just back from africa

- shibuya, west exit -



The wilderness, those incredible animals turned them into children again, she said. Lions, elephants, buffaloes. Crocodiles and birds.
But the best thing in Africa for both her and her husband was to be able to enjoy the company of their teenage son and daughter for a whole month. Conversations in their tent about books, about the past, or just playing with words in the night.
Drinking their beer in Shibuya, Worn kept asking her about the nomadic tribe their guide took them to. It was an unofficial, secret trip. The tribe had some temporary tents by a river, but no permanent village. They had very few belongings and were almost naked.
She and her family were completely ignored by the people in the tribe. Communication was done exclusively by the guide. Even when you stood next to someone, even when you touched them, you just didn’t exist. You were in a different dimension. Her family was allowed to join the men for a day’s hunting, but were treated like air by them. Never in her life had she felt so much ignored.
When around midnight Worn parted with her, the out-of-the-way west exit of Inokashira line appeared to be neither deserted nor crowded.