Trafika Europe 11 - Swiss Delights

Trinité bantoue

boycott the f irst of August parade, it ’s that there’s no such service in Bantuland. It no longer exists. Sti l l standing at the window in my room, my face caressed by the soft, cool breeze from Lake Geneva, I think of the rainy season in Bantuland, a complete contrast to the dog days raging here. A rainy season that brings an army of battle-hardened mosquitos, armed to the teeth, ready to bleed you dry. Memories of the mosquitos buzz in my mind. I remember Kosambela who, as a chi ld, told me to watch out for the mosquitos in Bantuland because, according to her, they ’re no ordinary mosquitos. They ’re magic mosquitos, she declared rather gravely. She would tel l me that even bug spray couldn’t ki l l them because they put gas masks on before coming to suck your blood whi le you sleep. Black sheep, I ’d reply, trying to mimic our father ’s authoritarian tone. Kosambela was convinced that the only way to get rid of Bantuland mosquitos was to attack them head on with a hammer or, even better, a rake. When I think of these moments from our chi ldhood, I can’t help but smi le. I call Ruedi. —Well, did you eat something else?, I ask him. —Stuff on the grill. Lots of stuff on the grill. And you? —You know. The same old thing.


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