Gambling With God, The Driving Lesson

Abstract

On the flat plains that stretch between Sudan and Ethiopia you can quite clearly see the curve of the earth. At midday the cloudless, piercing blue sky falls like a backdrop behind the earth’s slow curve. Dotted here and there are occasional acacias, far too demure to interrupt the line of the horizon. They’re the only trees surviving in the blasting heat and parching dryness of this empty place. All manner of life rely on them from the tall termite mounds built in their shade to the turquoise blue Abyssinian Roller birds looking out from their top branches. The sable brown sorghum plants, taller than a tall person, are wavering, bearing their heavy heads of round grain with dignity. In some places they’re leaning against each other like drunks trying to avoid collapse. In others, gravity has beaten the shrivelling stems and they have fallen over.