes avec un grand sourire.

Je me tournais vers Soko, et bien que me disant que je ne devais pas lui dire ce que je m’apprêtais à lui dire, je le lui dis quand même :

« Je veux rencontrer Nchoupa. »

Je m’attendais à tout, sauf à ce que Soko me répondit, avec un air calme et fatal :

« C’est donc toi ! »

Looking in the direction he indicated, I saw… But first I must point this out, for it is something most curious. Up to when I saw what I saw, I hadn’t heard that ornamental and polyrhythmic music which had now grown into the only sound that I could hear. It is as if the music were woven out of the steps of the dancer. The perfect figure of a black boy, of an African boy, twirling eagerly and vigorously, in one of those dances which – owing to the precise coordination of every move – look like some stylish piece of calisthenics.

“That’s the three-legs dance,” said Soko.

I was about to observe that the name was not too suitable for such an elegant dancing, when it clearly appeared to me that the dancer in fact seemed to use three legs – and I made out that the said third leg was, I own, a very pretty one, and it spiced up very well that splendid ballet.

But as he was dancing, the dancer was moving away, and with him, the wonderful music that showered his pirouettes with such noble warmth. The vision verily filled one with adulation, and one would beg for it never to end. One would love to follow the dancer on that mysterious floor where he glided forth, but, like in those dreams of a hot night in which one wants to run and yet one is tied up by invisible ropes, one stays put, inert, upset.

“Nchupa”, I whispered.

So here it was. Somebody you know only through the happiness with which he fills you, and for whom you feel an infinite need. Not really a god – there is no question here of terror and majesty. But around me, everyone was smiling, everything seemed fun, and one boy turned on a boombax, which let out a faded version of the music that we just heard. Embracing his own body in a fit of joy, he started to do the three-legs dance, grinning.

I turned to Soko, and, even as I was thinking that I shouldn’t say what I was about to say, I said it anyway.

“I wish to meet Nchupa.”

I expected everything, but not what Soko respo

nded, in a tone quiet and fatal:

“So that’s you !”

Interruption

I am travelling until Oct. 13, and thought I had brought with me my Orokie folder, the inspiration for the Alif Shams wal Shams. But it isn't in my drive. So there is a two-week interruption in the story. I will try compensating with something else in-between. My apologies.

Mille et un soleils 3/One Thousand Suns and One 3. Like a Flower

A ce moment, il se produisit une chose… Malheureusement, je ne peux m’en porter témoin véridique. Je l’aurais bien voulu, et peut-être même que, ma foi, j’aurais pu me permettre de mentir là-dessus. Après tout, même si je n’ai pas vu exactement dans quels détails la chose s’est produite – à cause de la vitesse phénoménale de l’événement – je peux tout de même dire que j’étais sur place, et si seulement j’avais prêté attention au bon moment… Donc je pourrais dire que j’ai tout vu, et celui qui me contesterait à cet égard trouverait à qui parler. Mais bon : à quoi cela servirait-il ? Le fait est que je n’ai pas vu la chose se produire au moment précis où elle se produisait, et le tout est donc pour moi comme un de ces numéros de prestidigitation dont on n’est jamais assez rapide et éveillé pour deviner le « truc » (sauf qu’ici, il n’y avait pas de « truc »).

Le fait est qu’en dépit de l’effroi que me donnait le spectacle du lézard géant, j’avais senti comme une autre présence derrière moi… Vous savez comme c’est, lorsqu’on est dans ces états d’alerte ! Et si c’était un autre monstre, qui sait… Donc, voilà, je me retournai subito presto, juste pour vérifier. Et là, je vis tous ces garçons du lac, les baigneurs, alignés là-haut, debout, tout nus, et nous observant en chuchotant entre eux. J’étais étonné du spectacle, et gardai un instant le regard fixé sur eux. Mais ne voilà-t-il pas qu’ils se mirent tous à applaudir et à faire des huées bruyantes et à gigoter – et quand je me retournai vers l’endroit où se trouvaient le crocodile et le garnement, eh bien, je ne vis plus que ce dernier en train d’échanger un regard des plus langoureux avec un oiseau rouge et bleu, qu’il tenait comme une fleur.

« Est-ce le croco ??? » m’exclamai-je, assez bêtement, je dois dire.

Sur quoi Soko déboula à mes côtés, qui se mit à me crier dessus avec une excitation vraiment excessive :

« Alors ? Alors ? Vous avez vu Nchoupa ? Vous l’avez vu ? »

« Comment ? », fis-je, lorsqu’il m’en laissa l’occasion : « C’est ce petit mec…

euh… bon lanceur de poids

et un peu magicien, apparemment, mais… là…. » (Je tâchai d’exprimer ma déception, sans tout à fait savoir quoi penser en fait.)

« Non ! Regardez ! Regardez ! », fit Soko avec impatience.

Then something happened… Unfortunately, I cannot claim that I am a truthful witness of that event. I very much wish I could, and well, I might be entitled to lie on the whole business. After all, even though I did not see in what exact details the thing occurred – due to the extraordinary speed of the event – I can still affirm that I was there, and if only I had looked on at the right moment… So, I might claim that I’d seen it all happening, and he who would dare contradict would soon find reasons to regret it. But what the trouble for? The fact is, I didn’t see it happening at the precise moment it happened, and the whole thing is therefore for me like those prestidigitation tricks that we are never sufficiently quick-minded and attentive to debunk (but there was nothing to debunk in that event anyway).

The fact is, in spite of the terror I was feeling before the giant lizard, I had felt something else behind me… You know how it is, when one is in those states of vigilance! And what if there was another monster, who knows…

So there, I looked back quick and fast, just to check. And there, I saw all the boys of the lake, the bathers, standing in line, stark naked and watching us while whispering amongst themselves. I was a bit taken by the show, and looked at them for a short while. Upon what, they started to clap, to jeer noisily, to push and shove – and when I turned my attentions back to where the crocodile and the brat stood, well, I saw nothing else but the brat, who was now exchanging a languid stare with a little red and blue bird, which he held in his hand as if it were a flower.

“Is that the croco???” I yelled, rather idiotically,

I must say.

And then here was Soko at my side, who started shouting at me with a rather unnecessary agitation:

“So! So ! Have you seen Nchupa ? Have you ?.

“What ?” said I, when he let me speak : “Is it that youngin… huh… a good weight thrower and a bit of a magician, it looks like, but… well…” (I was trying to express my disappointment, but didn’t know what to think in fact.)

“No! Look! Look !”, said Soko, impatiently.

Mille et un soleils 2/One Thousand Suns and One 2. Lézard Géant

Là-dessus, Soko (j’avais entendu une personne qui passait l’appeler ainsi) se redressa de tout son long et me demanda si j’étais d’accord.

« Que vous me montriez cette chose, être, entité ? Certainement, car de toute façon… »

Je me tus car il mit un doigt sur sa bouche et fit soudain une drôle de tête, comme s’il écoutait quelqu’un d’autre en train de lui parler. Tout concentré, tout ouïes. Je supposai que c’était sa manière histrionesque de refléchir, ou de paraître refléchir.

Mais j’entendis aussi, finalement, car un silence progressif s’installait, et ce bruit nouveau agissait comme une ombre qui couvrait un terrain jonché d’étincelantes particules. Je l’entendais mieux parce qu’il tuait tout autre bruit. Les garçons se turent un à un, et même les oiseaux, les insectes. Seul le lac respirait, comme la brise caressait son corps lustré.

Le nouveau était curieux, un bruit produit par quelque chose de lourd et de lent, oui, lourd, lent, mais aussi, puissant, si puissant que c’en était – terrifiant. Je n’avais pas vu ce qui faisait ce bruit sourd et lourd, mais je savais d’instinct que c’était quelque chose qui intimait respect et épouvante. Autour de nous, certains s’éloignaient lentement à reculons, et ceux qui ne bougeaient pas avaient pris l’immobilité de morceaux de bois mort.

Je sursautai. Venait de bondir devant moi un garçon qui dansait en tenant l’image sculptée d’un crocodile pourvu d’un majestueux phallus. C’était fort inattendu, et je ne pus m’empêcher d’éclater de rire. Soko se tourna vers moi, la bouche grand ouverte, tandis que la danse du garçon au crocodile devenait de plus en plus endiablée. Il lança la statuette de saurien bien haut dans le ciel.

Elle partit comme une vrille, et retomba très, très loin, vraiment très loin. Au beau milieu du lac en fait. Cela me coupa toute envie de rire. Voilà ce à quoi je pensai, naturellement, en seulement cinq secondes, et sans autant de mots : « Si cette statue est partie aussi haut et est retombée en produisant un aussi puissant éclaboussis au milieu du lac, c’est qu’il doit être bien lourd ; si un garçon d’apparence aussi frêle a pu le projeter aussi loin et aussi puissamment, c’est qu’il s’agit, ma foi, d’un démon ! »

Mais le garçon dévalait le chemin caillouteux de la berge, et sans penser à ce que je faisais, je le suivis. C’était tout à fait irrésistible. D’ailleurs personne ne pensa à me retenir. Puis je vis le garçon accroupi à côté d’une espèce de monticule vert et gris, dont le haut, cependant, se releva, dont le bas se mut lentement, avec ce bruit là, ce fameux bruit, et je reconnus un lézard gigantesque, un crocodile qui devait peser, par là, cinq tonnes au bas mot, et dont la gueule s’ouvrit démesurément, s’apprêtant selon toute vraisemblance à croquer d’une bouchée l’imprudent garnement qui était allé lui titiller les naseaux. J’étais fort pressé de voir cette horreur se produire. Tout bonnement : « s’il le bouffe, il ne pourra pas me bouffer ! » Voilà ce que je pensai, ne me sentant pas hors de portée, d’autant que mes

jambes s’étaient refroidies totalement.

After which Soko (someone passing by just called him that) stood up hovering and asked if it was okay.“Okay to show me that thing, being, entity? Well, yes, since at any rate..."

I stopped talking, because he put a finger on his lips and looked suddenly quite weird, as if someone was whispering weird things to him. Very focused and attentive. To me, that was perhaps his histrionic way of thinking, or at least of looking as if he was thinking.

But finally, I heard it, because silence was gradually settling, and that new noise was feeling like a shadow swallowing a field lit with bright little bits. I could hear it better because it was killing all other noise. The boys, one by one, fell silent, and even birds and bugs. Only the lake breathed, as the breeze stroke its lustrous body.

The new sound was strange, a noise made by something bulky and slow, yes, bulky, sluggish, but also great, so great that it was – chilling. I hadn’t seen what was making that subdued, heavy sound, but I instinctively knew it was something which commanded respect and scare. Around us, some were slowly stepping back, and those who did not move took on the freeze of dead wood.

I was startled. In came leaping a boy who danced while holding high the sculpted image of a crocodile endowed with a glorious phallus. That was so unexpected that I went into a loud laughter. Soko looked at me, gaping, while the dancing of the crocodile boy turned wilder and wilder. He threw the saurian figurine high upward. It went like a gimlet, and fell down spinning very, very far, really too far. In the middle of the lake in fact. That did it for my laughter. Here’s what I thought, obviously in five seconds, and without so many words : “if that statue’s gone so high and fell down with such a huge splash in the middle of the lake, then it’s quite heavy ; and if that frail juvenile managed to throw it so far and powerfully, then I’d bet he’s some kind of demon.”

But said juvenile was now running down the cobbled path to the low bank of the lake, and, without thinking, I followed him. Unstoppable impulse. No one thought of holding me back anyway. Then I saw the boy squatting next to some sort of low mound, all green and gray, which, however, lifted its upper part, and whose lower part moved, with that sound, and I recognized a giant lizard, a crocodile who could weigh, oh, easily five tons minimum, and whose mouth opened wide, getting clearly ready to chomp on the careless brat who went and picked his nose. I was rather keen on beholding the horrific event. Well, to put it fair and square: “if he eats him, he won’t eat me!”, that’s what I thought, seeing that I wasn’t far from a strike and my legs had grown cold completely.

Mille et un soleils 1/One Thousand Suns and One 1. Nchoupa

« Comment? Nooon? Vous

connaissez pas Nchoupa? »

Me parlait ainsi un échalas en blanc qui sentait le beurre de karité. On s’était vu au bord du lac. Le lac aux eaux si gonflées et lumineuses que parfois, on avait l’impression qu’il abritait le soleil – que ce que nous voyions dans le haut ciel était le reflet de l’astre aquatique qui nimbait son humide étendue de ces grands chatoiements. L’air était frais et clair, et les voix des garçons, entrelacées aux pépiements d’oiseaux aussi bavards, faisaient une musique joyeuse et rapide comme le ve

nt qui soufflait sur le lac. Et dans ces bruits, j’entendais souvent et toujours « Nchoupa ! » J’avais l’impression que même les oiseaux, en fait, n’arrêtaient pas : « Nchoupa --- chirrr --- Nchoupa --- chirrr… »

« Je vous assure », dis-je à l’échalas, le plus poliment du monde. « Je connais bien du monde dans bien de pays. Mais ce nom, Nchoupa, non, jamais je ne l’ai entendu. A vrai dire, je ne sais même pas ce qui s’appelle ainsi ? Est-ce une personne de sexe mâle, ou

de sexe femelle ? Est-ce une ville, un chien, un caillou ? »

L’échalas se gondola :

« Mais ! Mais les cailloux n’ont pas de nom ! »

Stupéfait par cette affirmation incongrue, je le regardai b

ien en face, et répondis (tout en gardant tout mon calme, comme vous pouvez vous y attendre) :

« Monsieur mon ami. Il y a des choses que je vous conterai bientôt, et vous jugerez par vous-même. En attendant, je vous demande tout simplement de répondre à ma question relative à Nchoupa. On dirait que c’est la divinité de ce lac, et je voudrais, si tel est le cas, lui rendre mes devoirs. Si ce n’est pas le cas, ma curiosité en serait d’autant plus fondée. »

« Oh ! » répondit l’échalas avec un franc sourire. « Je

vous montrerai Nchoupa. C’est encore mieux. »

“What the deuce? Well, okay, no, that I can’t believe, I mean that you don’t know him Nchupa? Nooo!”

There I was, listening to that elongated boy in white clothing who disseminated around him the scent of shea butter. We met on the bank of the lake. The lake with its powerful, glistening waters, which gave out the impression of holding the sun in hidden caves – so much so that what we were seeing high in the sky was in fact only a reflection of the watery star which suffused its humid expanses with immense glitters. The air was cool and clear, and the voices of boys, sprinkled with the songs of babbling birds – as babbling as them boys – was creating a kind of joyful and speedy music, very much akin to the breeze which was sweeping over the lake. And the noise that was thus turned out often and always reverberated with that “Nchupa!” I was under the impression that even the birds, in fact, were ceaselessly chirping “Nchupa --- chirrr--- Nchupa --- chirrr …”

“I assure you”, said I to the elongated lad, and this, most politely, “I know plenty of people in plenty of lands. But that name, Nchupa, it never hit my ears, no. Truth is, I can’t even imagine what bears that name. Is it a person, male or female? Or maybe a town, a dog, a pebble?

Lanky lad was smashed with laughter:

“How do you think a pebble got a name?”

Taken aback by the incongruity of his remark, I looked him right in the eye and retorted (while, as you may well suppose, keeping the utmost self-control):

“Dear my friend. There are things that I will shortly narrate to you, and then you will judge by yourself. Meanwhile, I quite simply ask you to respond to my question about Nchupa. One would think it is the divinity of this lake, and if so, then I would like to perform my duties. But if not, my curiosity is all the more justified.”

“Oh,” Elongated Lad uttered, grinning. “Let me show you Nchupa. That would be best!”

The Wounded Warrior

Apparently, the health condition of Orokie is stabilising, and he is doing drawings again. He just sent me this one, "The Wounded Warrior":



In a hand written note accompanying the drawing, he is saying:

"Bonjour,
Help this wounded warrior to recover sight and health by passing on him sweet and positive vibrations,
Amen"

He has gone to his homeland for a few months to rest and repair his health, and should get surgical operation in December in Europe.

***

La santé d'Orokie semble s'être stabilisée, et il a recommencé à dessiner. Il vient de m'envoyer ce dessin, intitulé "Le guerrier blessé", avec une note disant:

"Bonjour,
Aidez ce guerrier blessé à recouvrer vision et santé en lui passant de douces et positives vibrations,
Amen"

Il est parti recharger ses batteries sur les bords du Lac Victoria, et devrait subir en décembre une opération en Europe.

Repair my spiritual engine:

Hope

When Orokie e-mailed me 3 week ago (see post below ), this is what he sent me :

There is a last piece, yes, unfinished, and now you know why, that I began early this year at trying to make a fine piece that you could show to visitors and family guests. A suitable-for-minors piece, in the likes and style of old illustrations that artist did in exchange of a small metal coin for their Vatican Masters or Kings. As with most of all that stuff, it may show some aggession, call it violence, that I hope would not damage any pure mind brought up in dear Western Culture, where the good always defeats the bad - in school books illustrations at least - Even unfinished, I hope you will enjoy it and put it on any decent wall at your home. Even in one bathroom, why not? We are always to visit that room a few times a day. And properly placed, it may even show out the strength of my A+ on the mirror while you shave.


This is not just coming like this. Saint George, the birthday of Orokie, the Good fighting the Bad.

Orokie was doubting if the good would always defeat the bad...

His friends tried to help his mind getting positive, because "Yes, You Can !!"

Gradually, strength came, and 3 days ago I got :

Thanks, Bonjour. I was dancing pencil for you. Yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Bonjour.jpg !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Na Waoooo !!

Orokie fights again !!

Yesterday morning, he had appointment with his doctors, and here are the latest news :

Ophthalmologist was very happy and accepted my thesis that he shall be strong in his spirit, trust himself as the best Ophthalmologist and start helping his patients and do his job superbly good, also to help me.

Damaged optic nerve goes degenerating badly
but
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
at slower speed than before and
slower speed than Ophthalmologist wrote during last visit.

I am gaining extra time by being positive and strong in my spirit with the help of my friends

Thanks to all

I am fine and positive

Be good
Stay well

So, we all hope that Orokie will soon be OK,

Stay well, be good

Mark / a friend of Orokie

Heart breaking news - Orokie deeply needs help

My name is Marc. Since ten years now, I am a friend of Orokie. 2 weeks ago, I received a mail from him. He told me the worst thing I could have ever imagined.
Orokie is badly needing our urgent help...

Let's first remember what happened :

In april 2006, Orokie went to Kenya to see his mother, who lives on an island of Lake Victoria. At that time, he disappeared, and during one and a half year we had no news from him.

A few days ago, here is how he explained me what happened :

quote

"I went to greet my mama.
It was some years ago, I was in Kenya, and the transport bus was taken by thugs who had booked as passengers, they picked guns from their bags and told the driver to go off the road.
We ended up in a clear in a forest where more armed thugs were ready to get all of the valuables. They even used dogs (Police!) trained to sniff banknotes hidden in socks, mama's bra, underwear... and soon we were all naked.
Some thugs got the ladies aside...
Maybe my attitude was not humble enough so they beated me badly and wounded me with machetes....
Traditional healer first, and later, medical doctors helped me...
I spent many many weeks unable to walk... Some friends made a fund raising after me and I came back to Barcelona where Hospital surgeries and cares made a wonderful work and later I was again able to walk on my own feet.
But from time to time the insides complain and also both the wounds and surgery scars ache in certain days.

Since those days my right eye can not see."

unquote

End of 2007 he re-appeared, and during a few months life seemed to be good with him, till the time, after the elections, troubles arose in Kenya, where is mother, brothers and friends are living.

He was very worried, sent all the money he could get to help his family an friends, then, as always when he feels bad, disappeared again for several months.

At Christmas 2008, he wrote about his deep depression:



quote

"The same as before yesterday. Nothing new. Just me plus papers and ink.

Mind was down down down after last year elections. Something is missing, like hope in the once much trusted politicians and leaders. That is why I keep a little small hope about my future.
Jobs are scarce and wanted by many in this period of economical struggle. Just twice I got the finals but was not elected for the post. Better people got the jobs.

Body is fine.
Physiotherapist did, does and will keep doing a great job all over my body."

When suffering bad breakdown, depressive shyness made me isolated from the outside world. Then, it was hard to make the first step".

unquote

End of February 2009, again, he disappeared.

Two weeks ago, he wrote me a message I would have preferred never to receive:

quote

With me, thanks to the gods of Love, I keep struggling with my faulty physical health, yet alive, and (keep it secret), wonderfully able to produce sperm plenty the minute full moon appears on dark sky in the night.

Faulty physical health. It all is inside.

Some say because after being badly wounded that day by thugs, the good will doctors that were to help me, sadly, when it was quite late, they could not complete their aimed fair job, leaving potencial risks, yes, that now come and gone without previous notice.

Some say even my mind may be confused, never able to persist on the scheduled recovery plan.

Maybe. May be sometimes I have given up.

But now the gods of love call me back into struggle, and I fight my body for a higher level of decent health.

When tears flowed non stop, like waters from snowy mountain, I thought it was my spirit continually thanking you for your beautiful help (thanks merçi).

Tears kept flowing like waters from a snowy mountain, and Ophthalmologist did his plumber job, by clearing the obstructed drainage channels in my eyes by using what it seemed to me a thin peace of copper line from one computer cable.

That day Ophthalmologist went on proceeding with further checkings. He seemed to enjoy very much when he began using all of his Ophthalmological tools and artifacts on me.

Then to afterwards show me a picture on his computer flat screen. Wow! It lloked like a Nasa photograph of mighty Sun. So orange bright.
But it was my left eye.

- See? Optical nerve is very damaged.

- Glaucoma Horribilis?
(My late Baba suffered from Glaucoma Horribilis since early age).

- Not sure.There are not specific clues yet.
He did not mention any high level of inner pressure in that eye...

But on next check, Ophthalmologist confirmed my optical nerve was even worse than before.
He mentioned "sheer forces" as the cause of such a horrible deterioration of the optical nerve.

"Sheer forces". Not bad a theme to wonder about in the dark of the night.

Yet my path is clear. It is just a matter of a few weeks time.

I will be needing very soon either "une canne blanche et un chien formé (European Union), ou un garçon qui me guide de la main (Homeland)" (a white cane and a formed dog (European Union), or a boy who guides me by the hand (homeland)).

I am not able to dance ink on paper anymore.
Well, I have tried, but even me I can not understand, neither clearly see the traces.

It has been hard for me to accept Ophthalmoligist's veredict but I had to submit, after spending my last coins on Barcelona most fantabolous, fashionable and private ophthalmologic clinic.

So that in the end I behaved Western Culture boy using my remaining banknotes in search of hope.
But it showed as those lotteries where plenty of unsuccessful people keep spending their few coins.

Now that I am fine with me, peaceful again and ready to spend my last hours of dim light in whatever good actions I am able to do.

With me it is fine.
The only thing it is now my million shilling coins question: Would me see Victoria Lake Sunset again?

Well, it does not hurt me anymore.
I told you.
I have summited, surrended and am ready to face the neverending darkness of night even, oddly enough, when it is day time.

Cause Sun would warm me the same as before, be it under European Union social care or (my prayers) telling stories under a large tree at homeland, next market, entertaining people and also, as coins would be dropped from time to time in the metal tin by my feet, earning my maize, with the precious sound of solidarity singing loudly in my ears.
Maize that mama would cook for me whith immense love, and also, sometimes, may be adding a piece of fresh proteine from our lake or from her well kept poultry hens.

Please understand.
I had to wait for peaceness of mind before being able to talk to you, cause I wanted to tell in sweet mode, with love from my spirit singing these words."

unquote

Today news are not encouraging, and apparently his optical nerve is not improving.

We cannot abandon such a wonderful man, so brilliant and generous. Please help him.

We have put on-line on his site some drawings for sale, and you can make some donation too.

Please note that since 2008 the former blog's editor is no more in charge of this blog.

We seize this opportunity to thank him for the time he spent, and wish him good luck for his future.