Leaving Dowayoland is as protracted an undertaking as getting there. This time, fortunately, I was a mere tourist, not a searcher after knowledge -- as far as my papers were concerned. Nevertheless, a protracted bout of leave-taking was called for, a judicious distribution of largesse, an expressing of thanks. Habits of the bush had to be shed. Habits of the city resumed. As the only English-speaker for miles, I had quite naturally dropped into the habit of talking to myself. Talking to oneself or 'thinking out loud', as I determinedly called it, carries for Dowayos none of the connotations of wild-eyed lunacy that it has in our own culture. It is as normal as singing to oneself, which is something Dowayos do all the time. It is a hard habit to drop. Especially in one who had had to cut his own hair without a mirror and has green, fetid teeth it can be initially disconcerting.

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