Chameleon Days: An American Boyhood in Ethiopia“Moves beyond a compelling personal story to shed radiant light on history itself . . . an essential chronicle of midcentury American idealism.” —Patricia Hampl, author of The Art of the Wasted Day In 1964, at the age of three, Tim Bascom is thrust into a world of eucalyptus trees and stampeding baboons when his family moves from the Midwest to Ethiopia. The unflinchingly observant narrator of this memoir reveals his missionary parents’ struggles in a sometimes hostile country. Sent reluctantly to boarding school in the capital, young Tim finds that beyond the gates enclosing that peculiar, isolated world, conflict roils Ethiopian society. When secret riot drills at school are followed with an attack by rampaging students near his parents’ mission station, Tim witnesses the disintegration of his family’s African idyll as Haile Selassie’s empire begins to crumble. Like Alexandra Fuller’s Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight, Chameleon Days chronicles social upheaval through the keen yet naive eyes of a child. Bascom offers readers a fascinating glimpse of missionary life, much as Barbara Kingsolver did in The Poisonwood Bible. “Such precision in voice earned Bascom the Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference Bakeless Prize, and his smartly naïve observations grow more sophisticated as the country succumbs to political unrest in the 1970s and missionary life becomes uncertain. Nostalgic but not overwrought, Bascom’s memoir is accented with casual family snapshots like ribbons on the gift of a gently captured place in time.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review) “Bascom, son of missionaries, illuminates the Ethiopia of his childhood in this Bakeless Prize–winning memoir . . . A stirring tribute to a turbulent, beautifully evoked era.” —Kirkus Reviews |
From inside the book
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... felt so jarring and out of place : the unexpected belch of diesel trucks below our open window , the haze of exhaust fumes floating into the room , and the weird babble of foreign voices drifting to us on the crisp , high - altitude ...
... felt so jarring and out of place : the unexpected belch of diesel trucks below our open window , the haze of exhaust fumes floating into the room , and the weird babble of foreign voices drifting to us on the crisp , high - altitude ...
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... felt terrified in a panicky, helpless The rapidity of the baboons' descent tugged at me—made me feel I must go too. I gripped Dad more tightly and wouldn't let go even after he stepped back from the cliff edge. As our group reassembled ...
... felt terrified in a panicky, helpless The rapidity of the baboons' descent tugged at me—made me feel I must go too. I gripped Dad more tightly and wouldn't let go even after he stepped back from the cliff edge. As our group reassembled ...
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... felt very familiar as I balanced it on my palm, tickled by its two-pronged grip. Everything else was vague and distant, but it was solid and green and wonderfully defined. We were both real, the chameleon and me. And so I knew that we ...
... felt very familiar as I balanced it on my palm, tickled by its two-pronged grip. Everything else was vague and distant, but it was solid and green and wonderfully defined. We were both real, the chameleon and me. And so I knew that we ...
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... kept in a box full of avocado leaves, I felt safest in a dark green refuge. The only Ethiopian I encountered daily was Marta the houseworker, with her hair bound up in a blue turban, firm as a soccer ball , and her face turned round by a.
... kept in a box full of avocado leaves, I felt safest in a dark green refuge. The only Ethiopian I encountered daily was Marta the houseworker, with her hair bound up in a blue turban, firm as a soccer ball , and her face turned round by a.
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... felt at ease around Marta , but away from home I became as cautious as my chameleon . If Mom brought me along to fetch Dad from the hospital , I turned my face into her skirts and froze as soon as we entered the waiting room . Dozens of ...
... felt at ease around Marta , but away from home I became as cautious as my chameleon . If Mom brought me along to fetch Dad from the hospital , I turned my face into her skirts and froze as soon as we entered the waiting room . Dozens of ...
Contents
The Emperors Smile | |
Birth Order | |
Bushwhacking | |
In My Fathers House | |
My Brothers Keeper | |
Blessed Assurance | |
Moon Landing | |
My World Their World | |
Sent Back | |
And Ill Fly Away | |
My Pilgrim Progress | |
Riot Drill | |
Hidden Agendas | |
Pigeon Fever | |
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Common terms and phrases
Addis Ababa African Darter Amharic arms asked Ato Aba Goli Ato Wandaro avocado avocado tree began Bingham Academy Bishoftu boarding school boys brother chameleon Christian church cinders climbed Danny dark didn’t donkey door dorm Emperor Ethiopian eucalyptus eyes feel felt fence ferengi finger flannelgraph front girls grass green Hadiya Haile Selassie hair hall hand head hear Hosanna hospital injera inside Jesus Johnathan kids kitchen knew lake Land Rover laughed legs Leimo lifted looked madoqua Malachite Kingfisher Marie Marta mission missionary Mom and Dad Mount Damoto night older parents patients prayed pulled road seemed Shashamane shoulder shouted side skin sleep smiled Soddo Stan stared station stayed stepped stood stop stream talk Timmy told Tom Swift took turned voice waiting walked wall wanted watched weaverbird whispered window Wolaita yelled yellow