"No Fixed Abode"

When Alexandra Fuller, an English writer with a life ten times more fascinating than any novel goes back to Zambia, she automatically reverts to the local accent. She embraces both identities. I get her, perfectly. I am half Peruvian half Panamanian, and also carry a British passport to which I am romantically attached. My husband always could tell when I was on the phone with Panama, speaking to one of my 25 cousins or most probably my formidable grandmother, because I would automatically assume the distinct singsong voice typical of the tropics.

Fuller’s family could not embody better the eccentric life of the British adventurer and expat. She spends her childhood in what was then Rhodesia and is now Zimbabwe; war and grief makes them beat the retreat to Malawi and finally Zambia. On the way her parents have 5 children and lose 3 to illness and the tragedy that is always Africa. They equally fight off the guerillas and the black mambas that crawl into their bedrooms; on nightly excursions to the outside “loo” Alexandra and her sister Vanessa carry torches to avoid stepping on scorpions. Her mother “Nicola Fuller of East Africa” and her father “Tim Fuller of No Fixed Abode” are welded together by a fierce and indestructible love; together they face a life of unimaginable sorrow and loss armed with Uzis, whisky and a stiff upper lip. At times Nicola is overcome by alcoholism, at times by mental illness; Tim´s courage and unshakable sense of humor saves what remains of normalcy and a sense of safety. He is also a born optimist. Alexandra inherits their incredible resilience.

She will survive everything.

From a young age Alexandra knew she wanted to write. She submitted nine novels all of which were rejected. There was really one story she a wanted to tell, her own. In six weeks she wrote “Don’t let’s go to the Dogs tonight” which narrates her childhood. It is a luscious and ferocious book. She went on to write her mother’s story which Nicola always refused to name and forever described as “That awful book”. She has written another 2 autobiographies.

Many things, apart from her prose, make Fuller a kindred spirit. She always knew she wanted to write, like me. She has a hard time with fiction, like me; instead writes effortlessly about her life, like me. She identifies with two countries, like me. She lived in the jungle, I did not. But during the years I spent in Panama I always imagined the jungle started at the edge of my grandmother’s garden, maybe with no mambas but definitely some snakes. Today Alexandra lives in the mountains of Wyoming, I have settled in Patagonia, as close as Wyoming as you can get in these parts.

Every time Nicola had to leave in a hurry she would leave everything behind but her cast iron pots, perfect for her curries. My curries are not too shabby and I carry my cast iron pots everywhere.