Gathered within the chamber of the
Chajman, the once open hospitality became hushed- still present, but dormant in
reverence to something greater than my arrival. As instructed by Renkou, I took
a place upon one of the guest mats near the edge of the great space. Renkou
proceeded to a place much closer to the center, and quickly enough, many
others, ones Renkou called Chajman, filled in the numerous mats. Each of them
that passed me did so with a quiet poise, and many among them offered brief,
but open smiles. Around me, others gathered upon the mats, and beyond the
boundaries of the chamber, I noticed still more; unlike the more colorfully
garbed occupants closer to the center, many of the onlookers I sat among, as
well as those outside, wore more nondescript clothing.
The chamber, I realized, resembled a great wheel. I thought this not for the shape alone, but the arrangement of the chajman gathered, who, according to their vibrant robes, seated themselves around the center. Any chajman’s garments came in hues matched by those before and behind them, and yet lay at odds with their fellows on either side. Renkou, for one, had found Their place among those dressed in shades of gold and saffron.
And then the elders entered; I knew this by the way they moved and the way the seated chajman watched them rather than their appearance. They gathered upon the mats at the very center of the chamber, and for a short time, a pure silence held the room. Then, the short and stout woman among the inner circle, seated before those garbed in greens and browns, lifted her hands and lowered her head.
“I, Mete-Bèso, VwaChaj-Peyi, come before you in complete integrity to acknowledge your fortitude and give thanks for your support of our people and the foundation you lay for all living things.” Behind her, all of the Chaj-Peyi followed suit with their bodies, their voices taking up a deep hum in the silence that followed her words.
Seated beside Mete-Bèso in the circle, another woman clad in blue performed the same bow. “I, Soutyen-Liy, VwaChaj-Dlo, come before you in complete austerity to acknowledge your wisdom and give thanks for your nourishment of our talents and the nurturing of all creatures.” Behind her, the Chaj-Dlo prostrated themselves, and their voices joined the others.
Beside Soutyen-Liy sat a woman hardly older than I, dressed in feathers and fabric of white and gray. She performed the bow and spoke thus: “I, Flannen-Jantiyès, VwaChaj-Le, come before you in complete freedom to acknowledge your boundlessness and give thanks for the change you bring to our lives and the relief you provide all creatures from hardship.” The Chaj-Le followed suit with their Vwa, and with the others.
A hardened, darkened man to the right of Flannen-Jantiyès then lifted his hands, head lowered. “I, Chofaj-Kontanple, VwaChaj-Soley, come before you in complete devotion to acknowledge your intensity and give thanks for the trials you allow to test us and the space you prepare for rebirth.” The Chaj-Soley added their cries to those of their brethren.
Finally, a caramel toned man, tall and thin and graying, spoke from his position between the VwaChaj-Soley and VwaChaj-Peyi.“I, Rive-Gide, VwaChaj-Nanm, come before you in complete tranquility to acknowledge your unity and give thanks for the fellowship you bring into our lives, and the harmony you protect among all beings.”
Hearing this, I could imagine quite clearly the smile upon Renkou’s face, though I could not see it. Along with the other Chaj-Nanm, They lifted Their voice and lowered Their body. The entire room resonated with the voices of the Chajman, and though I did not quite understand it(or perhaps because I did not), I found myself in awe, bearing a smile of my own. These were the Vwa, the voices. The Chajman, the stewards. I dipped my head in respect.
After the harmonization of voices had held for several heartbeats, a silence returned to the room, and after that had passed, the VwaChaj-Nanm spoke again. “By the grace of the Nanm, we may all visit together. In doing so, we share of ourselves and indulge in good tidings.” As he finished, I could feel rather than see the warming presence that moved about the room, filling it, greeting everyone with a reserved enthusiasm. It stirred my spirit in a gentle way I had never experienced. In the heat of day, it would have held me, and I would feel no burden, nor fatigue. Under a cool night, it would rival a fire in its warmth. I knew this to be the work of Rive-Gide, and knew that I would know such somehow, even had he never spoken.
“It appears that we have among us a special visitor,” he added in a soft voice. I could feel a strange sensation encircling me, a focused concentration of that warmth. He turned his attention to Renkou. “Kè Renkou, tell us of this stranger whom you have brought to us.”
Renkou rose and extended a hand to me. “This is Riyoon. I found her upon the marked stone.”
Mete-Bèso hummed in agreement, a deep and pleasing sound. “Peyi has spoken to me of your unfamiliar steps upon the land, and further blessed us with your arrival. Please, sit with us.”
I rose, hesitant. The eyes of the Chajman fell upon me, and I looked to the center of the chamber where the Vwa waited.
“Courage, Riyoon,” Chofaj-Kontanple commanded. Despite his rough appearance, his voice did not carry that same harshness.
Now, I could feel the warmth again, tugging at me gently. I looked to Rive-Gide, and he smiled. “Yes.”
With the blessing of the Vwa, I approached, careful not to tread upon the chajman as I passed. In the center, a slightly larger mat. At their indication, I settled upon it, encircled by the Vwa.
“You have journeyed quite far to reach us,” Mete-Bèso remarked.
“The winds tell me that such has set you free,” Flannen-Jantiyès smiled. “That your travels have distanced you from bonds that would restrain you.”
“The waters whisper of your talents,” Soutyen-Liy added. “Now that you are unburdened, your precious gifts waiting to realize their true potential.”
“And realize them you shall,” added Chofaj-Kontanple. “For your spirit is strong. Your hardships have proven such. Never falter.”
Not one among them had an unkind word for me; in spite of such welcomings, in spite of their warm faces, new, and yet somehow familiar, almost familial, I found myself skeptical.
“Doubt us if you must,” Rive-Gide added kindly. “But do not disregard the spirits, nor yourself. Trust.”
“We welcome you, stranger, to our home, Sik Nati. Please, stay with us, learn from us in your own time.”
The chamber, I realized, resembled a great wheel. I thought this not for the shape alone, but the arrangement of the chajman gathered, who, according to their vibrant robes, seated themselves around the center. Any chajman’s garments came in hues matched by those before and behind them, and yet lay at odds with their fellows on either side. Renkou, for one, had found Their place among those dressed in shades of gold and saffron.
And then the elders entered; I knew this by the way they moved and the way the seated chajman watched them rather than their appearance. They gathered upon the mats at the very center of the chamber, and for a short time, a pure silence held the room. Then, the short and stout woman among the inner circle, seated before those garbed in greens and browns, lifted her hands and lowered her head.
“I, Mete-Bèso, VwaChaj-Peyi, come before you in complete integrity to acknowledge your fortitude and give thanks for your support of our people and the foundation you lay for all living things.” Behind her, all of the Chaj-Peyi followed suit with their bodies, their voices taking up a deep hum in the silence that followed her words.
Seated beside Mete-Bèso in the circle, another woman clad in blue performed the same bow. “I, Soutyen-Liy, VwaChaj-Dlo, come before you in complete austerity to acknowledge your wisdom and give thanks for your nourishment of our talents and the nurturing of all creatures.” Behind her, the Chaj-Dlo prostrated themselves, and their voices joined the others.
Beside Soutyen-Liy sat a woman hardly older than I, dressed in feathers and fabric of white and gray. She performed the bow and spoke thus: “I, Flannen-Jantiyès, VwaChaj-Le, come before you in complete freedom to acknowledge your boundlessness and give thanks for the change you bring to our lives and the relief you provide all creatures from hardship.” The Chaj-Le followed suit with their Vwa, and with the others.
A hardened, darkened man to the right of Flannen-Jantiyès then lifted his hands, head lowered. “I, Chofaj-Kontanple, VwaChaj-Soley, come before you in complete devotion to acknowledge your intensity and give thanks for the trials you allow to test us and the space you prepare for rebirth.” The Chaj-Soley added their cries to those of their brethren.
Finally, a caramel toned man, tall and thin and graying, spoke from his position between the VwaChaj-Soley and VwaChaj-Peyi.“I, Rive-Gide, VwaChaj-Nanm, come before you in complete tranquility to acknowledge your unity and give thanks for the fellowship you bring into our lives, and the harmony you protect among all beings.”
Hearing this, I could imagine quite clearly the smile upon Renkou’s face, though I could not see it. Along with the other Chaj-Nanm, They lifted Their voice and lowered Their body. The entire room resonated with the voices of the Chajman, and though I did not quite understand it(or perhaps because I did not), I found myself in awe, bearing a smile of my own. These were the Vwa, the voices. The Chajman, the stewards. I dipped my head in respect.
After the harmonization of voices had held for several heartbeats, a silence returned to the room, and after that had passed, the VwaChaj-Nanm spoke again. “By the grace of the Nanm, we may all visit together. In doing so, we share of ourselves and indulge in good tidings.” As he finished, I could feel rather than see the warming presence that moved about the room, filling it, greeting everyone with a reserved enthusiasm. It stirred my spirit in a gentle way I had never experienced. In the heat of day, it would have held me, and I would feel no burden, nor fatigue. Under a cool night, it would rival a fire in its warmth. I knew this to be the work of Rive-Gide, and knew that I would know such somehow, even had he never spoken.
“It appears that we have among us a special visitor,” he added in a soft voice. I could feel a strange sensation encircling me, a focused concentration of that warmth. He turned his attention to Renkou. “Kè Renkou, tell us of this stranger whom you have brought to us.”
Renkou rose and extended a hand to me. “This is Riyoon. I found her upon the marked stone.”
Mete-Bèso hummed in agreement, a deep and pleasing sound. “Peyi has spoken to me of your unfamiliar steps upon the land, and further blessed us with your arrival. Please, sit with us.”
I rose, hesitant. The eyes of the Chajman fell upon me, and I looked to the center of the chamber where the Vwa waited.
“Courage, Riyoon,” Chofaj-Kontanple commanded. Despite his rough appearance, his voice did not carry that same harshness.
Now, I could feel the warmth again, tugging at me gently. I looked to Rive-Gide, and he smiled. “Yes.”
With the blessing of the Vwa, I approached, careful not to tread upon the chajman as I passed. In the center, a slightly larger mat. At their indication, I settled upon it, encircled by the Vwa.
“You have journeyed quite far to reach us,” Mete-Bèso remarked.
“The winds tell me that such has set you free,” Flannen-Jantiyès smiled. “That your travels have distanced you from bonds that would restrain you.”
“The waters whisper of your talents,” Soutyen-Liy added. “Now that you are unburdened, your precious gifts waiting to realize their true potential.”
“And realize them you shall,” added Chofaj-Kontanple. “For your spirit is strong. Your hardships have proven such. Never falter.”
Not one among them had an unkind word for me; in spite of such welcomings, in spite of their warm faces, new, and yet somehow familiar, almost familial, I found myself skeptical.
“Doubt us if you must,” Rive-Gide added kindly. “But do not disregard the spirits, nor yourself. Trust.”
“We welcome you, stranger, to our home, Sik Nati. Please, stay with us, learn from us in your own time.”
The greeting had brought us into the
night. As the sun faded from the horizon, the fires were lit, and a wild drum
beat broke out beyond the chamber.
I glanced to Renkou, and They met my gaze with a knowing smile.
“You are free to go or stay as you please…” Flannen-Jantiyès remarked to me.
“We would prefer that you partake of the blessings we have received,” Mete-Bèso finished.
The Chajman had risen and began to file outside. The clamor of their steps and voices blended well with the drums, matching the energy and the excitement of the music. Though curious, I hesitated at first, unsure of what to expect.
“Come, Riyoon,” Renkou beckoned. “Let us welcome you properly as we celebrate the harvest.”
As I accompanied Renkou outside, I took note of the lit fires that encircled the meeting chamber, and the people that clustered around each flame. Of the nearest, I made out a quintet of dancers strutting about, backed by the rhythm of djembes. They carried handfuls of dried, reeds and moved with a practiced grace. With simple strides and head bobbing, they pumped their arms in and out, and the rustling of their brush added a music of its own. They brought their legs higher and higher as the steps progressed, tossing down one handful of reeds to sweep the other through the air. Then, the parted with this burden as well. They kicked out their legs, first right, then left, bent at the knee, and all the while, they set their arms in wide sweeping arcs. They moved nothing like I did, and yet every motion carried with it a serene grace, swift and purpose-filled. Just watching them, my heart began to race.
Renkou eyed me and gave Their knowing smile. “There is space in the circle,” They said.
“I do not know the steps.”
“Dance as you do. Uplift your spirit in the way that you know how.”
I could feel the now familiar warmth creeping its way up through my body in response to Renkou’s influence. In spite of myself, I smiled, blushed.
I stepped as I knew. I rocked as best I could to the beat, swaying my hips. I lifted my arms and swept them, not in the arcs of the Sik Nati dancers, but as gentle waves kissed by the breeze. I slid my feet across the dirt, a glide rather than the skipping of my partners, who moved as they knew and welcomed me nonetheless.
Each step upon the earth ground my fear into the dirt. Each wave of my hand swept away my apprehension. I danced for myself, with myself, in spite of myself, and they welcomed it; not for themselves, as the men of my village might, but for the recognition of who I was.
“Now there,” They told me, “Is a proper welcome.”
I glanced to Renkou, and They met my gaze with a knowing smile.
“You are free to go or stay as you please…” Flannen-Jantiyès remarked to me.
“We would prefer that you partake of the blessings we have received,” Mete-Bèso finished.
The Chajman had risen and began to file outside. The clamor of their steps and voices blended well with the drums, matching the energy and the excitement of the music. Though curious, I hesitated at first, unsure of what to expect.
“Come, Riyoon,” Renkou beckoned. “Let us welcome you properly as we celebrate the harvest.”
As I accompanied Renkou outside, I took note of the lit fires that encircled the meeting chamber, and the people that clustered around each flame. Of the nearest, I made out a quintet of dancers strutting about, backed by the rhythm of djembes. They carried handfuls of dried, reeds and moved with a practiced grace. With simple strides and head bobbing, they pumped their arms in and out, and the rustling of their brush added a music of its own. They brought their legs higher and higher as the steps progressed, tossing down one handful of reeds to sweep the other through the air. Then, the parted with this burden as well. They kicked out their legs, first right, then left, bent at the knee, and all the while, they set their arms in wide sweeping arcs. They moved nothing like I did, and yet every motion carried with it a serene grace, swift and purpose-filled. Just watching them, my heart began to race.
Renkou eyed me and gave Their knowing smile. “There is space in the circle,” They said.
“I do not know the steps.”
“Dance as you do. Uplift your spirit in the way that you know how.”
I could feel the now familiar warmth creeping its way up through my body in response to Renkou’s influence. In spite of myself, I smiled, blushed.
I stepped as I knew. I rocked as best I could to the beat, swaying my hips. I lifted my arms and swept them, not in the arcs of the Sik Nati dancers, but as gentle waves kissed by the breeze. I slid my feet across the dirt, a glide rather than the skipping of my partners, who moved as they knew and welcomed me nonetheless.
Each step upon the earth ground my fear into the dirt. Each wave of my hand swept away my apprehension. I danced for myself, with myself, in spite of myself, and they welcomed it; not for themselves, as the men of my village might, but for the recognition of who I was.
“Now there,” They told me, “Is a proper welcome.”
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