peepeedoc part 2
Part 2
PeePeeDoc could not stop vomiting. It felt the world was moving in circles and he was moving in a circle of his own. As the ship swayed, being battered by a mid-summer North Sea storm, he held on for dear life. He was on his way to Kashmir, part of a larger group of German clergy undertaking the arduous journey to spread 'civilisation' amongst the 'natives.' We know about his vomiting from the vomit-smeared letter sent from the bowels of SS Karanja, which set sail on March 5 and travelled around the Cape of Good Hope and arrived at Bombay in June, a record time of 100 days, in time for PeePeeDoc to get his first taste of the Monsoon as soon as he disembarked.
I write PeePeeDoc's story from the first table on the right of the Cafe I love most. It is a place I go to to drown my sorrows, to speak with friends, to have a good cup of coffee, hot chocolate, or anything of my fancy. I imagine a time you, reader, have an opportunity to visit this place. I can show you some digitally mastered copies of the Russo-German Letters which were found in the attic of the Guest. They are written in English. PeePeeDoc wrote on lined paper with an ink pen, always in blue ink. A few letters have mould around the edges and some are smudged (with tears?).
Here is the translation, losses notwithstanding.
Madame D,
My head is swirling. I can't even look straight. Yesterday we left Hamburg. We are one day from Hamburg and I don't think I can continue. But what option do I have? I can't jump into the sea, the coast is too far away. There are no boats heading in the opposite direction. The North Sea is unforgiving. One day they will find oil and drill a hole into the bastard's belly. I hope to live that long. I will keep writing to you. I wish I could write in a diary, but the postal system is non-existent on this ship, and no seagull will fly from here to Volgograd with my letter in its beak. There was a show yesterday on the ship. The seamen dressed up and played a version of Romeo and Juliet. You know there are no women on this ship. It is against policy for any female to set sail. Imagine that we name our ships after women, but women can't be on board! Afterwards, an orchestra came and played a symphony - I say orchestra because my music teacher said when more than 10 instruments are played, it becomes an orchestra. I counted 15, and there was a piano! Can you imagine someone bringing a piano on a ship? On a calm evening, the whole ship can hear the notes. But tonight, with the weather this bad, I think the Captain is calling the festivities off. I write this in sadness. A certain melancholy has enveloped me. I am no longer confident about this journey, even if the Father says we are doing God's work. We Germans know a thing or two about God's work, and it isn't always that Holy.
I can't write anymore. I am dizzy and I will try to grab on to something to hold myself steady.
PeePeeDoc
.......
This letter was among the one hundred that were found in a leather folder titled, 'Seascapes.' These were written during PeePeeDoc's voyage across the Cape. He wrote every day, unfailingly.
Tomorrow, I will write to you about the stop at Mombasa where the ship picked up an interesting passenger.