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.
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