Chapter Twenty-Five: Part Two
The people met the first rays of dawn with an explosion of noise, making the amigas jump, despite expecting it. Every Alegrian was whooping and calling over the water, filling the air with sounds like animal calls. From the smallest child to Grandmother, they were all yelling, calling and rejoicing. Kate’s ear started to pick out words. She heard words of thanks, of gratitude, and of remembrance. She heard names coming through as each person there shouted their gratitude and thanks for every other person there. Hearing Rick's name mentioned with hers, she realised they were giving thanks for her and Rick, and wept in recognition of the depth of her acceptance within this family and these amazing people. Kate’s own feelings of gratitude overwhelmed her, and she shouted out her own thanks without inhibition, joining her new family in celebration.
It took nearly fifteen minutes for the energy of their calls to falter. Uncle was at the log drum again, and he started rapping out a broken bass beat. Another man joined him, striking a higher pitched counterpoint beat on the rim of the log. Pedro then joined them, adding to the rhythms a complex series of beats. The combined sounds became almost hypnotic and compelling in their subtle complexities.
Sweeping the girls up in a communal movement, people started dancing. The rhythms felt like they were dealing directly with her soul, and that all she had to do was allow her body to move. Normally self-conscious about dancing unless tipsy, Kate felt herself connected to a wonderful source of freedom and movement as the rhythms pulsed through her body. Looking around, she saw everyone dancing with similar actions.
I’m a puppet, she thought, feeling the drumming take her over as the sounds moved her body and formed shapes with her limbs. Kate experienced a moment of clarity, recognising that the rhythms and movements were another route to a familiar place, similar to her experience of sub-space. The musical drumming danced through them, moving their bodies without the need for control. In her euphoria, Kate felt as if anything she could think about had a solution attached. They danced on as drummers changed on the fly, the rhythms changing form but never faltering.
When the beat changed, Kate had a feeling of almost falling back into her body. The dancers slowed and stopped, many hugging and everyone laughing. As the crowd settled, the first platters of food were carried out. It was a rice dish, combined with what seemed like every possible vegetable product from the land and sea. It was delicately flavoured and delicious.
Most of the people there had fasted in anticipation of the feast and fell upon the food with gusto. Rick leaned over to the amigas and said, ‘This is the best meal to fill up on. Pick here and there after this one, but fill up to well satisfied now. The platters will be smaller after this, with a new course coming out every hour or so.’
Grandmother stood when most of those sitting in the broad semicircle had finished their meal. The people fell silent and leaned in to hear her. With a musical cadence to her speech, she started. ‘In the time before Alegria, we lived far away. Our people cared for the Mother as our ancestors taught us, and She cared for us. Our people were strong and clever…’
Grandmother’s clear voice had a compelling edge to it. Kate listened as Grandmother recited lines of leaders and notables, seemingly stretching back for generations. The people all repeated each of the names as Grandmother said them, listening to their songs and relearning their histories.
Grandmother sat and Maria stood, stamping each foot hard into the ground before she spoke, a look of blazing fire in her eyes. ‘Then came the poison. The gold hunters raped the Mother. They destroyed our jungle. They killed our river and …’
The story of their village’s decimation from pollution and then the drug cartel’s thugs was told. No emotion was held in check, and the people cried out in anger and fear, raging and cowering by turn. Even the amigas found themselves drawn in and participating in Maria’s words. ‘… my father. It was then that Uncle made me his daughter, and Juanita my sister, as well as my cousin by birth.’
When Maria fell silent, Rick leaned across and whispered to the amigas, ‘Jaguar and bear are the people’s names for Dominque and Edison.’ The three amigas nodded and looked back, watching Maria sit down. The silent tension in the crowd was electric.
Uncle stood and stamped each foot down several times in turn, planting himself hard into the earth under his feet. He thrust a spear deep into the ground between his feet in a resolute action of defiance. ‘The jaguar and the bear rose [Dominique and Edison leapt to their feet, roaring like angry beasts] and fought our Mother’s enemies with our people [the people all leapt to their feet and roared].’ Uncle waited until he could be heard again. ‘When our home was threatened, we were one. They maimed our Mother, setting fire to our jungle and poisoning our sacred river. Our Mother was injured and could no longer feed her children…’ The people were howling at the story and stamping their feet.
Grandmother stood and joined him as the crowd stilled, wanting to hear her words. She said, ‘Then the way was made clear. Auntie had a dream and saw the jaguar leading our people to a place where the Mother lives and is strong. The jaguar led us to this place, our home.’
‘ALEGRIA!’ the crowd yelled as one.
Uncle held a dramatic pause before he said, ‘We arrived in our new home on this day; the day when dark and light are equal, when the summer is tired and the winter is rested. Twenty-one years ago on this day, when I was a much younger man, the Mother gave me a large fish on my first cast into the Race that took all of my strength to pull in. We returned it to Her so She knew that we, Her children, would never take more than we need. We made fire for our people, there, under the sunset stone.’ He pointed to the western spire of the island. ‘The Mother is strong and bountiful here. She cares for us and gives us all we need, many times over. Our children grow strong and clever, our old are healthy and wise, and we are home. Here, we care and honour the Mother as She protects and cares for us.’
‘ALEGRIA!’ everyone thundered again.
The drumbeats started again and, in another flurry of dancing and movement, the tensions raised in the telling of the stories were expended. The dancers would randomly shout calls of happiness and names in remembrance. After a little more than a quarter of an hour this time, the dancers slowed and the next round of food came out.
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