Arnon Grunberg - Tirza

'Dat is a good hotel. Really something for Mr.'

Heinitzburg. It sounds like the name of a village forty kilometers across the border in Zevenaar.

'Heinitzburg,' reiterates ship's steward.

'Are you German?'

Jefried starts the vehicle.

'I? No, Dutch.'

'but they speak German there? Where you come from? Huh?'

'They speak Dutch there.'

'but you speak German?'

'I have studied German. And criminology. The last study never killed. I was offered a job on a publishing company, an offer which I could not refuse to do so. It was in line with expectations that i would be publisher.'

Jefried seem not to listen to them. It travels fast. He turn the radio on.

If he is the first houses of Wind Angle, asks: 'You accept ship's steward also euros?'

Jefried looks at him through his mirror. 'prefer not to sir, but there are banks, we can stop.'

'Atms?'

Jefried nods. 'It is a modern country, Mr. We have everything. In addition to work. There is not enough work. Everything here is further.'

In a street which gives the impression to be the main street of an abandoned village, they stop at a gas station. Small Wind Angle is called the here, has a ship's steward on a board. Small, say that to.

Jefried points to him an ATM.

Tirza's father is there.

There are only blacks on street. Perhaps it is the district, perhaps the hour of the day. The few whites who he sees, sit in cars. While his Post Bank Card in the machine stops, he looks again at the blue Mercedes of Jefried.

Jefried can now pulling away. With Hofmeesters stuff. It is not much but it would still be annoying.

Despite the fact that there is little value vols in his luggage, the idea that benauwt Jefried there with his suitcase fleeing. A color handling remains a color handling. Whereas for the machine status, he tries the car unobtrusively into the holes, which he observes that a three to oblige the petrol pump aanstaart him.

He presses the hat more firmly on his head.

Here if he would withdraw money, he just has no idea what the rate is of the Namibian dollars. Against his habit in he has badly prepared on this journey. Say: not. He decides to thousand Namibian dollars, that will be enough for Jefried.

From the petrol station are within a 5 minute walk to the Heinitzburghotel, that a castle on top of a hill.

If the vehicle is parked Jefried, two young men on the Mercedes. They mantle Hofmeesters on luggage. They also want to his briefcase from his hands, but that he will not allow it.

'How much I owe you?" requires a ship's steward to Jefried.

'Four hundred, sir.'

He gives Jefried four hundred and fifty. And Jefried says: 'If you need me, Mr. I drive safely. That you have seen. Where you want to go. Walvis Bay, Swakopmund. Or beyond. To the north. I know the country. If you need me. Call me.' Jefried gives a business card ship's steward.

The business card of someone else. Eight out Jefried has his name and telephone number written.

Ship's steward runs up the hill, he follow the signs to the 'receptie'. The ticket in his pocket.

Also shoot the by him: What if they did not have a room for me? But then they will need a taxi to call him if he should go somewhere else. It does not matter. He is there, that is what it is all about.

The reception looks neat and clean. A scale apples, a rack postcards. A man in a white shirt would welcome him and asks a ship's steward under what name he booked.

'I have not reserved,' he says, 'I am sorry, it came there are not more of. It was all quite unexpectedly. Do you have a room for two, three nights?'

'For how long exactly? Two or three?'

'three nights. It depends.'

There is no prompt which. The man begins in a large book to browse.

On twenty meters away are the two guys at Hofmeesters suitcase. They look at him. They are waiting.

'you are lucky,' says the receptionist. 'We have a room free. A beautiful, spacious room.'

'Fine' says ship's steward. And then: 'Dank you.' as if it is a privilege granted.

Ship's steward picks up an apple and bites. He has dried out.

'If you want to enroll here?'

A guestbook is laid down for him. He fills everything neatly in, where he lives, passport number, only where he will be that he does not know. He lets the but open.

'I will show you your room,' says the man.

The room is really nice. Even in European terms, and that are the only concepts that ship's steward know. A four-poster bed, a bath, a rose next to the sink. Africa. For a ship's steward in any case. Until now.

The two boys come together to him his suitcase. He gives both their money.

Then he only. He sits down on a chair. This is Windhoek, Namibia. Here they wanted, and his daughter, here they had to its world travel. Well, world tour, Africa Travel. She has read a lot about, she has seen some photos. She is committed, Ibi is also commit. As his children. They learn the quick AF.

He puts his briefcase and the hat on the bed. Are Required he hangs in the cabinet. Skirt and trousers he throws have a chair. Pants and socks he makes in the bathroom.

For a viewing mirror himself. It is best for a man of his age. The abdomen, the sheet. The decay.

Then he under the shower.

The water does it correctly it gives him energy. He let the minutes walk over in without having to move in this direction. Without thinking.

Then he pulls a light trousers and a shirt with short sleeves. From its required he retrieves the envelope with the photo and his telephone. He wants to leave the room, but consider themselves and picks up the briefcase and the hat of the bed.

As he walks to the reception.

'Can I here somewhere a little food?' he asks.

The receptionist takes him to the other side of the building where a terrace with views of the city.

There is also no one.

It installs itself. The envelope and its telephone he explains on the table. The briefcase and hat on a chair.

A girl asks him not particularly friendly what he wants to drink.

'I would also like to eat,' he says.

He puts his telephone and slide the photo from the envelope. Lively eyes, it is true. That is the way it is. They are so terrible vivid, which eyes. This is odd that nobody sees that they such beautiful lips and cheekbones, beautiful cheekbones.

After a short examination of the lunch menu he chooses for kipkebab. This will provide little can go wrong, kipkebab.

'And drinks?'

He looks like in the menu.

'Mangosap.'

'Mangosap and kipkebab.' She writes it is not.

'And run but a glass of white wine.'

'In place of the mangosap?'

'No, together. With the mangosap. At the same time.'

He has range, he sees. After a slight hesitation he calls the wife, but it does not record. 'I arrived,' he speaks of 'I am in Windhoek. It looks good here. I am speaking you later.'

From his briefcase he retrieves the manuscript and pencils. He rummages in the bag and finds that he has forgotten sharpener. One of these days he will need to purchase a sharpener.

If the drink is charged, he sees how the girl look to the photo that is on the table.

My daughter,' says ship's steward with a friendly smile, 'my youngest daughter. Tirza.'

"How?'

'Tirza.'

He must spell the name. It seems to be a strange name in these parts.

'It is here in Windhoek,' he says, 'it is here on holiday. Maybe you have ever seen her.'

It is not a question and there is therefore no reply.

The mangosap eagerly he drinks and then the wine.

In the distance he sees a building. The highest of the city, apparently. There is 'Kalahari Sands'. He tail are a while. Kalahari Sands.

Now he is here, he should have a plan in mind. But the longer he to the city looks below him is, how army and kaler his thoughts. What he think of it, it is already disastrous for even before he started.