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when he came to, he started the engine and swung the van onto the road. The van
lurched forward at frightening speed; the driver's head rolled loosely on his neck
and slammed down on the dashboard.
Hunching over, he clasped the steering wheel tightly and leaned towards the
windscreen, eyes narrowed. Although the window was clean, he peered out as if
through heavy fog. After a few hundred metres, we turned down a dirt track. The
motor revved violently as the vehicle bounded into the air over a series of potholes.
I hadn't been in a vehicle for weeks, and the speed alone was terrifying. I could
only imagine how the rest of the workers and my bike were being tossed around in
the back.
'Slow down!' I screamed at the wobbling head of the driver. 'The bike is going
to be completely broken if you don't slow down! Do you understand?' I had to re-
peat myself twice before his foot came ever so slightly off the accelerator.
The village consisted of a collection of run-down wooden houses built into the
hillside. Nearby, white concrete buildings lay in decay; they were the remnants of
milking sheds and barns for collective farms. At one time they would have housed
several hundred head of animals. Now they were empty.
At a glance I could tell that it was one of the more dilapidated villages. Many of
the houses were in disrepair, with rotten logs and missing planks. A group of men
stumbled past with bloodshot eyes. The place filled me with dread. I wondered if
anyone was sober.
'Look, just over there we live,' one of the workmen said, pointing to a small
concrete building that stood among a garden choked with weeds and grass. Most
of the windows were broken or missing, and what remained of the white paint was
a scattering of loose flakes. Rusty play equipment cut a stark silhouette against the
grey sky. The building was an abandoned kindergarten.
The men dragged me in, proudly showing off their home. What must have been
the main classroom had been turned into a dorm, the musty air heavy with the
stench of alcohol and rotting produce. On one wall I could just make out the smil-
ing face of a cartoon character.
'Here is our boss. Get to know him,' the men said, thrusting me forward like an
offering to their chief.
A man rose with difficulty from a sunken mattress. He wore a blue singlet and
tracksuit pants, and his eyes were unnaturally wide and vacant. A dark tufted beard
set hard with dried tomato sauce grew around his chin. His bare, pale shoulders
were straight and seemed to be too close together, as if he had been wedged into a
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