African Entrepreneurship Record

Chapter 83: Chapter 79 Idle Chat

”You said so much, what’s in it for you? Is it worth speaking well of the Hungarians!” Franz asked curiously.

Often, sincerity is the most moving. Ernst spoke frankly, ”For the immigration to the East African region.”

Franz slowly walked to the desk, lazily lay on the sofa, and said, ”It seems you really value the East African region, but pardon my bluntness, Europe is far more valuable than such a desolate land like Africa. Don’t argue just yet.”

Franz continued, ”I’ve studied places like Africa as well. The French are very close to North Africa. North Africa, as the ancient Roman Mediterranean territory, has a strategic position worthy of attention. The British have control of the Cape Town colony, after all, the Cape of Good Hope is the sea throat to Asia. The most valuable things left in Africa are ivory and gold, which I know are distributed in West Africa. As for East Africa, I’m really not familiar, so I’m curious why you see so much potential in East Africa, Ernst?”

It’s not that Franz is really interested in Africa; he’s just curious why Ernst is wasting such extensive manpower, resources, and finances on developing a land lacking important resources and with a harsh environment.

Ernst asked, ”May I find a place to sit down?”

”Of course, please feel free, Ernst, no need to be reserved here,” Franz said.

Ernst found a chair, moved it in front of Franz, and sat down.

”Speaking of East Africa! Your Majesty, do you believe in the existence of divine beings?” Ernst asked in return.

As a Catholic, Franz answered without hesitation, ”Of course, I believe in the existence of the Lord!”

What Ernst said was obviously not the Christian God. As someone from the former motherland, Ernst was originally a firm atheist, but since this mystical event of transmigration happened to him, Ernst has psychologically started to waver in his beliefs.

Of course, Ernst doesn’t believe in Christianity. In his past life, he wasn’t a Westerner and scoffed at the concept of God. If there truly was a God, he certainly wouldn’t have chosen Ernst as a transmigrator.

Ernst had a vague sense of mission in his heart, and it was this force that drove him to reconnect with Africa, which had links to his past life.

The nature of this force was unclear; was it a feeling, a belief, or an ideal? None could accurately describe it.

”Your Majesty, like a mysterious force akin to religion driving my actions, and I’m happy with it. Hence, many questions have no answers; naturally, it’s just done this way,” Ernst tried hard to explain that feeling but couldn’t describe it.

”The guidance of the Lord?” Franz murmured. As an emperor of the empire, Franz also had this feeling, a desire for Austria’s development, and a wish for the family’s glory to continue, Franz was sure he possessed such a mission. But facing the worsening situation, he always felt powerless, a contradictory feeling.

”Currently, East Africa is indeed a bottomless pit to me. Besides animals and natives, there are no significant resources worth noting. But this region in East Africa, lacking any history and unobserved by others, can satisfy the whimsical ideas in my heart. I feel like a painter, able to add any color I want to this East African canvas, while in Europe, I’m just a mundane little prince! I would be constrained by European rules, unable to fully exhibit my nature...”

Ernst and Franz, one small and one big, talked like old friends. Franz relaxed for once, didn’t keep probing about East Africa.

...

Trieste.

”Today’s crowd is larger than before, and there’s a lot more Serbian accents,” said Jean Degu, a member of Heixinggen’s ocean fleet, to his partner Phil Mo.

”Is East Africa really worth visiting?” Phil Mo asked.

Jean Degu took out a bottle of cheap Italian red wine, took a swig, and said, ”Looks fine to me! Not much difference from European rural areas, just a bit more desolate.”

”The population in Europe, especially within the empire, is still too large. Land is always just so much, and the population has been growing faster in recent years. Someone has to go out and explore.”

Phil Mo sighed, ”Yes, the empire’s population is still growing fast. Just like for our generation, many people have moved from the countryside, decades ago, our fathers still worked in noble estates, and now we’ve come to city factories to work for capitalists.”

”Luckily, you and I have some education, or else we’d still be working in factories or docks doing manual labor, hardly like now where writing something on paper and guiding migrants earns us money!”

”Oh, speaking of factories, do you remember that Flanders from before? Heard from old colleagues in the tavern a few days ago that he suddenly died at work. A sturdy person with good arms and legs ended up collapsing on the machines working non-stop for more than ten hours a day...”

As the two familiar people chatted from East Africa to Europe, comparing rural to urban life,

A young migrant became interested. His name was Crick, a Serbian from a Hungarian village, only 15 years old, out exploring.

Coming from generations of farming families, Crick naturally had no special skills, just some strength. The land at home was left to his elder brother, so Crick could only come out to find work.

Happened to encounter the East African colony recruiting, Crick actually had no plan in mind, but the requirements were simple, and food, lodging were not issues, plus money could be earned, so Crick came along with Heixinggen consortium staff and several unemployed peers from the same village to Trieste.

Crick, being quite active in the village, approached Jean Degu and asked, ”Uncle, have you ever been to East Africa?”

Jean Degu looked at the young lad before him and said, ”Been to two or three ports around East Africa by ship: Dar es Salaam, Tanga, and the newest Mombasa, I’ve visited all.”

”Is East Africa really like how it’s described in the newspapers?” Crick asked.

Jean Degu pondered and said, ”If you’re talking about Africa, most is indeed like that. North Africa is all sand, stretching along the Mediterranean to the Atlantic, occasionally a few oases filled with Arabs. Along the Atlantic coast, is West Africa, the starting point for the slave trade, the legendary place for gold and ivory, but the climate and environment are harsh, hot and humid. Continuing south, you can see white beaches, but also barren land. South Africa has good conditions, controlled by the British. As for East Africa, haven’t heard of special resources, but the ports I visited looked quite fine, though can’t compare with European cities, but better than rural conditions.”

Jean Degu’s words eased a lot of the immigrants’ anxieties. At least it was known that East Africa wasn’t a barren land, and living there should not be worse than village life.