An African in Greenland by Tété-Michel Kpomassie
Book Review by Michael Attard
The title of the book An African in Greenland sparked my curiosity. How did he go? When did he visit? What did he do there? And mainly, why did he go? Reading this travel memoir by Tété -Michel Kpomassie answered my questions and more. This is not merely a story of human novelty or idiosyncrasy but an adventure of exploration that took the author from within his life and cultural paradigm and transported him almost literally to the top of the Earth from where emerged a new and liberating life perspective.
Most people hopefully have a sense of where Greenland is on a map and are familiar with the terms “midnight sun” and “endless night.” Many of us are less familiar with the small country Togo, a tropical, sub-Saharan nation on the Gulf of Guinea. Thus, it is the geographical dissimilarity which underlies the premise of what will happen when a man from tropical Africa travels to the Arctic.
The author, born in 1941, spent seven years working his way along the African coast and through parts of Europe. He must have had a charming personality, as he recounts how perfect strangers helped him out immensely, including places to stay for up to a year. It was spring 1965 when he arrived in Greenland at the age of 24. Open hospitality towards strangers is a part of Greenlander culture, so again he had no trouble meeting people who insisted that he stay with them.
His height of 5’ 11” or 1.8 meters impressed the Greenlanders. “It spread terror in the children, astonished the men, and was attractive to the women.” The average height of the indigenous people was 5’ 3” or 1.6 meters. A picture of the Lilliputians surrounding Gulliver came to his mind.
The southern part of the country disappointed him. He did not find the hunter-fisherman living in harmony with nature. In one town there were only two kayaks, which means that there were only two hunters. It seemed to him that most of the time the people were not working but instead living off of government allowances and almost continually drunk. He was not impressed by the promiscuity either. He said, “The idle life … was getting on my nerves.” So, he left for further north.
For those interested in anthropology, there are sections of the book related to the customs and beliefs of the people, and he sometimes compares and contrasts these with his African culture. Descriptions of eating blubber, rabid dog, and raw seal liver with the blood dripping out are not for the faint of heart. Sleeping arrangements were different from his Togo culture. If there was a bed, as many of the family as possible would share the space. The Greenlanders often thought nothing of their naked daughter lying down with the author. In one village, he was surprised to learn that wife-swapping had become codified into the culture. Eventually, he came to see that such a custom offered protection for widows who may lose their husbands to the sea.
There was not much said about the cold, although he certainly experienced it. It seems that what actually has the greatest effect on the people is the approach of the long polar night. In autumn, some people develop a “nervous depression called polar hysteria.” The “oppressively dreary autumn light” can cause people to “alternate from a passive, listless state to an unbridled fury.” One might surmise that the short summer with its long days would be welcome. But instead, people have trouble sleeping, and this creates other problems.
Throughout his 16 months in Greenland, he met and stayed with many people. He often paints a disturbingly unflattering account, but I think he portrays the characters objectively as opposed to through the cultural lenses of others. When writing of the barren landscape, it is an easy and enjoyable read, as he depicts the intrinsic beauty. In one chapter, he vividly recounts the first time he saw the aurora borealis. “I saw long white streaks whirling in the wind … It was like the radiance of some invisible hearth … a deep folded phosphorescent curtain which moved and shimmered.”
Further north, he found the Greenland that he was searching for, and he tells us the story of his first long journey by dog sled. He explains the intricacy of harnessing the dogs, how the beasts kept up a steady trot, and how beneath their jaws, “coatings of snow were cemented by saliva and frozen solid on contact with the glacial air.”
At the northernmost point of his travels, he found something that he had been looking for since he arrived in Greenland: a cottage made of turf. It was more than fifty years old and the only one left in this town. It “vaguely reminded him of an African mud-walled hut … he had an irresistible desire to share the life of its occupants.” The owner had heard of his arrival in Greenland and told him, “I’ve been waiting to see you for over a year!” But at first, the owner was reluctant to let him stay. “You’re too tall … you’ll knock out my ceiling with your head.” But stay he did, and by listening to the stories of this old man, he learned more about Greenlander culture than he had anywhere else.
He says, “I came to feel that nothing could stop me spending the rest of my days here.” But after many months, he felt that it was his duty to return to Africa to become a “storyteller.”
As a travel memoir, this is an interesting and easy book to read. There are no brilliant insights or moral lessons that the author wants us to learn. But he shares his story to entertain and, hopefully, pique our interest so that we too will want to explore lesser-traveled roads.
The Reviewer
Michael Attard is a Canadian who has lived in Gwangju since 2004. Though officially retired, he still teaches a few private English classes. He enjoys reading all kinds of books and writes for fun. When the weather is nice, you may find him on a hiking trail.
Main photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash