Bristol is terribly quiet and mild-mannered even when he’s laughing. He rears back slightly and lets a small chuckle escape from his mouth and belly. “You will be fine”, he says, still giggling at us. “But for now, I think you’d better go back inside.”
What he meant to say, of course, was “Silly Canadians”.
The three of us were seated around a small patio table at the TEJA Executive Lodge. My travel companion Kim and I had asked John a few questions about our visit to the lodge located in Mansa, a rural town in northern Zambia.
“What’s around here?” we had asked, given that the lodge was gated and fenced and we could not see much outside.
“There…” Bristol said pointing over one wall at a large tented structure, “…There they distribute maize. It’s a food depot. And down the street? It’s a prison.”