Sought permission from Neff Trebor to share a revised version of his story, Lost Tribe of the Tanganyika, posted October 11, 2013. The author states, "I am flattered to have somebody do a variation of one of my stories.
We just have different viewpoints."
Anna Maria Menendez spent the second decade of her life as an aspiring Olympian and student athlete and the next decade submitting to others' wants and needs. She did not make the cut for the Olympics as a high school senior. In college, she had taken the minimum hours each semester to maintain athletic eligibility so she could spend more time practicing in order to be more competitive.
Even though they won the national championship her senior year at Kansas, she was injured and could not recover in time to qualify for the Olympics. It was a crushing blow after working for it for eight years. It was going to take a year with maximum semester hours to get her degree in Social Anthropology.
Then her parents got sick. She resumed her prior minimum hour class load while taking care of them and running the farm. She lived close enough to the city to commute to school and back to the farm to make sure the fences were good, the cattle were being fed and not getting out. During harvest season, she would drive the grain truck as the wheat combine was being filled.
After her parents died, she share cropped the land and was able to get enough income to devote her time and energy to finishing her masters and doctorate. She got a job as assistant curator at the Kaufman Center. Her success in track and school, followed by the hectic schedule of taking care of the farm and her parents meant her love life had been virtually non-existent. She spent quite a bit of time during her post graduate years with a much older professor working on her doctoral thesis and his research projects. Out of panic, social pressure, or resignation she finally gave in to his persistent proposals and married. At the time a quarter century age difference didn't seem to matter too much.
Affection, mutual devotion and fidelity quickly became "dress up night" on at least one Friday night a month. Adam made her wear a full length button front dress that hit the floor even wearing her six in high heeled boots. The front part between her breasts was emerald green matching her eyes and highlighting her red hair. The sides were black making her look even taller. Provocatively fitting her very alluring body like a glove left no doubt Anna was not wearing any lingerie.
He would take her out to dinner at Guinevere's. They would remain late enough for dancing. He made her dance with anybody who asked. She didn't like that either.
After that, it was on to the Emerald Café. They had amphitheater seating. They served drinks and everybody sat on couches. She never cared for the "Seat of Honor" on a large padded sofa recliner in the middle of the room. There was quite a bit of space around it.
There was a number on everybody's entrance ticket. When a wife or girlfriend's number was selected they would sit at the "Honor Seat." The first time Anna's eyes screamed to her husband, "Aren't you going to call this off?" Each Friday selected she would tensely sit there like a lamb awaiting slaughter with her eyes closed as four male participants with the same number came up. She didn't have to look as they unbuttoned her dress so she didn't. Once the four men were around her, the others were free to come up to watch.
Her voyeuristic husband forcing her to publicly submit to extramarital sexual encounters with strangers seemed to be endless and intolerable. Hopelessly trapped into a perverted sham of a marriage Anna clung to the hope that their age disparity meant Adam would not likely be alive too much longer. Although Anna stopped complaining and struggling when monthly "dress up nights" became every other week, her internal sobbing did not stop until she had an epiphany.
Adam's fetishes forced her to be a cheating wife. Nonconsensual sex eliminated ingrained guilt. Adam was guilty and therefore Anna was not a slut. This logical rationale provided an epiphany converting unwanted "dress up nights" into tolerable, gratifying encounters. Willingly adjusting the "Honor Seat" put her body level with the crotches of the four male strangers with her same number. Without hesitation she invitingly spread her legs and each hand began stroking proudly produced cocks while her mouth opened to swirl her tongue around the remaining phallic knob. Uninhibitedly arousing and satisfying four rotating strangers for more than an hour every other Friday night turned Anna into a multiple orgasmic hot wife.
The unexpected arrival of a substantial funding grant in support of her doctoral thesis on Tanganyika was the chance of a lifetime. Anna could hardly contain herself. As a Social Anthropologist, this is the moment in her life she had been waiting for. She had put off her life for so many others, but not any longer. If she had young children she wouldn't have been able to accept this grant. Her husband was due for a one-semester sabbatical, and she would be able to get away from work for that much time.
Anna had spent lots of time on the internet, and from previous trips she had also known that Bujumbura grew from a small village after it became a military post in German East Africa in 1889. After World War I it was made the administrative center of the Belgian League of Nations mandate of Ruanda-Urundi. The name was changed from Usumbura to Bujumbura when Burundi became independent in 1962. Since independence, Bujumbura has been the scene of frequent fighting between the country's two main ethnic groups, with Hutu militias opposing the Tutsi-dominated Burundi army.
While looking up many things on the internet for a number of years she had seen articles on the Tanganyika. During World War II, there had been a lot of fighting in North Africa.
She had read the accounts of Erwin Rommel, Mark Clark and George Patton chasing each other across North Africa. She had talked to relatives of a flight of nurses who had been flown into Libya to help.
One flight had disappeared. It was believed to have been on its way out of Libya. It had taken off at night. Rather than head north to Italy, they had decided to fly to Madagascar.
Over the years, Anna had taken summer vacations to tour some of the areas along the route.
She had heard stories of Japanese soldiers hiding on the small island of Guam for thirty- one years and the Philippine jungle for over forty years not knowing the war was over.
Could it be possible that anybody from this flight had actually survived? There were rumors. There had been accounts from pygmies, from aborigines and a number of tribes with their own languages that were known as "the un-contacted tribes." They had avoided civilization by choice and had often killed people who tried to help. White people who had lived for centuries with certain viruses and germs had made themselves immune to them. These segregated tribes could easily be decimated by the common cold or flu.
Trying to contact them was a tenuous experience for everybody involved. The translations were primitive and many word translations were uncertain. That is why Anna could not verify the stories she had heard.
She was now speculating on a particular area that was in a straight line between Libya and Madagascar; Rwanda, Burundi, and the huge body of water along them called Tanganyika. It was at the foot of a huge mountain range called the Albertine Rift. Anna felt the plane could have gone down from either lack of fuel, or not being able to get over the mountains.
Anna felt they could fly into Spain; hopscotch their way to Saudi Arabia; Madagascar and then on into Burundi. Having already used a local guide a couple of times, he could get a safe boat to go along the shore of Lake Tanganyika. They might get a helicopter to fly along the side of the Rift to see what they might have missed on the last trip.
The flight into Bujumbura had been hectic. They had changed so many time zones after they left Kansas City, they didn't know if they got there before or after they left. In the beginning, her husband Adam had not been that enthusiastic about this project. He was also a social anthropologist and her premises seemed ridiculous. Now, after spending parts of several summers over here, he started to become intrigued with the possibilities.
He also saw opportunities for him to advance his own prestige at the college by publishing the results if they found more.
When they got there, the climate was not nearly as hot as they had anticipated. Although it is on the equator, it is so high, that the altitude balances out the temperature.
Bujumbura has a tropical savanna climate with distinct wet and dry seasons. Its wet season is from October through April, while the dry season covers the remaining five months
While they were there, they spent a couple of days re-familiarizing themselves with the city. The city center is a colonial town with a large market, the national stadium, a large mosque, and the cathedral for the Archdiocese of Bujumbura. Museums in the city include the Burundi Museum of Life and the Burundi Geological Museum. Other nearby attractions include the Rusizi National Park, the Livingstone-Stanley Monument at Mugere (where David Livingstone and Henry Morton Stanley visited 14 days after their first historic meeting at Ujiji in Tanzania), the presidential palace and the source of the southernmost tributary of the Nile, described locally as the source of the Nile. Anna and Adam toured the museums to get rid of their jet lag.
.... There is more of this story ...