“The Unexpected Home” A Short Story Inspired by Sangananu House, Usa River, Tanzania

Careful not to make a sound, he stole away into the night, leaving behind the city he once loved. From the shadows he could just faintly see the stars far beyond the fog bank that coalesced with the street lamps creating an eerie, yellow glow. The whole place had turned into a nightmare, but he would soon be on his way to a land where the red sun shone; the edge of the world… a new beginning. He just had to make it to the platform before the whistle blew. A week before, he had sent his family ahead of him where they would reunite and hopefully find fortune far away from Frankfurt.

Clara knew when it was finished that her life would start over. Her Mother and Brother seemed almost impatient for the onset, yet she dreaded the day when it would happen. Change was a foreign concept that brought with it emotions of nervousness and loathing. Though as much as she tried, there was no stopping the inevitable.

“Honey are you ready? It’s time to go, come on,” chided her mother.

“Sis, we’re going on an airplane! An airplane! Can you believe it?!”

She found herself being lifted from England, soaring across the Mediterranean, and over the vast vibrant landscape of Africa to a town known as Arusha. Back in 1916 Germany surrendered their power to Britain who took over Tanganyika (the land that Tanzania is today) and now 20 years later, still rules the area. She didn’t have any recollection of what her thoughts were when she stepped off the plane. All she could remember was her Father’s hug—quick and perfunctory—it was the kind of hug that only Captain Murray gave, but she had never known a time when Father wasn’t that. They drove in silence on the bumpy dirt road, over boulders, ruts and gulleys, leading up to the foot of Mount Meru where her new house eagerly awaited the family’s arrival. When they rounded the last corner it wasn’t the house she saw; it was the figure of a sharply dressed man.

Just an hour before, he had walked one last time around the 400 acres of property, inspecting every inch and detail, going through the huge house and lastly the garden. He was a designer of precision. In search of a new perspective, the talented architect had suddenly, momentarily extracted himself to reorganize his life. For the past years he had been living on his own self-built coffee and fruit plantation near the base of Kilimanjaro with his family who had came prior to his leaving Frankfurt. He wouldn’t say that he was miserable, he just found it hard—or maybe it was that he wasn’t able—to get along with the locals and appreciate and enjoy their culture. That isn’t to say that he would be better off back in Germany, where Nazis would attack his Jewish family background and where his buildings were labeled as ‘primitive’, ‘un-german’, and ‘bolshevik’. Here, in the African bush, he was able to think about life and everything else in peaceful harmony. And while working on his plantation, he also did extra projects here and there. It was, after all, one of the only things that brought him joy and so when Captain Murray sent for him specifically to design the whole layout of his 400-acre compound, he was over the moon with ecstasy. He was filled with renewed vigor.

Captain Murray, Clara, her Mother, and Brother stepped out of the car just as the well dressed man began to stride over to where they were standing. Her Father took his hand and introduced him as Ernst May.
“Here’s the architect. This is the gentleman who single-handedly designed the house and how everything should be arranged. Mr. May, I would like you to meet my wife and kids.”

Clara shook his hand and gave him a friendly, if weak, smile. She could see in his eyes that he had a story to tell and he in hers, that she was just starting to see and understand the world as it truly was.

“How do you like it here Mr. May?”

She had spoken her first words in Africa, trying desperately not to cry out for help.

With a slight smile, he stated simply, “For the first time I am able not only to design a small region on paper, but can organically shape everything down to the smallest detail: an achievement that is physically demanding, but satisfies me immensely.”

Such a blunt statement done with piercing sincerity caught Clara off guard.

“But you know, I’m home for the first time in a long time. And that makes all the difference.”

It was in that sentence alone that changed her completely. Walking into the house she noticed everything. She was filled with the pungent smell of fresh paint and cut teak.  The house was already furnished and decorated with fossils, bones, instruments of every shape and size, and other strange knickknacks that her Father had accumulated on his many trips abroad. There was so much space and room to do as one pleased. She could see no lack of windows; it was almost all natural light, which gave everything a lovely glow.

Ernst didn’t have any knowledge that he had exponentially helped a young girl’s life. He didn’t know that she would take his words as a sign of strength. She realized that everyone has their own struggles no matter how big or small, what really separates everyone is how people deal with them. She wanted to be that person who took control of her life and looked to the brighter side, because she believed if you always look to the light, then there couldn’t possibly be any room for darkness.

Early in the morning she awoke to the sounds of birds chirping. Through the opened window, a crisp breeze shook the curtains and made the mosquito net dance. It was to be a nice day and a fresh start to a new life. The revelation came early on; swift and hit her hard. She loved every single thing about the house, the land, and its people – and it completely shocked her. There was absolutely no going back, but she was more than ready. Downstairs on the veranda she sat watching the colobus monkeys, half hidden in the trees. Their dark silhouettes, swinging against the snowy peak of Kilimanjaro, mesmerized her as she sipped her morning tea. It was Sunday, February 3, 1937. Tomorrow she would go to school in Arusha, but right now, she candidly and contently looked on as the tips of the trees turned bright green and the workers began the planting of coffee seeds.