Congo Kitabu [antikvár]

1I WAS A "BLEU"How people keep correcting us when we are young! There's always some bad habit or another they tell us we ought to get over. Yet most bad habits are tools to help us through life.-johann wolfgang von goethe"Can you be ready to leave within a month?" said the round-faced little man, his pen poised. He didn't bother to look up, and his bored monotone remained unchanged."Of course. Can't you make it any sooner?" I said, a trifle sharply.Now he looked at mewith a frown. "We don't do things that way here at the Ministry of Colonies. One month is the very minimum time we need. If you knew how many papers I have to fill out every time I send a recruit from Brussels to the Congo, you might understand.""I do understand, to judge from the stack of forms I've filled out myself. I'll be glad when I get to Africa and escape from all these papers."He smiled cynically and shook his head. "How old are you? Twenty-two, was it?""Twenty-one.""You're just a 'bleu,' Monsieur Hallet, a very raw recruit.1 Wherever you work in the Congo, you'll find that you never escape from printed forms and paperwork. As for right now, I would advise you to calm down and read this." He handed me a little book with Notions Elémentaires d'Hygiene Tropicale printed on its cover. As I leafed through it words1 American novices (and Germans) are generally referred to as "green." We Belgians and French prefer to be "blue." De gustibus et coloribus non est disputandum.