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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... lifted in a weak salute . He looked smaller than he should have , standing in the middle of the red cinder parking lot . Mom cried . She cried all the way out of Addis Ababa even though she tried to hide it , biting her lower lip and ...
... lifted in a weak salute . He looked smaller than he should have , standing in the middle of the red cinder parking lot . Mom cried . She cried all the way out of Addis Ababa even though she tried to hide it , biting her lower lip and ...
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... lifted their gray beards and were grimacing with yellow fangs . The silent females stared suspiciously , while wide- eyed babies climbed the fur on their bellies . Malcolm , an English missionary with bright blond curls , whispered ...
... lifted their gray beards and were grimacing with yellow fangs . The silent females stared suspiciously , while wide- eyed babies climbed the fur on their bellies . Malcolm , an English missionary with bright blond curls , whispered ...
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... lifted on the cool wind and blown across the treeless pastures: “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, all the days, all the days of my life.” Could the wind carry those words all the way to the edge of the great escarpment above ...
... lifted on the cool wind and blown across the treeless pastures: “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, all the days, all the days of my life.” Could the wind carry those words all the way to the edge of the great escarpment above ...
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... lifted , feeling it clutch at the poinsettia leaf until forced to let go and swim away in the air . Under the loose skin , I could make out tiny muscles moving and tiny parts trying desperately to find a new balance , a new stability ...
... lifted , feeling it clutch at the poinsettia leaf until forced to let go and swim away in the air . Under the loose skin , I could make out tiny muscles moving and tiny parts trying desperately to find a new balance , a new stability ...
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... lifted us back in, to be deliciously warmed. I could hear the distant tremolo of the singing patients over the pumping of the generator, and I sang my own unconscious song—Jesus was a child too, just like me. But God took care of Jesus ...
... lifted us back in, to be deliciously warmed. I could hear the distant tremolo of the singing patients over the pumping of the generator, and I sang my own unconscious song—Jesus was a child too, just like me. But God took care of Jesus ...
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