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It's nearly pitch dark when I wake up, the room is only lit by the eerie moonlight shining through the half open window. My watch reads 2am. I curse the men shouting outside. They sound upset but it's hard to tell - I don't speak the language. Africans oftens sound more agitated than they really are. Selling tomatoes or offering taxi services may sound more like someone holding up a bank than a friendly local trying to make a living. 'Why can't they ever speak in a civilised manner,' I say prejudicely to Helene, assuming she's awake. Interesting how suddenly "I" am the civilised and "they" are the villains. I never was much of a morning person. 'It's probably nothing,' I say with a guilty look on my face, hidden from Helene by the darkness. 'It's just the way they communicate.' We try to sleep, but the voices don't go away. On the contrary, it sounds as if more people have joined in. Back home this would undoubtfully sound like a brawl, here, it may be someone gossiping over a Sunday cup of tea. 'What on earth is going on,' Helene says. In couple terminology, this means for me to get up and investigate, reporting back ASAP. Standing up in my bed, I slowly lean my head out the window. It's dark but I can see a group of people standing close to the stairs, some ten metres away. I quickly withdraw my head and report back to the boss lying in the opposite bed.
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Terror in the night

Robinbye
2006-01-05 20:57:06

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It's nearly pitch dark when I wake up, the room is only lit by the eerie moonlight shining through the half open window. My watch reads 2am. I curse the men shouting outside. They sound upset but it's hard to tell - I don't speak the language. Africans oftens sound more agitated than they really are. Selling tomatoes or offering taxi services may sound more like someone holding up a bank than a friendly local trying to make a living. 'Why can't they ever speak in a civilised manner,' I say prejudicely to Helene, assuming she's awake. Interesting how suddenly "I" am the civilised and "they" are the villains. I never was much of a morning person. 'It's probably nothing,' I say with a guilty look on my face, hidden from Helene by the darkness. 'It's just the way they communicate.' We try to sleep, but the voices don't go away. On the contrary, it sounds as if more people have joined in. Back home this would undoubtfully sound like a brawl, here, it may be someone gossiping over a Sunday cup of tea. 'What on earth is going on,' Helene says. In couple terminology, this means for me to get up and investigate, reporting back ASAP. Standing up in my bed, I slowly lean my head out the window. It's dark but I can see a group of people standing close to the stairs, some ten metres away. I quickly withdraw my head and report back to the boss lying in the opposite bed.

There are three decks on board. The bottom economy 3rd class deck, the middle 2nd class deck, and the top 1st class deck. On all decks people sleep on the floor or on benches unless you are a rich azungu or white man. If so, you have probably booked one of the four cabins, situated on the middle deck. After flashing your video camera, digital camera, binoculars and expensive sunglasses at every opportunity while enjoying cold Carlsbergs in the bar, beers that each cost the equivalent of a hard day's work on the maize fields ...