Chapter Fifteen The Sea

Chapter 15

Coming out of the woods onto a vast expanses of bare rock, gently slanting down into the sea, was an inspiration.  Some  experiences are filled with significance, as symbols of hope and deliverance.  I recall one such moment after an early morning summit climb at home, on a brilliant still blue day.  Mist, like smoke, filling the valley.  It spoke to me of the awesome nature of the world, always ready to take the ordinary and turn it into something unexpected.  Today, all the struggles and exhaustion of the past year were left behind.  It was like being washed clean, as we walked out from the dark woods into the light of the infinite sea and sky.  There was the new fresh smell, a slight chill in the light breeze, and the sense of the vast beauty of the ambivalent ocean.   It stood before us, completely neutral to our fate.  It might provide us with salvation, or equally blot out our existence in an instant.

We were all transfixed, gazing out to a shared point on the horizon, forgetting to draw breath.  Then Roti broke the spell by saying she was hungry.  We echoed the sentiment. The last days had been a struggle, with more time spent finding fresh water and scavenging for edible foods that actually filled the stomach than moving forward. There is so much you can take of bitter herbs, which begin to taste like grass.  Yewdis shared this thought by lowing like a cow as he ate, but without a single complaint.  I remembered the last time I was down by the sea on expedition, how we had caught vast quantities of fish.  The sea now looked a mystery to me, quite impregnable.  Suddenly I felt helpless, and vulnerable again. It had been good to be of use in the forest.

Roti pointed out the small village, perched precariously over the licking tongues of waves.  We thought we would chance our luck. We had no choice.  Together as a huddle, we made our way across the rocky expanse.   It was like a vast sheet of ice, with deep fissure, like cravases, cut through the smooth pavement.  We notice the villagers had constructed a path towards where they lived, with wooden, or sometimes stone bridges crossing the deep chasms.  Not a person was in sight, but as we came close, we could see fires and the signs of activity. A dog came out growling.  With some effort, I managed to use all my skills to quieten his snares enough for my petrified family to proceed.  They hid behind me as if my meagre frame could offer any protection.  As we walked between the building, we felt an uncomfortable sense of many eyes all about us.  The strong sense of hostility was tangible.  Suddenly a massive ferocious man appeared from a high building and bellowed in a language none of us could locate something that needed no translation.  He held a threatening weapon.  We cowered, and Honya began to whimper in terror.  I instinctively called out in my mind for strength, and courage for us all.  Other people appeared all around us, all similarly threatening, all with weapons.  An axe whizzed through the air and clattered on the rock behind us.  The first warning shot.  I held out my hand, and felt a hand come out towards me and grip me tightly. But there was no hand there for me to hold.  Baralard and Roti where on their knees. I stretched out and caught hold of my brother and two sisters.  Then I heard a different voice.  This was a softer voice.  I heard someone exclaiming and pointing at us.  She then slowly came forward towards me, examining me with great curiosity.  She lifted up my long hair, and turned my head sideways, like an exhibit.  My jagged ear was being displayed to the whole community.  Next she did the same to Yewdis, and Honya.  Then Roti stood up and pushed aside her hair too, the whole village went quiet. Baralard, something I had not noticed before, too had the mark.  Then like the breaking of the sun's rays over the mountain top, the atmosphere of the villagers completely changed.  They rush forward enmass towards us, touching us, hugging us and holding us.  We were pulled and pushed into their large communal space and plied with a warm sweet drink, Baralard thought it was made from honey.  And then food came out, large, truly fresh fish, lightly cooked in what I thought must have been duck fat.  This was delectable, and we were quite overcome by their complete change of heart.  And still we had not a spoken word between us.  Roti however was skilled in the art of international sign language.  She had dealt with sailors from all corners of the globe.  As the day turned into evening, the villages continued their celebration of our arrival into their community, as if we were deities.  They set us up for the night to sleep in the communal room, but on soft down filled sacks.  I have never before slept on a bed of gossamer feathers. It was extraordinary, like sleeping in the clouds.  This was certainly a wonderful deliverance, for life out here without friends would be hard to imagine.

In the morning the villages allowed us lazy heads to sleep, while they had been about their business for hours.  Three men came along the path from the woods carrying firewood and fruit.  The whole village, both young and old, crowded round as the large sack of small wizened apples were tipped out into the wooden floor of the communal building.  The villages crowded round as we stretched our sore and stiff limbs.  They would not eat until their guests had chosen first.  They chose the largest for us when we showed no sign of movement.  There were plenty to go round, and though they were especially bitter, so much so that the rest of my family suppressed comic faces, and only indulged in the odd one, to me it was a familiar flavour of by childhood, and meant far more to me than breakfast.