Let me tell you a short story about Devin, and his tragic inheritance. According to his telling, one fateful day while his longtime friend was sitting next to him at his house, having a casual conversation — he suddenly fell over-unconscious. Devin scattered to his neighbor, a medical Doctor, who rushed to his friend’s aid. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived back, it was helpless. Devin’s friend had been dead close to 20 minutes, having succumbed to an aneurysm at which point he left this world almost instantly. In the many months of grieving that followed Devin made frequent visits to his fallen friend’s aging parents in Nairobi. On one of these visits, they mentioned their ownership of an island in Lake Victoria, their interest in which the passage of time had succeeded in removing. It became their wish, therefore, that Devin should have the said island. That is how Devin came to own Banda Island Resort.
Devin is a scrawny, sunburned Afro-Indian, with a scruffy beard that is well on its way to taking on a full grey hue. By appearance, he is the poster child for hipster culture, where dental care is a distant priority. He exudes a hang-loose sensibility where colorful tees, worn-out beach shorts, and Levi jeans rule all.
He moves about with a perpetual glint in his eye; a cheerful smile; quick-witted with a story for every occasion- from the scribble on one’s t-shirt to scraps from eavesdropped conversations. Devin demonstrates a pure relish for the miracle of existence.
In speech and form, Devin seems to be the owner of the stark perspective about the transience of life, possibly reinforced in some way by the sudden demise of a friend. As a result, this has absolved him of all pretentiousness that many of us are sometimes guilty of.
Banda Island is the home of mild disorders and misnomers. A safari tent is a submerged has-been, ceded back to marine life. His wide-eyed staff — who may put to shame the cluelessness of a deer in headlights — are on brand, serving warmth over competence.
But you see, therein lies its charm. That’s the unvarnished reality of stepping outside the concrete jungle and into the great outdoors. Here, uncertainty is not an insult but a way of life. Fussing is a liability. Instead, total unconditional submission will get you there.
Somewhere on the trail, at the highest point where one can see neighboring islands A fishing boat parked during sketchy weather Birds in significant numbers hover above the fishing village almost constantly
The trail on this petite island snakes through lush green, assorted trees, and shrubs that have grown undisturbed for a long time. Cobwebs, many of them meters long, engulf entire tree branches and sequester lake flies, presumably for the spiders’ nutrition.
The small fishing village on the other side of the resort has all the cliches; tin-roofed houses; goats, cows, and a pool table for the uppity youths — plus a local cinema (with a reception) that exists to transmit the outside world to this remote outpost.
On the cold rainy morning of the hike; Fishing boats bob on the choppy waterfront, awaiting favorable weather to make way for the risk of the daily catch.
Perhaps more than I have seen them anywhere else — diverse flocks of birds have made Banda Island their home. They swoop slightly overhead, I imagine, as they fashion their kamikaze fishing expeditions.
It was disappointing however, to see the volume of plastic that had accumulated around the fishing village and on the lake shores- a sad reminder of the destruction that the natural environment is subjected to by our inability to co-exist sustainably.
Nonetheless, it was still a pleasurable walk to the village and even more enthralling was the hikers’ secret fantasy of getting lost along the beaten path, being realized— followed by the exciting resort to having to bush-whack one’s way back to camp.
At camp, the usual thrills were in abundance: War stories from extinct romances, Volleyball with 6 footers; Birthday celebrations, late-night dives into the lake; and rife speculation on the impending crocodile invasion.
Finally, the experience over the weekend caused me to reflect on the Japanese principle of Wabi-Sabi: which is the art of finding beauty in imperfections. This concept encourages us to appreciate that nothing is truly perfect or permanent of imperfection.
I think that to Try, even feebly or imperfectly — is to triumph. On that score, I disagree with Yoda who instructs us to “Do or Do Not- There is no Try”. So then — I am grateful to Doreen, who tried to cook, serve, and entertain; to Pamela and Cheem- for trying to give us a memorable experience; to Devin — for trying to wrestle with the solemn responsibility of making this tragic inheritance work; to all the slayers — for trying always to heed the call of the great outdoors — the only known location of the face of God.
As you head into the work week, here is quote/prayer for you:
“The day returns and brings us the petty round of irritating concerns and duties. Help us to play the man, help us to play the man, help us to perform them with laughter and kind faces. Let cheerfulness abound with industry. Give us to go blithely on our business all this day, bring us to our resting beds weary and content and undishonoured, and grant us in the end, the gift of sleep” — Robert Louis Stevenson ( From ‘A Book of Simple Living’ — Ruskin Bond)
And of course, a Poem:
When I am Among the Trees — Mary Oliver
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
Keep Climbing.
[Follow Mt. Slayers Uganda on: Facebook: Mountain Slayers Uganda , Twitter: @MtSlayersUg and Instagram: mtslayersuganda]
Here is a Sunday playlist and another one.
[Note: I look forward to seeing all you magnificent overgrown kids in Moyo on November 1–3 , to slay Mt Nyeri. This trip is designed to revive the inner child whom you so far suppressed unnecessarily.]
Kiwanuka Okot MJ
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