Listen now | Chris and Nani manage the amazing Kisima Ngeda Camp, on Lake Eyasi, Tanzania. Chris grew up nearby after his German parents moved to Africa on an impulse, and stayed on, while Nani stumbled into this oasis while adventuring through as a penniless, apparently fearless traveler. The story of how they met, fell in love, and built a world will make you feel good about life, people, and chance.
I found this conversation interesting and moving, and am grateful to these two for opening up and sharing their lives. I really appreciate when you speak with real, ordinary people who have done things that seem both deeply familiar and alien, and who’s lifestyle choices differ so markedly and obviously (in some ways) from your own. What a beautiful love story! You have such and easy-going manner and natural curiosity and respect towards people’s experience that conversations seem to veer easily into personal territory, or the unexpected and (of course) tangential.
However (And?), I also deeply appreciate when you engage intellectually with authors and thinkers with provocative ideas, whether or not you personally agree with them, especially in fields where you have some expertise. I would love to hear you in conversation with Franz de Wall about his latest book about gender identity and primates, which I think would be amazing. And I’d likewise love to hear you in conversation with David Wengrow about the recent book he published with the late David Graeber, The Dawn of Everything. Despite some disagreements, I think you two would have a lot of common ground, and in any case it would be a fascinating discussion.
Thanks for your efforts, Chris, and good luck in your travels.
And p.s. here’s one of my favorite poems from William Bronk (originally published in the 1950s), which I thought you also might dig if you don’t already know it.
At Tikal
Mountains they knew, and jungle, the sun, the stars—
these seemed to be there. But even after they slashed
the jungle and burned it and planted the comforting corn,
they were discontent. They wanted the shape of things.
They imagined a world and it was as if it were there
—a world with stars in their places and rain that came
when they called. It closed them in. Stone by stone,
as they built this city, these temples, they built this world.
They believed it. This was the world, and they,
of course, were the people. Now trees make up
assemblies and crowd in the wide plazas. Trees
climb the stupendous steps and rubble them.
In the jungle, the temples are little mountains again.
It is always hard like this, not having a world,
to imagine one, to go to the far edge
apart and imagine, to wall whether in
or out, to build a kind of cage for the sake
of feeling the bars around us, to give shape to a world.
A story of successful monogamy brought to us by the co-author of Sex at Dawn? Inconceivable!!
;)
I love hearing about the Fair Trade stuff. That made me doubt my nihilism for a brief moment.
Technically you on the phone sounded fine. I didn’t notice any difference.
So how are you doing this? Is it two Tulas into a Mac and mixed with which software?
Or record on the Tulas or both? So you recorded three live tracks then mixed and uploaded?
I found this conversation interesting and moving, and am grateful to these two for opening up and sharing their lives. I really appreciate when you speak with real, ordinary people who have done things that seem both deeply familiar and alien, and who’s lifestyle choices differ so markedly and obviously (in some ways) from your own. What a beautiful love story! You have such and easy-going manner and natural curiosity and respect towards people’s experience that conversations seem to veer easily into personal territory, or the unexpected and (of course) tangential.
However (And?), I also deeply appreciate when you engage intellectually with authors and thinkers with provocative ideas, whether or not you personally agree with them, especially in fields where you have some expertise. I would love to hear you in conversation with Franz de Wall about his latest book about gender identity and primates, which I think would be amazing. And I’d likewise love to hear you in conversation with David Wengrow about the recent book he published with the late David Graeber, The Dawn of Everything. Despite some disagreements, I think you two would have a lot of common ground, and in any case it would be a fascinating discussion.
Thanks for your efforts, Chris, and good luck in your travels.
And p.s. here’s one of my favorite poems from William Bronk (originally published in the 1950s), which I thought you also might dig if you don’t already know it.
At Tikal
Mountains they knew, and jungle, the sun, the stars—
these seemed to be there. But even after they slashed
the jungle and burned it and planted the comforting corn,
they were discontent. They wanted the shape of things.
They imagined a world and it was as if it were there
—a world with stars in their places and rain that came
when they called. It closed them in. Stone by stone,
as they built this city, these temples, they built this world.
They believed it. This was the world, and they,
of course, were the people. Now trees make up
assemblies and crowd in the wide plazas. Trees
climb the stupendous steps and rubble them.
In the jungle, the temples are little mountains again.
It is always hard like this, not having a world,
to imagine one, to go to the far edge
apart and imagine, to wall whether in
or out, to build a kind of cage for the sake
of feeling the bars around us, to give shape to a world.
And oh, it is always a world and not the world.
William Bronk