A/N: Sorry for breaking the pattern here, normally an entry from Jane is supposed to follow, but the story worked out better this way.
Chapter 13: The one where they are shipping
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They leave for Guji ten to seven in the morning. Mist is climbing out of the grassland and herds of baboons get chased out of the corn fields. The road that leads to their destination is such a narrow one that the truck repeatedly grazes the batten fences of the dwellings, which are built along the road just like in Challiya. On more than one occasion Hannes, Bacha and the day laborer that came with them need to get out to take down some thick mango tree branches that would have made the passing of their high load impossible. The atmosphere among the people in the villages seems tense to Jane, much different than around the carpenter school where everyone greets her in a friendly manner or at least marvels at her openly.
The truck drags on, going only three miles per hour, not just because of the heavy school benches and tables, but also because of the engine that desperately needs to be attended, as Hannes explains, and as soon as they have to climb a gradient they are not hitting anything past the three mile mark. Unfortunately, the road to Guji ascends continuously.
At some point, three teenagers start to follow the vehicle, jogging along, knocking against the passenger's door from time to time and call out "money!" or "mobile!" through the open window, as if the travelers were simply in need oof this kind of prompt to throw at least one of those options out of the cab. Even if Jane had brought some Birr or an extra phone, she would find distributing something out of a driving car degrading towards these young men, despite the fact that they probably could use the money; who could not.
At a curve where Hannes has to go back and forth for quite some time in order to spare a fence from being run down, a knot of children gather around the truck as well and, encouraged by the teens, start to throw small clumps of soil against the windshield. While Hannes determinedly keeps working with the turn, Jane wonders whether she has got the right to feel offended, just because the shipping of the school furniture does not get appreciated well enough.
Then a pretty big chunk suddenly sails through the driver's window, passes Hannes, who either was not the target or not in the line of fire by chance, and passes Jane, who ducks as quick as a flash, her skills that she needs at the force and that have come in handy many times before fully intact.
Unfortunately, the mud clump smacks against Bacha's neck, who flinches appalled and then speechlessly examines the scattered pieces of dirt in Jane's and his lap. Impulsive and fueled by anger and shame that Bacha has taken the hit, Jane grabs the sticky soil and heaves it back at the thrower, a maybe 12-year-old boy, who, not because the impact was strong but in surprise, stumbles backwards. His foot catches on a root and he lands on his bottom ungracefully, having the older guys and all the children burst into laughter. Right then Hannes turns the wheel for the last time and they are on their way again.
Jane feels miserable, unsure what to make of the situation and whether she had handled it poorly in every sense. Hannes' and Bacha's wordlessness does not help either.
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They do not reach the goldmine in Guji until late afternoon, for they get stuck in the road on their way there. Even though it had not been raining all day, the final part of the way up the hill where Guji is situated is nothing more than a big puddle and the truck simply too heavy to overcome the soaked ground. They are lucky that the monstrous vehicle does not slide back down the steep either.
Many people came, some bringing shovels, others gathering big stones to put them in front of the wheels so the truck would have some ground to grab at.
Two and a half hours of restless tries and it finally lurches forward, Hannes wordlessly beckons to his fellow co-travelers to quickly jump on the ride and by the time they roll into the miner's camp Jane apprehends that she might never experience the old carpentar in a fit of rage.
Assoon as Hannes' feet touch the ground he is surrounded by Ethiopians who know him or know someone who knows him, they greet him exuberantly and start chatting in afaan Oromo. The benign smile Jane has come to love finds its way back to the corner of his mouth. A couple of minutes later a golf caddy pulls up and four tall, white men push through the crowd and call out to Hannes in loud English that sounds like Texas, London and Melbourne, saying they have been waiting forever for their order and that the visitors should get to a tent where there will be plenty of food. They pat Hannes on the shoulder like old comrades.
"You don't take care of your roads very well", is the first thing Hannes says to them, but the tallest of the guys just replies "Oh?" and guides the carpenter to the big tent. Jane cannot help but find them disturbing. She also cannot keep their names, cannot bring herself to care where they are from and how long they have been here. She only nods at them swiftly, and then follows Hannes, head down, trying not to give away her nationality. Maybe she is lucky and they mistake her for a Swede.
"You don't have wot?" Hannes asks as he lets his eyes sweep over the enormous buffet.
"Ain't got what what?" Maybe-Bob asks addlebrained, before he picks up a chicken wing that disappears almost entirely into his big mouth right after.
"Never mind", Hannes waves him away and Jane wonders if Maybe-Bob really does not realize that the older man is mocking him. An Ethiopian woman, who is dressed as a servant, comes in and brings a tall plate with budena and wot on it, having either heard or expected Hannes' request.
"Oh! You're talking about the Ethiopian pancakes", Maybe-Bob exclaims as if he has any idea.
The small group from Challiya finds a table and hungrily digs into the food that Jane has come accustomed to. It is not that the burgers, the chicken, pasta and pizza do not look delicious, it simply feels like the honest and loyal thing to do. Probably-Gary pulls up a chair next to Jane, sits on it the wrong way and opens up a cold bottle of beer, an American brand. He reeks of sweat and that's when Jane realizes that Hannes never does, even though he slogs away all day, wears his shirts for a week and she has not even seen a shower at his place.
"So, you're a detective from the States?" There goes her plan to stay in the shadows.
"Where'd you hear that?" Jane has the feeling she needs to stay guarded.
"Uh, you know, news travel fast over here. The Ethiopians keep track of all the white guys, I'm afraid. Anyway, gotta stick together out here, ain't that right?"
"Hm", Jane mumbles and tries to seem busy with the food. Sadly, the stranger does not seem put off at all.
"Pretty bolt move to bring a baby here, don't you think? Ever get scared something might happen to him?"
Jane shoots Hannes an alarmed and inquiring look, who gives the slightest shake of his head and all the answers Jane wanted. She turns back to the obnoxious guy and replies sharply, "That's none of your business and nothing I will discuss. Do you mind leaving this table as long as we eat?"
Probably-Gary chuckles and raises the hand that is not holding his beer, waving something that probably is supposed to mean 'alright, no need to get witty', but then he gets up and disappears without another word.
The school is a little further out, the crass descending road not muddy, but crossed by deep grooves. Bacha, the day laborer and Jane have climbed on top of the load, trying to keep the no longer strapped furniture from sliding off. In the end Jane's arms and legs are covered in bruises and contusions.
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As the sun gets low, Hannes brings the truck to a stop and asks Bacha and the day laborer to look after it. He then says "come on" to Jane and waves her into the forest they parked at, which is one of his.
The last sun rays of the day weakly seep through the dense standing conifer and submerge everything into gray and blue colors. The ground is almost free of plant growth and by now Jane has learned that this is also a result of trees standing too close. Soon the carpenter school will be able to extract new timber from here. Not far from the edge of the forest Hannes settles on an old trunk and Jane mimics his action. He pulls a bag of sugar coated peanuts out of his vest and offers her the treats, which besides sugar cane are the only original sweets Jane has seen. And they are good.
"There are many good reasons, why these forests are needed here", Hannes begins, "but sometimes I get the impression I only planted them in order to have a place to go to where it feels like home."
Jane almost does not dare to question Hannes after what he just shared. Almost.
"Why didn't you tell me that all the stuff for the school is financed by the miners in order to bribe the people into giving up their land?"
"It wouldn't have changed anything about the shipment."
"Why not? How can you of all people not stand against something like this? 250 acres land will get floored, regardless of the farmers who live there, or if there are some of the last bits of primeval forest. And there'll be another 250 acres and another, in case they're not happy with the results of their fucking drilling samples. 30 miles next to that you are fighting for the preservation of the woods, trying to teach the people the importance of them, to protect and to value them, to plant a tree for each they take down, since the short rainy season has not come in two years and water gets less and less with every tree that disappears. You taught me that, and yet-" She cannot bring herself to end the tirade Hannes patiently lets wash over him with some final accusation. She has taken this man to her heart, has come to respect him so much.
"I am aware of the ambivalence", the carpenter answers, rubbing a finger through his eyebrows and Jane notices that they look just as worn and alive as every other of Hannes' features. She waits expectantly.
"For years now our project only lives from month to month. What we produce in one, we will need and spend in the following. For the seedlings, the maintenance of the forests, to pay the foresters and the forest guards, for the carpenters and the teachers in our school, for our trainees. We depend on such contracts like the one with the miners, so our circuit stays sustainable. That also means we brush other circuits involuntarily, which sometimes stand against our goals for all intents and purposes."
"Not good enough", Jane mumbles, not wanting to look up from the ground.
"I know."
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The rest of their route is covered in darkness. The road can be taken a lot faster now, leading down for the whole way. The jungle at night is impressive and threatening at the same time. Sheet lightning flicker constantly on the horizon. The sky is starless, draped with enormous clouds. Carefully they once again take the turn where the three young men and the group of children had occupied Jane's thoughts this morning. Her anger over that, however, has passed completely, her pondering and her frustration with the miners taking all the space.
As they reach the valley of the Dilla river, Hannes abruptly shifts into four-wheel drive and steps onto the gas so that the truck shoots forward and Jane's inquiry gets stuck in her throat.
"Hold on!" Hannes demands and a second later the truck breaks through a barricade of rocks that are positioned on the narrow road in equal intervals, blocking their way. Jane has not seen that coming.
The front wheels take off of the ground only to make a hard impact on the dusty road shortly after, the underside of the truck distinguishably grates over stone, an unhealthy creepy noise, before the rear wheels also violently burst against the chunks.