In an eastern land, far away, up in the mountains, where the clouds sway low over the peaks, the forests dance to the gusts of wind, men dwelt among the bamboo groves in clusters like stars in the night-sky, with an agreement of oneness among them. The spirits of the dead gathered every night near the caves, where no man of the living ever dared to tread, unless he was one who was in-between—like the shaman.
This shaman spoke to the spirits in chants, through songs, dances, sacrifices of animals, offerings of fowls, in a bid to bestow blessings and protection from the enemy and to keep away evil. Everyday, he taught a new song and a dance to those who dwelt among the bamboo groves, and it pleased the spirits greatly. The shaman almost always knew everything and he was held in great regard by the bamboo-dwellers, the naked folk as they were often called—at least they thought he knew everything. Not until the white man came along. The white man arrived from the North wielding a glorious musketry, bringing down all that stood in his path—grass, bushes, trees. The curious naked folk emerged from their dwellings with their gifts of carnelian beads to greet this new stranger. The white man saw them and said, "They are naked! Let's clothe them", and so he did. In no time, one...two, three, four, five, and so on...bamboo-dweller, no longer naked, was taught to speak, write, walk, behave, live. With every passing day, a bamboo-dweller disappeared into oblivion, a song forgotten and a dance left out, while the white man watched, pleased with his work. We all thought that the shaman knew everything, but realizing that he actually did not foresee the arrival of the white man, in a frenzy of sadness the shaman danced and sang near the caves until his last breath. Legend has it that the shaman crossed-over to dwell among the spirits of the dead, but they don't gather near the caves anymore. The gathering is elsewhere and no one knows where.
This shaman spoke to the spirits in chants, through songs, dances, sacrifices of animals, offerings of fowls, in a bid to bestow blessings and protection from the enemy and to keep away evil. Everyday, he taught a new song and a dance to those who dwelt among the bamboo groves, and it pleased the spirits greatly. The shaman almost always knew everything and he was held in great regard by the bamboo-dwellers, the naked folk as they were often called—at least they thought he knew everything. Not until the white man came along. The white man arrived from the North wielding a glorious musketry, bringing down all that stood in his path—grass, bushes, trees. The curious naked folk emerged from their dwellings with their gifts of carnelian beads to greet this new stranger. The white man saw them and said, "They are naked! Let's clothe them", and so he did. In no time, one...two, three, four, five, and so on...bamboo-dweller, no longer naked, was taught to speak, write, walk, behave, live. With every passing day, a bamboo-dweller disappeared into oblivion, a song forgotten and a dance left out, while the white man watched, pleased with his work. We all thought that the shaman knew everything, but realizing that he actually did not foresee the arrival of the white man, in a frenzy of sadness the shaman danced and sang near the caves until his last breath. Legend has it that the shaman crossed-over to dwell among the spirits of the dead, but they don't gather near the caves anymore. The gathering is elsewhere and no one knows where.
Elika Sumi
