Chenapou is a place without seconds or minutes, a place
without appointments or deadlines. In Chenapou each day on the calendar is
identical to the one before it- a question mark, a dawn bringing along any
piece of work that happens to crop up, any trip that comes to mind.
The seasons pass and silently dictate the patterns of
cutting, burning, planting and reaping out at the farms. The rains come and go,
playing with the river, trying to catch the people out, but they’re always
ready to go, when the time is right for fishing. Around them, the forest creeps
up, wrapping itself around the village, but they’re always ready to cut it back
and defend their land. When food runs short, they’re always ready to bake cassava
bread and boil fresh buckets of cassiri. When they need a little money, they’re
always ready to head into the mines and find some gold or diamond. And when
everything is just fine, when food is plentiful, crafts are finished and farms
are growing… they are ready to do absolutely nothing. Once their work is done,
the days can drift by casually and contentedly.
Life in Chenapou has a purpose- survival.
I am now back in a world of distractions. I am back in a
world where survival is no longer the goal, and we have to make up artificial
aims in life, create problems for ourselves where there were none to begin
with. Here, excess is more of a problem than shortage, and choosing what to do
is more of a challenge than finding something to do.
Every second of our lives, if we are not working or asleep,
we must be occupied somehow, watching this, listening to that, browsing those
or chatting to them. There is no down-time, no empty space.
We are so busy being productive, but what are we producing? It
all seems ridiculous to me now, the things we find to worry about and fill our
time with, simply because surviving is far too easy a target. But I know this
is my world, I couldn’t escape it forever.
After feeling the nip of a cold Scottish breeze on my face,
closing the front door and finding myself back at home, it almost seemed like I
had never left. Chenapou felt very, very far away.
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