The Poisonwood Bible

r, like the Fourth of July. So there we were: night, day, and the Fourth of July, and just for a moment there was a peace treaty.
But things fall apart, of course. With us they always do, sooner or later. We walked into the little town to get something cool to drink, and found a decent place where we could sit outside at a metal table watching the dogs and bicycles and hustle-bustle go by, everybody without exception carrying something on their heads. Except the dogs weren't, of course. We had a few beers and it was pleasant. Leah continued her news report about the all-important boondocks village of our childhood fame, which in my opinion is better off to forget. I was -waiting for the part about what Father died of. But it seemed impolite to push. So I took off my sunglasses and fanned myself with the map ofWest Africa.
Leah counted on her fingers: "Mama Mwanza is still going strong. Mama and Tata Nguza, both. Tata Boanda lost his elder wife but still has Eba. Tata Ndu's son is chief. Not the oldest one, Gbenye