MUSE LOG: Ch.030 SABAKU (Movement)    
 Ch.030 SABAKU (Movement)1 comment
picture4 May 2003 @ 20:55, by Quidnovi

Author(s): Koravya
Status: in progress
Message:


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This post is part of Connect the Dots, a Roundtable project.
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Movement as Beginning. As beginning of Life. Having No Idea about Where to Begin. There was this little journey to the place where the road ended. This 25 year old young man, let's call him Yussef for now, didn't hardly speak no words that the people around these parts spoke. This was as far as this bus went, and it turned around and went back. There was a village here, and it was dusk. The folks was curious and hospitable. They gave him a whole bucket of water to wash off all of that grimy dust he had soaked up during his long journey through the hills to get to this remote outpost. Yussef managed to get the idea across that he wanted to cross through the 20 miles of uncharted forest to the beginning of another road he figured should be there because there was a line on his map saying it was there. He and the villagers also figured out that the time to leave would be before dawn, and the vehicle would be a two-wheeled cart pulled by two sturdy bullocks. The villagers shared their evening meal of real Homemade rice and curry, and gave him a rope cot to sleep on outside under the stars and the very full moon. Through the Dawn, through the forest, across the dry sandy river bed, through the rest of the forest with the loin-cloth and turban clad villager to where this young man wanted to go, just because it was a stretch of uncharted territory. There's another village, and the beginning of another road, and there's a bus every day comes up that road and goes back to where it came from. Yussef's got a road he's gotta be moving on down along. Yussef was kind of in a wandering mode, so he rode that bus through the hills on this other side of that dry sandy river bed. There was a tribal village market a ways down that road. Like a big clearing out in the middle of nowhere in the forest where several hundred people had gathered for the weekly market. Some had erected very temporary looking bamboo and thatch shelters or platform like tables, while most just displayed what they had for sale or trade4 on blankets on the ground. The bus was stopping here for a little while and another one would be coming later, so Yussef took some time to walk around. There was a large bamboo and thatch structure over towards one corner of this clearing. Definitely had a quality of permanence about it, nestled as it was between two large old spindly branched trees. There was a knot of people over there, so curious Yussef eased his way in that direction, ever mindful and respectful for any evidence that he might be getting into a space where he should not be. No problem. The group was receptive to his being there. There are no words that they could share, Yussef and the group, but they invited him into the hut where everyone sat in a circle around an empty center. This is a ritual place. The whole thing is very informal and doesn’t last very long. Mostly it seems a small group of three or four headmen talking about whatever it was they needed to be talking about, as through a process of coming to an agreement. Then someone brought in a chicken, and we all went out, and the chicken was decapitated. Then some of the outsiders began to disperse, and those who were most concerned with the business of the hour began to close ranks, so it seemed clear to Yussef that his visit had been fulfilled. He drifted on back through the marketplace, figuring to look around some more, until the next bus came.


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16 May 2003 @ 21:01 by koravya : (May 13)
Yussef was kind of in a wandering mode, so he rode that bus through the hills on this other side of that dry sandy river bed. There was a tribal village market a ways down that road. Like a big clearing out in the middle of nowhere in the forest where several hundred people had gathered for the weekly market. Some had erected very temporary looking bamboo and thatch shelters or platform like tables, while most just displayed what they had for sale or trade4 on blankets on the ground. The bus was stopping here for a little while and another one would be coming later, so Yussef took some time to walk around. There was a large bamboo and thatch structure over towards one corner of this clearing. Definitely had a quality of permanence about it, nestled as it was between two large old spindly branched trees. There was a knot of people over there, so curious Yussef eased his way in that direction, ever mindful and respectful for any evidence that he might be getting into a space where he should not be. No problem. The group was receptive to his being there. There are no words that they could share, Yussef and the group, but they invited him into the hut where everyone sat in a circle around an empty center. This is a ritual place. The whole thing is very informal and doesn’t last very long. Mostly it seems a small group of three or four headmen talking about whatever it was they needed to be talking about, as through a process of coming to an agreement. Then someone brought in a chicken, and we all went out, and the chicken was decapitated. Then some of the outsiders began to disperse, and those who were most concerned with the business of the hour began to close ranks, so it seemed clear to Yussef that his visit had been fulfilled. He drifted on back through the marketplace, figuring to look around some more, until the next bus came.  


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