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Joined: Oct 2006
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Location: New Zealand
Karma: 0 |  | First History Class
« Thread Started on Feb 16, 2007, 8:34pm » | ![[Quote]](http://s4.images.proboards.com/buttons/quote.gif) |
Mr Shaw was looking at Africa. He looked at the way the coastline turned and dove. He looked at the contrast between the colour of Africa and the colour of the sea. He looked at the different countries and their unstable borders. He looked North. He looked South. He looked East. He looked West. And, while he was looking at Africa, he was visiting it.
He remembered the dustiness, the dryness, the hot glare of the sun mingling with the cold wind as he drove in a jeep. He remembered staying in a treehouse with a bathroom that had no wall so you could look out at the giraffes feasting just by your window. He remembered rituals of African dancing before eating. He remembered the thrill of being in a jeep as it was chased by a lion. He remembered that if you went to the sea it was covered in jellyfish. He remembered the pain of getting stung. He remembered the hot sun beating on his back. He remembered haggling with African traders. He remembered buying wooden carvings because he felt sorry for the man who was ill. He remembered looking at the shanties people made out of rubbish. He remembered the tall gates around people's houses. He remembered having to lock the gate as you ran out to meet the icecream truck. He remembered the Labrador puppies that he saw, and knew that they in turn would have their own adventures from where they were then, that they too would stray. He remembered his last trip, when he had strayed too long and his father had died.
He remembered driving along the coastline that turned and dove. He remembered the contrast between the land and the sea. He remembered trying to cross into other countries with their unstable borders. He remembered North. He remembered South. He remembered East. He remembered West. And, while he was visiting Africa, he was looking at it.
Mr. Shaw was South African and a proud one at that. He hailed from Durban and so spoke with a profound accent. He loved his country but he strayed too far and could never go back. He was stuck because of money, war and sickness. He taught History. He taught that no two wars were the same, and that every side had a story. He taught life.
Right now he was looking at his globe, for as well as teaching History he taught Georgraphy. They were both related, there was no one without the other. He taught with passion and anger, for he knew what the world was coming to if others didn't. He had travelled the world. He knew about life, about death, more than most people would want to.
He was dressed in a black suit, not unlike a CIA agent. His black tie contrasted his white shirt which tucked into a black jacket and pants. His head was shaved, his face was solemn, and he stood like a minister would after a sermon. He never smiled. Mr. Shaw never smiled. To smile would be to enjoy this, to accept what was happening. To accept global warming, extinction, poverty. To accept and have his own story that didn't really matter. To the world only Paris Hilton and Brad Pitt mattered. Only they were rich enough to change the world so they bought thousand dollar lingerie.
Mr. Shaw waited.
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