Ginger

The old man raises his voice, raspy at first, unmelodic and as if he weren't quite sure what he had to say yet, faltering and breaking off and trying again. Sometimes it seems as if joy and courage are driving him forward, at other times it seems as if great pain is choking his throat. What he says hesitantly, in a rising and falling singsong, sounds understandable, although I don't understand the language, babbling as if a small child were telling: "It's pidgin English! " says our local guide...