A young boy learning about life in a small mission boarding school in Central Africa; development workers trying to build roads across barren countryside, provide logistical support to a failing state, and assist in relief efforts after the Rwandan genocide; a "Perfect Embassy Wife" struggling to keep her marriage These are some of the characters that inhabit the stories in Nestlings. Author Paul Olson's rich descriptions of expatriate life in the developing world during the second half of the twentieth century will appeal to anyone who has served in the Peace Corps, the Foreign Service, or development work, and to those with an interest in travel and adventure off the beaten track.
All of the stories, but especially the last one, which takes place in Bali and in Goma. Am reminded of eating dinner in that restaurant by the lake in 2010, listening to volunteers and NGO workers talk at nearby tables, and (me) utterly ignorant, even after all these years, of how quickly and utterly everything can collapse.
A treasure of short stories written so well that you move from page to page in excited anticipation of what comes next. The stories are unique and stay with you long after you finish - humorous and sad, uplifting and frustrating all at once. A must read, especially for those living overseas.
In “Nestlings: Stories of Expatriate Life in Africa,” author Paul Olson reflects through the introspective voices of various expats upon experiences that typify their lives in Africa. The voice of a small boy in shorts at a missionary boarding school, a rookie seeking fortune via hazardous duty pay, the wife of a diplomat, a foreign aid worker mid-career, and a fed-up veteran of refugee camps are all in various situations and predicaments intimately familiar to Olson.
Seasoned expats reading these stories will not be shocked by caprice, the bizarre, and insecurity that provide context for Olson’s stories. Common, everyday stuff. Rather, such readers will quickly and clearly recognize their own voice and the voices of their peer expats. Other readers, too, will move on from the bizarre, because these stories are not driven by those elements. Rather, those elements that in other stories may drive plots to pulse-pounding climaxes are in “Nestlings” mirrors to the voices -- metaphors that foretell, reflect, or corroborate. Moreover, Olson gives voice to universal human experience that all readers will easily recognize: tears, joy, exasperation, interpersonal and inner struggles, mortality, and resolution.
The language of Olson’s narrators, each with their own distinct vocabulary, rings so true and easily in our ear that the reader may be deceived into thinking anyone could have told their stories. Olson builds each word studiously and precisely on the one before, each sentence and paragraph leading in their turn until the reader acknowledges that the story has, sadly, already been fully and wholly told without one word wasted nor one wanting. Such economy, such depth of human perception, and such apparent ease and attention away from the author and to the story are among the elusive literary hallmarks that Olson offers in these compelling and intimate reflections.