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Acceptance.
This is how it is, and they accept it.
I feel sorry for the pregnant women and teenagers with raging hormones. Glancing around the semi-circle, I find the young girl who I saw with a boy beyond the field all those months ago. I assume it’s her because she’s staring at the boy sitting across from her in the circle.
The shaman lifts both arms and looks to the heavens after finishing his tale about a Kanaima. “A-pantoní-pe nichii.”May you take advantage of this story.
People stand from a seated cross-legged position. The families regroup and file toward their huts. I watch the teenage girl head off alone. The boy watches her as well.
“I need to pee,” I tell Samuel.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No. I’m okay.”
She walks in, and I follow a few steps and stop, afraid to venture further. Unlike the Ularans, my night vision sucks.
Rustles shift the leaves ahead of me.
Their moans are so quiet anyone further away wouldn’t hear it over the jungle squawks and clicking insects.
I remain deathly still, listening for any sign of—
What am I listening for? The sound of lovers having sex? Because it’s none of my business. It’s against the rules, and like me, this couple is taking a risk to be together in a forbidden love affair. What I guess I’m listening for is if he’s forcing her to have sex with him because she doesn’t look much older than fifteen. Maybe both are underage by Western society standards, but not here. They accept love when it’s done the right way. And I’m sure his hammock isn’t hanging in this young girl’s family hut.
I guess it proves that not all Ularans agree with the rules set by the shaman and chief. It mightn’t be my business, but if they are caught, Icareabout the consequences inflicted upon them.
4
EDEN
Today I didn’t wake up in a film of sweat.
A small win.
It’s late October, and the rainy season is hopefully over, and to think Christmas is only eight weeks away.
Christmas.
My mind works around the date out of habit as it’s the hotel’s busiest period. Only I had planned on staying here for Christmas with Samuel and leaving immediately after, only days before I was thirty-six weeks pregnant. There’s an underlying urgency in booking a return flight as my travel requires permission from authorities after that date. Unless I have special permission from an obstetrician to certify I’m low risk.
There’s no indication of a complicated pregnancy, and I intend to stay as long as possible. I miss home, but leaving Samuel isn’t something I want to think about, so I open Gran’s diary and read the words of her past. She taught me to be grateful for small things, and right now, her words connect me to home.
30th January 1960
It has to be one of the hottest months ever. I can’t think straight in my room. No air conditioning. No breeze. No wonder people have died in this heatwave. The thought of wearing that stiff uniform to work this afternoon makes me want to say I’m sick. Only it’s more comfortable on the hospital ward than in my room.
I have one more month before I’m heading home to Adelaide to be with Albert.
15th May 1960
Today is the best day of my life, apparently, and yet here I am vomiting up my guts. My fault since I wasn’t careful when I first arrived home in Adelaide.
Brenda is by my side to help me get through the day. I need her to tell me I’m doing the right thing.
I know I’m doing the ‘right thing’ for everyone else and my reputation, only is it what I truly want?
Brenda told me not to panic because everyone gets cold feet.
