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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... lights on the ceiling , too pumped up by all the change . We picked at cracks in the wall , exposing hardened mud and flecks of straw . We whispered to each other and flipped our pillows to put the cool side on top . And when we woke at ...
... lights on the ceiling , too pumped up by all the change . We picked at cracks in the wall , exposing hardened mud and flecks of straw . We whispered to each other and flipped our pillows to put the cool side on top . And when we woke at ...
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... light flickering up the walls . " I'll go down with the supply van , " Dad murmured . " If he sees me , he won't feel so far away . " " He's too young , " Mom whispered back . " Maybe , but what else can we do ? They all go to the ...
... light flickering up the walls . " I'll go down with the supply van , " Dad murmured . " If he sees me , he won't feel so far away . " " He's too young , " Mom whispered back . " Maybe , but what else can we do ? They all go to the ...
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... light at midday. Through the leaves of the avocado I could spy into open windows, where the wooden shutters had been thrown open and patients lay on their iron beds—motionless silhouettes waiting to feel better. About fifteen ...
... light at midday. Through the leaves of the avocado I could spy into open windows, where the wooden shutters had been thrown open and patients lay on their iron beds—motionless silhouettes waiting to feel better. About fifteen ...
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... light bulbs. What a wonderful consistent sound—the pumping of that sturdy old generator. It was time itself, moving predictably, not rushed or spastic. It meant a range of calm things. It meant the coming of the night. It meant the ...
... light bulbs. What a wonderful consistent sound—the pumping of that sturdy old generator. It was time itself, moving predictably, not rushed or spastic. It meant a range of calm things. It meant the coming of the night. It meant the ...
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... light of a candle, which was magical in its own way. Maybe we could even escape Mom's grip to race through the flickering house, chasing our giant shadows. If we could just keep her in a good mood, then we might get one last minute of ...
... light of a candle, which was magical in its own way. Maybe we could even escape Mom's grip to race through the flickering house, chasing our giant shadows. If we could just keep her in a good mood, then we might get one last minute 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