Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts

Sunday, 15 June 2014

The Rain Bull - a Traditional Tale, adapted.



Once upon a curly tail, there was a beautiful fawn maiden.



While everyone admired her looks, her real worth lay in her heart, that was bigger than she was by far. If someone needed a courageous companion, it was to her that they came. She had a very good friend, a dusky lady from a distant land, that approached her in the very heart of winter.



"Will you help me, dear fawn maiden? I seem to have lost my herd of cattle" the dusky lady asked. "The day is short, and I have a lot of veld to search."

The fawn maiden knows that for the dusky lady and her people, cattle are incredibly important. They are their wealth, and they center their lives around them. They build their doghouses in circles, surrounding the kraal where the cattle are kept, both to protect them from the outside world and to mark their significance to their way of life.

"Of course I will help you search. Two noses are always better than one!"

To find the cattle, they divided the world into four parts. The sky, tall and blue, the desert, warm and unforgiving, the veld, with flowing waves of grass, and the koppies, where the spirits dwelt.

It was the dry season, so they set off, starting their search in the plains. The tall grass there offers good grazing, even in the driest of winters. It is a favourite place for the cattle, and a familiar one too. Dusky lady often brings them here to graze. They ran hard, and covered a lot of ground, but they did not find the cattle anywhere!



They had to search elsewhere. The blue sky had no clouds behind which the cattle could be hiding. The desert shimmered with heat. The sand was so hot that their paws burned when they tried to go there.

"Surely this would burn your cattle's hooves too?" asked the fawn maiden.

The dusky lady agreed, but this left them with no other option. They would have to search the koppies. There is little by way of foothold for cattle there, and even less to graze. It is a dangerous place to go to. It is all too easy to get lost between the tall boulders that jut out of the ground, jagged and weather worn. Leopard hides there, his spotted coat making it all too easy for him to disappear completely. By far the worst, though, was the spirits. They hid in the shadows, and would gladly tease you into stepping clear off a cliff. They whispered witchcraft from behind, turning you around and around, making it impossible to ever get out.



"Why would my cattle come here?" wondered the dusky maiden out loud. More of a mystery was why the cattle left her care in the first place. She was a tenacious herder and an efficient protector. Her white, flashing teeth led them swiftly to the sweetest grass and the coolest water, and kept anything unwelcome well at bay. In return, the cattle gave blood and milk for food and dung for building floors and huts. Since her people were very clever, they used these gifts wisely, and the cattle never felt exploited.




"Careful, dusky lady! The rocks are loose here!" warned the fawn maiden. Indeed, they nearly stumbled. The dusky lady was ready to turn back, and she saw her uncertainty reflected back at her in the fawn maiden's eyes. Her keen nose had picked up their scent, though, and fawn maiden had spotted a trail, so further into the koppies they went.



It was a difficult path. Fawn maiden nearly vanished into the shadows, but the spirits could not hold on to her silken fur.



The boulders were large, and very uneven. The scent of the cattle was sometimes clear, but sometimes, they had to sniff long and hard to pick it up again.



They walked along rocky ridges, in the deep shadow, where a cold, dry wind blew. They did not give up.



They climbed over tricky rocky outcroppings which were hard on their paws. They did not give up.



They made their way up steep hills even though they were getting tired.



They made their way down steep hills, knowing that they would have to come this way again to return home.



They did not give up. They could not give up.

"My cattle is everything to me! They are my life, and the life of my people. But I am tired, fawn maiden, and I am afraid. I feel leopard's eyes on me everywhere we step" said the dusky lady. The fawn maiden suggested they rest for a time, stood over her to give her some shade. "I am no bigger than you are, my dusky lady, but together we have many teeth, and many paws. We need not fear the leopard while we are two".



Soon the dusky lady's courage had returned, and they kept going. Still the koppies tested their endurance. Finally, they crested the second tallest koppie in the whole world.



The fawn maiden was startled by the dusky lady's piercing bark.
"Finally!" she barked.
"Finally!" a bright and clear sound.
"Look, my fawn maiden, look, there on the ridge of the tallest koppie!"



The fawn maiden looked, with all her might, and finally saw them, like rocks clinging to the hillside.

They were too late, though. The cattle were being led by an immense bull, that dusky lady had never seen before, straight into the sunset. One by one they stepped off the koppie into the sky, walking along the sunbeams into the light.

"My cattle!" the dusky lady wailed.

The fawn maiden wanted to comfort her friend, but knew there was little she could do.
"Let us make camp here" she suggested. It is too dark to risk these koppies, and perhaps, in the morning, we can climb the tallest koppie ourselves and see what happened.

They curled up seperately but near each other, neither very comfortable on the hard rock.

The morning found them poorly rested, tired, and downtrodden.

"We should return to my kraal" suggested the dusky lady. "I must tell my people".

"I will come with you" said the fawn maiden. "I can confirm your tale, and tell them you did everything in your power."



Sighing, they set off. They did not go two steps before the dusky lady's keen nose picked up an unmistakable scent.

"Rain! I smell it as clearly as a veldmouse!" she said.
"That's all we need. Wet fur"

They looked up to the sky together as deep rainclouds gathered overhead. It was going to be a big storm, and it was too sudden for them to take shelter.

The water poured out of the sky like heaven's floodgates had been fully opened.

They did not get wet, though. In stead, the water changed as it hit the ground, gathering and collecting until nothing other than the missing cattle stood before them!



A small white calf, young enough that it had not yet forgotten how to speak, approached the dogs.
"We were called by the rain bull, the great spirit of the sky! He needed our strong backs to push the sun further up into the sky. If the sun does not rise higher, the water will never come from the sky. It will never rain again, and will always be winter.
He wanted to keep us, but he saw how you did not give up coming to get us. He sees that you are a good keeper, and will care for us well"

The dusky maiden was well pleased with the explanation, as her cattle would need the rain to refresh the grass in springtime.
Joyfully, they herded them home. From then on, year after year, the dusky lady and her people would, in the very heart of winter, call on the dusky lady to take her cattle into the hills, over the rocks, through the shadows and up the very tallest koppie to the rain bull. She would never give up, and the cattle would always come home.

They lived happily ever after.

Tuesday, 18 June 2013

The boarding line at an airport

At every line at every gate at every airport I've ever waited to board at, you get the same characters over and over. While I'd like to not even be noticed, like most of the nice passengers are, I think I may be "that strange lady that watches everyone". I'm not bitter or angry, but I do get annoyed. In the line there, I can't say much, or do anything - it's not fair to add to the share of irritations that are part and parcel of flying. But, without dwelling too much on that, let's move on to the people I was watching:

1. The sports team
Always more than three of them, but less than twenty, the sports team is usually wearing matching jackets with their names on them. They are also standing in precisely that spot where everyone must walk past, talking loudly about their exploits, sometimes athletic, usually sexual. Offhand comments about how they saw grown men behaving like children combined with lewd descriptions of their wild parties, with a smattering of insulting one of their own, usually the only one with a remaining clean shirt, completes the recipe. C'mon, bru! Paris was f@#$ing awesome. What was that thing called - that tower thing? With the lights? That was sweet!


2. The Duty-Free shopper
Only one item of hand luggage? Ha! This person has spent every last cent of their worldly funds (it seems) on duty free items. Eight bottles of perfume, four cologne. Five watches, and ten or twelve bottles of assorted liquor. Don't forget the half dozen extra-large Toblerones. Also, their on board bag is pushing the limits of decency, and they aren't a petite person either. Oh, and the kicker? You end up sharing their overhead compartment on board. Would I mind keeping my bag by my feet so they can put their stuff up top and out of the way? I mean, it's not like I'm 6 feet tall and need that tiny bit of leg room they give you, is it?


3. The American
With sincerest apologies to my American friends (who I am quite sure are part of the masses of folk that draw no attention to themselves), many Americans make horrible tourists and travelers. We're all standing in the queue. The queue that starts about ten meters and fifty people behind where I am, I'm half way to the front. The American and their offspring goes straight to the front of the line, like that's exactly what you're supposed to do. The friendly airline lady points out that the queue starts back there. American nods, says yes, that does seem to be the end of the queue, and doesn't move. Er, what on earth does the American think the lady was trying to do? Has she perhaps never seen the end of a queue in her life, and is so pleased that she must point out this object of curiosity? After three more reminders, and a couple more attempts of the American to just slip into the queue at the front, a male compatriot of hers tells them to go to the back of the line. As they walk past me, the child asks what I assume to be the parent why they're going to the back of the line. The American answers: "because that man told us to go there". I would have thought the reason is because you need to wait your fair turn. Oh well.

4. The reader
I'm all in favour of reading. Actually, I love reading, and am nearly always busy with some book or another. I have sympathies with wanting to read a nice book, and get lost in a fantasy world when your reality is a dreary queue and a looming ten hour confinement to a tiny chair with no space and strangers half on your lap. Truly, I do. But believe me, you can't, absolutely can't, be lost in a fantasy world and function in a  queue. I don't care what you think you're doing, in reality, you drag behind, bump into people (or cause close calls in that regard), forget your bag, lose your place, fumble with your ticket, and generally are a little bit in the way. You are also unable to respond timeously to wild little children or to sudden emergencies (or, more practically, to announcements saying who should do what). If we could just all join you chasing dragons in the novel you're reading that would be grand, but since we can't, would you mind joining us in our dreary queue for the 30 minutes or so it takes? It will make it much easier on everyone to not have to gently guide you along. Because they do. Even if you don't know it.


5. The Dirty German
Again I must apologise before I start. But Germans, amongst you there are young persons, often with very professionally made dreadlocks and loose fitting (yet extremely expensive) hemp clothing. These oddballs (?) have forgotten one very small detail in their quest to save the world by escaping their privileged, middle class existence using airplanes to Africa. That is, that even in Africa, people bathe. You stink. Surely the little bit of deodorant you could have worn to avoid the cloud of body odour you sport will do less harm to the world than the airplane you're about to travel in? For that matter, it probably does less harm than the methane you yourself is producing. I have sat behind you once, and it truly made me airsick. To quote a brand you likely despise because of their exploitation of cheap labour (because all hemp is, of course, farmed responsibly by cheery middle class folks with good health care and a tertiary education); "just do it."


6. The worrier.
You have my sympathies. I know how anxious one gets before a flight. But yes, this is gate 28, Air Imaginary Flight 440. Yes, we are boarding in an hour. Yes, this one does go to Johannesburg. It's ok, I'll repeat all that information for you. So will the airline clerk. As will the ten other people you've asked. We may even be patient and polite. Truthfully, we're all nervous, and you're making us worse too. Why not go see that doctor of yours before hand, and get a little something something to help you? For your own sake - it can't be fun being truly terrified of being in the wrong place, but mostly, that little something is for the people who share a cabin section with you. There will be turbulence, and desperately yelling: "the plane is going down, I knew it, we're all going to die!" is not what you want to hear while doing your own best to just ride it out.

7. The smoker
You do not have my sympathies. You need to quit, because you are addicted, and that makes you a burden on others. Not just in the vague "you will use more than your fair share of the general government medical facilities and other communally funded things" way, in the literal, I'm sitting next to you and you're starting to shake, getting rather aggressive and the poor flight attendant is desperately asking for a nicotine patch for you  (yes, they did find the nicotine patch). I've seen you hit a flight attendant when you were asked to please sit down. I've seen you twitch and shake. You need help. Especially when you're trying to smoke in the queue to get on to the plane!

I'm sure there are other stereotypes, but I've had one (or more) of these in pretty much every boarding queue I've ever been in. And truthfully, I feel better having written it out :)