letting the rhizome of a certain tuber ferment in their mouths into a viscid liquor. The process sometimes required three days of chewing. The taste of the wine varied with the smell and composition of the saliva of the person who chewed it. The mellow wine from Rasula’s mouth had been the toast of the island since she was a girl. Mixed with the starch of the tuber, her saliva produced an aroma men found captivating. Instead of making you drunk, it tended to induce the most indescribable palpitations. Some men who had drunk it even claimed that their futures had flashed before their eyes.
After Atile’i had shot his seed, Rasula took out the wine she’d chewed for him and advised him to sip her wine slowly so as to remember her smell, the look in her eyes, the warmth of her nether parts.
But where was Atile’i now?
The men of the island all desired Rasula but none dared make a move on her. Nobody knew who her father was. Her
Yina
(the Wayo Wayoan word for mother) Saliya’s weaving was the best on the island, but, lacking the protection of a husband, Saliya had no way to obtain an allotment of land, and women were not allowed to go to sea. The only way she couldget land, fish and other forms of upkeep was to do public service in the village. Mainly, she wove saltgrass sandals for the islanders. Rasula would often help Saliya pick vines in the woods and collect saltgrass by the shore: the vines were for the sole, the saltgrass for the upper. Saliya’s weaving talents were not limited to sandals; she could also make fishnets, nets that not even the Ima Ima fish, the strongest fish that swam in the waters around the island, could escape. Saliya might well have woven enough nets over the years to cover the entire island.
Men would often take a detour past Saliya’s house after a hard day of fishing and help with repairs around the house, maybe leaving a fish or two, or maybe a sea cucumber or a tasty octopus. It was only after she had her first period that Rasula realized that they were actually there for her mother’s hands, not only for the sandals, the fishnets or out of a desire to tell stories. Rasula had heard their tributes to her mother’s hands:
They revive the dry grass
.
They can calm a fierce squall
.
When Saliya was young she was as beautiful as Rasula, or even more lovely, because Saliya had a pure, Wayo Wayoan beauty.
Saliya
in Wayo Wayoan meant “a spine with a graceful delphine arc.” As a maiden, she could simply sit at the seashore facing away from the village with her hair hanging down her back and it was enough to make the island’s heart break.
Rasula’s favorite activities were watching seagulls bearing the moon aloft and collecting freshly molted crab shells, but now she was like a seabird with wounded wings, gazing at the sea but unable to leave the island. Saliya could totally understand what Rasula was feeling. She quietly regarded her child, suspecting that another little spark of life had appeared within her soul. Being unable to spend a lifetime with the man she loved was the fate of many a Wayo Wayoan woman, but to bear his child was the grace of Kabang. This was because the child might be a boy, and a boy could help them start a new family.
One day when mother and daughter were sitting in the doorway weaving sandals, Rasula suddenly struck up a conversation.
“Yina, why aren’t women allowed to go to sea?”
“This is the rule of the ancestors, the law of nature. Women can only go to the seashore to collect shellfish. But you must never forget that shellfish with spines are not to be touched.”
“Why did they make this rule, and what if one breaks it?”
“Oh, my dear Nana (the Wayo Wayoan word for daughter), you well know that a girl who breaks this rule would turn into a spiny urchin which none would dare approach.”
“Have you actually ever seen someone change into a spiny urchin?”
“There are urchins everywhere.”
“No, Yina, I mean have you ever seen a
After Atile’i had shot his seed, Rasula took out the wine she’d chewed for him and advised him to sip her wine slowly so as to remember her smell, the look in her eyes, the warmth of her nether parts.
But where was Atile’i now?
The men of the island all desired Rasula but none dared make a move on her. Nobody knew who her father was. Her
Yina
(the Wayo Wayoan word for mother) Saliya’s weaving was the best on the island, but, lacking the protection of a husband, Saliya had no way to obtain an allotment of land, and women were not allowed to go to sea. The only way she couldget land, fish and other forms of upkeep was to do public service in the village. Mainly, she wove saltgrass sandals for the islanders. Rasula would often help Saliya pick vines in the woods and collect saltgrass by the shore: the vines were for the sole, the saltgrass for the upper. Saliya’s weaving talents were not limited to sandals; she could also make fishnets, nets that not even the Ima Ima fish, the strongest fish that swam in the waters around the island, could escape. Saliya might well have woven enough nets over the years to cover the entire island.
Men would often take a detour past Saliya’s house after a hard day of fishing and help with repairs around the house, maybe leaving a fish or two, or maybe a sea cucumber or a tasty octopus. It was only after she had her first period that Rasula realized that they were actually there for her mother’s hands, not only for the sandals, the fishnets or out of a desire to tell stories. Rasula had heard their tributes to her mother’s hands:
They revive the dry grass
.
They can calm a fierce squall
.
When Saliya was young she was as beautiful as Rasula, or even more lovely, because Saliya had a pure, Wayo Wayoan beauty.
Saliya
in Wayo Wayoan meant “a spine with a graceful delphine arc.” As a maiden, she could simply sit at the seashore facing away from the village with her hair hanging down her back and it was enough to make the island’s heart break.
Rasula’s favorite activities were watching seagulls bearing the moon aloft and collecting freshly molted crab shells, but now she was like a seabird with wounded wings, gazing at the sea but unable to leave the island. Saliya could totally understand what Rasula was feeling. She quietly regarded her child, suspecting that another little spark of life had appeared within her soul. Being unable to spend a lifetime with the man she loved was the fate of many a Wayo Wayoan woman, but to bear his child was the grace of Kabang. This was because the child might be a boy, and a boy could help them start a new family.
One day when mother and daughter were sitting in the doorway weaving sandals, Rasula suddenly struck up a conversation.
“Yina, why aren’t women allowed to go to sea?”
“This is the rule of the ancestors, the law of nature. Women can only go to the seashore to collect shellfish. But you must never forget that shellfish with spines are not to be touched.”
“Why did they make this rule, and what if one breaks it?”
“Oh, my dear Nana (the Wayo Wayoan word for daughter), you well know that a girl who breaks this rule would turn into a spiny urchin which none would dare approach.”
“Have you actually ever seen someone change into a spiny urchin?”
“There are urchins everywhere.”
“No, Yina, I mean have you ever seen a
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