Article: Tukkikat. (essay)

I can only remember one time in my life when the sun had as much power over me as it did in Senegal. I was four. We were sitting on our porch in Decatur, Indiana, my sister, myself, two neighbor kids, and my dad. It was Sunday. My father had brought a cardboard box out of the garage and placed it in the middle of our front yard. With his pocket knife he had punched holes in the box. Then he leaned it on a baseball bat so that it faced the sun. He explained to us with his two fists circling around each other, calling one the sun and the other the moon, that one could get in front of the other and make it disappear. This was called an eclipse. And we believed him.

That ...

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