Sundays can be leisurely.  I start out a bit later and then spend my days on the beach, first waiting for then following baboons.  After a failed follow attempt with BA troop, the group ascending into the park where I’m not allowed to go on my own, I decide to go try my luck with AC troop.  As I trudge, the sun starting to get hot, I pass one young man giving another young man a facial.  I don’t know why, but it takes awhile for this to strike me as odd.  The first young man is sitting on a rock, his friend on the ground between his knees, arms resting on the rock-sitter’s thighs.  The rock-sitter is then deeply focused on massaging soap onto his friend’s face (all over, mind you, so they couldn’t have been shaving).  They are both smiling.  I greet them in Swahili.  They both answer and the rock-sitter says, “Hello,” in English.  We then carry on a brief Swanglish conversation in which they ask if I work there, and if they can walk with me wherever I am going.  I tell them I am working and can’t really talk while I work.  We part ways after exchanging names (rock-sitter is Mario (I think) and his friend is Toby).

Later, in the midst of following Massive Headwound Maat (whose wound isn’t really and better…or better smelling), Mario and Toby appear, calling, “Miss Adrian?  Miss Adrian?”  At first, I pretend not to be there.  But the monkeys give me away.  When they approach me this time, I again explain that I am working and they say, “Okay,” and Mario hands me a banana.  Perplexed and wondering what sorts of strings will be attached to said banana, I thank him and they leave.  I then resume following Maat, who is now sitting forlornly in a clump of grasp, snatching at the flies that hover around him.  From my angle, it is difficult to see his face owing to some branches and so I  kneel down.  Then Hayat appears.  I don’t have many opinions about Hayat yet.  He seems like a nice enough male – not too abusive, a slow walker – and he has a beautiful long tail.  Hayat walks right up to me and instead of passing me, as I expect, he just sort of stands there, looking at me.  This has never happened before.  Ever.  For the most part our baboons ignore us, chalking us up to scenery mostly, unless we startle them.  A little nervous, I stand up slowly and look away, remembering all those lessons about no eye contact.  I glance back at him.  He’s still just standing there, staring at me.  And then I look at my hand and realize I’m holding a banana.

I am standing in the middle of a troop of monkeys and I am holding a banana.

And Hayat wants my banana.  Through some deft slight of hand, I manage to hide said banana behind my back and then in my shirt and then carry on as if nothing has changed.  Maat walks.  I follow.  And Hayat follows me.  He is unconvinced that the banana has just “disappeared.”  I only have a few more minutes of my follow, so I decide to ignore him and finish up with Massive Headwound Maat.  And Hayat follows me.  He’s acting just like Sufi the other day when he sauntered after Asayuti and Maryo.  He pretends he’s not really following me, but he also spends a lot of time staring at me.  Just like Asayuti, I have something he wants and he intends politely to trail me until an opportunity arises to take it.  As soon as my follow is over, I book it home, glancing over my shoulder every few steps.

In front of the guest house, I remove the banana from my shirt.  It’s sort of dented but I’m actually kind of excited to eat it.  I start to walk home.  There are a few baboons out and about – DC troop, the troop that hangs out in camp – so I cup the banana in my left hand and against my arm, like a concealed knife, and tuck it against my body as I pass a few of them on my right.  I feel very clever.  I feel sneaky.  And then a huge male comes shooting out of a tree on the left, velociraptor-style, launching himself to the ground from 10 feet up and he’s looking right at me and he doesn’t seem shy and he doesn’t seem willing to wait and he’s only a few feet from me and he’s moving fast and before I even know what I’m doing my hand is arcing and chucking the banana in front of me.  He pounces on it and begins chomping merrily.  I walk away quickly.

And I still somehow think Mario and Toby are going to expect something, some how, some way, for their banana gift, for the bruised banana a monkey coerced from my sweaty little hand.

Sigh.