Hills of Ruarwe #6

Alex absorbed the connection between the marks I was making and the world they described; and his eyes darted as mine did, over and back from subject to drawing. It wasn’t long before a group of curious children and men gathered to watch. The chatter of voices grew as they closed in a semicircle around us. A small child was gently tugging at my elbow and a man sat on his haunches beside me, booming out a commentary. I was getting tired and struggling with the constant movement of the men sawing. At last I was able to tackle the minute detail of the village; and finally the composition was framed on either side by cassava plants, with their distinct lupin-like leaves, and at the top by the branches of an overhanging mango tree. To draw the leaves of cassava and mango I used a short hand style of drawing, roughly sketching them in, approximating their complex forms.

“You’ve done it,” Alex yelled out. I looked at the drawing and tried to see it as a whole, but I was uncertain, so I let weariness decide and put the pencil down, and relaxed the tension out of my neck and shoulders. Now everybody wanted to inspect the drawing. A wave of chatter, animated with laughter and loud exclamations followed the pad, as it was passed from hand to hand. Dusty fingers traced over the paper and tapped on details of the drawing. It was getting mauled, and I waited impatiently to get it back. It was time to leave, so we said our goodbyes and set off on the long walk back to the Ruarwe. How pleased I was that this time it would be down hill.