I have been reading a book called The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach and as the title blatantly suggests, it’s about dead human bodies. In the most recent part of the book I read, it mentions in passing that dead bodies in America are hidden; rarely seen in the public eye thanks to the fast work of emergency agencies. The same applies to corpses of animals. I have seen my fair share of animal corpses, but never a human body outside a coffin ready for burial.

Well.

Yesterday was Monday. Market day. I took a matatu into town and followed routine by going to Uchumi, a supermarket, for a loaf of whole meal bread, the best alternative to all the other stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth white breads here. The walk to the market is relatively short one from the Uchumi and just like any other day, I vary my route to arrive at the market for there are many options in the labyrinthine corridors that cover the downtown area. Yesterday, I decided to take a more crowded route, so to say, to people-watch a bit since school is out and the town revealed its more permanent denizens. Something felt different today though. It an electric feel in the air – the feeling that something major was about to happen, or had just happened. As I was walking, I noticed owners of dukas (shops) curiously gaze at the  amassing crowd at the gas station. It is at the station I must make a right to reach the market and all of its splendors. I too started staring at the mass that circled an unseen entertainer and wondered what sort of con was going on at the moment. (I have seen a man try to sell ordinary pieces of rocks to people claiming that if you rub the black rocks on your forearm, you will become more fertile.) I edged closer in through the crowd to see what all the excitement was about – I saw people laughing and some just staring in amazement. I nudged aside a rather tall woman and there he… or it… was. A man of about 35 years of age was lying on the driveway entrance to the gas station with his eyes open, looking skyward, and open hands as if reaching for something ethereal. His chest was sunken and his right leg was bent. The body looked deceptively small without oxygen and that small weight that is released by the death rattle, which quite possibly may be the weight of oxygen that escaped our blood cells. My first live dead body. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me so I quickly averted my eyes. The crowd I had weaved my way through blocked my path to escape so I was forced to look at the crowd for it was better than looking at the corpse. Some laughing, some amazed, some astonished. My head stared in disbelief at those laughing but rational thoughts trickled in and I believed that they had been desensitized to death as it happens often here. My eyes dragged me back to look at the slumped corpse. I stared for a solid 5 minutes before shaking myself awake and a bit roughly working my way through the crowd to the market.

I read about it. I saw it two days after. Freaky. I made some delicious red bean masala last night and enjoyed it nonetheless.