Chapter 4: The Next Day
The following morning, Nahwa entered the dome-shape hut and brought Tom a sarong and sandals. "Good morning," said Nahwa as she bowed from the waist with a lovely smile. The palms of her hands crossed her chest in an oriental manner.
"What's so good about it?" he grumbled. "It's too early to get out of bed. How do I get off this rotten island anyway? How far is the next port? You savvy?"
"I understand your concerns," Nahwa said in a pleasant and polite tone of voice. "Your anger and attitude will change in time. After breakfast, we will talk again and most of your questions will be answered. Make yourself as comfortable as you can." She bowed again and left the hut.
Tom cursed under his breath. A monkey began to chatter as it peered through the open window almost mimicking Tom's behavior. "Cut it out," Tom replied, and threw a wood carved basin of water at it. The monkey screeched as it scurried up the nearest tree.
Tom sat on the soft bed and floor matting made of Pandanus leaves and began mentally gathering himself together. A variety of fresh tropical fruits was brought to him for his first meal of the day. It was good, though he had never tasted anything like it before. He ate what looked like mango and tasted like papaya until he could eat no more. Then he decided to see what the island looked like outside the hut.
After getting dressed, he slid open the translucent cloth that partitioned the doorway and stood amazed at what he saw. In front of him at the far side of the open plaza, was an immense Mayan-like step pyramid measuring about 150 feet square at its base. On either side of the plaza stood large stone buildings with walls twenty or more feet high.
On them were strange markings that could be seen, even at this distance. They were similar to the carved and painted pictures that were in his hut. The entire paved open area before him looked like smooth stone that went about one thousand paces in all directions. The periphery was a dense jungle that encircled the village itself.
"What is this place?" he asked dumbfounded to Nahwa, who was working in the garden outside his doorway.
She stood up and said with an outstretched arm, "This is Watomi, the City of Light and Life. It is the home of the Sun God who gives life to everyone."
"That's good," said Tom sarcastically. "Now, when can I leave this place. I want to get out of here as soon as possible."
"We see ships only once or twice a year when they blow off course by a storm," Nahwa said. "The nearest port is many days journey to the North and East by boat. It is dangerous now because of the open sea and the Mandramil warriors who patrol it. You do not have the strength for such a trip yet. We will talk about that another time. Come! My father, Chief Matazi, is expecting us."
With that, she turned and began walking to another structure much larger in size than the others he had seen. Tom, still taken back by what he was seeing and hearing, followed Nahwa. Many questions raced through his mind. "How come she speaks English? Who are these people?" Nothing in his twenty years at sea would even begin to compare for what awaited him next.
Two armed guards stood watch by the door to Chief Matazi's house. They blocked Tom's entrance with crossed spears as Nahwa entered alone. When told to enter, Tom was even more amazed than before. At the end of a corridor, Nahwa led him into a large oval room where there was a massive three-dimensional wall sculpture of the sun.
She bowed her head, knelt, and placed her forehead to the floor, hesitating before rising. The relief, painted in gold with a clear crystal like center, allowed light to enter from the outside. The refracted sunlight magnified itself and turned the room in many colors, just like one would see in a rainbow. Twelve Symbols and other markings were etched on its surface along the outer circumference, but Tom sensed there was more to it than just appearances.
Other figures, drawings and sculptures were placed throughout the room. A multicolored, decorated woven rug of plant material lay on the floor. It also consisted of symbols and pictures, some that he recognized as part of the zodiac. The wooden bamboo floor not covered by the rug had plants or other ornaments covering the barren spots.
Chief Matazi towered over Tom's large body by six inches. His huge frame looked like a hefty ox and when his low pitched, raspy voice became inadequate, he used sign language to talk with Nahwa. His throat had been cut during the fighting with the Mandramils months before. He welcomed Tom to his island and bid him a comfortable stay. Nahwa would assist him in all things as she was the only person who communicated regularly with her father and spoke English. The celebration to the Sun God would begin later in the day. Before the chief had excused himself to prepare for the day's activities, he extended Tom an invitation to the festivities that evening.
Tom and Nahwa exited while the chief went to meditate and pray according to the ancient traditions. The gala festival would begin about noon with prayer, thanksgiving offerings and the rites of purification. Tom paused to look more closely at the drawings, paintings and sculpture that adorned the walls. "What do these symbols and picture writing mean?" He asked Nahwa after leaving the hut. "They make no sense to me."
"The one you ask about is the story of creation," she replied. "It tells of how the Great Spirit created life before humankind existed, and how that same life continues to exist after death."
"You mean to tell me," he suddenly interrupted quite surprised, "that you believe that you live after the body is dead?"
"Yes," she said. "It tells the story of life as it was, is now and will be forever after my people die." "That's gibberish!" he said defensively. "Life after death?" he railed. "Once you die, you rot and smell to high heaven like everyone else. I've never seen anyone ever come back to life once they died. Never! I've never killed a person yet that decided to haunt me," he said with a sneering laugh.
"This is what we believe, Tomas," Nahwa softly replied, "like many other philosophies found in this world. Despite what you choose to believe or not believe, this is part of our way of life. It has meaning for us and provides the hope that nourishes our spirit. It comforts our grief and gives us the strength we need in times of want."
"It cannot be disproved, Tomas," she continued. "Not even by you who sail long distances on the boat of many trees you call ships."
"Some strange force guided you here for an unknown reason. No one can predict tomorrow. We can only accept the challenges as we meet them, and enjoy what we can from life each day. Our philosophy, Tomas, teaches contentment, not violence in any form. The only exception is for defense, and only when we have no other choice but to survive."
"We are children of the light and of the giver of life. We hold sacred truths handed down for thousands of years, from one generation to another. We are the remains of a great civilization that once ruled all the oceans and lands of the known world. I must go now and prepare myself for the celebration."
"The Sun God will return to his throne of power as he always does each three hundred faces of the full moon. Today, Quazachella returns to his place in the sky, to protect and guide his chosen people. My father and I will expect to see you at the festivities tonight."
As she turned to leave, Tom replied, "I'll be there," and went into his hut to rest.
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