The Calabash of Desire Part I

Night Fire: The Calabash of Desire Part I

The nomads of the desert say that a fly wants the milk and the milk drowns the fly. The logic behind this proverb can be applied to anything that lives. According to our perspective, everything that destroys life, everything that precipitates our destruction, appears to approach us the same way. Everything that wants to destroy us always presents us something that we believe we love, desire, etc. just like how we want to catch a fish. We have understood that by throwing a hook alone in the water, we may wait for a very long time to see the day a fish will decide to give itself to us. This is why we attach bait. By attaching bait, we gamble on the incapability of the fish to control its desire. 

Maybe this is why every predator does not succeed in convincing us that they are not cruel. It is very easy to sympathize with the victim because we can identify ourselves with it. Everything that hurts us finds a way to approach us and put our consciousness to sleep. In my village we say that suffering rides desire. To want is to suffer, but the philosophic reality is not that simple. If to want is to suffer, we know also that our will, aspirations and rejections are also the greatest lines of our identity! To catch a fish one uses a worm, to trap a lion one uses its preferred prey... but to trap a human being one uses food if he is hungry, gold, diamonds, sex, and words, etc, according to the directions of his desire. The human being is the prey of suffering and destruction... 

It is the vice of the fly, its gluttony, insatiability, imprudence, etc., that makes that one bury a fly with a cadaver. The popular wisdom has produced a lot of proverbs and axioms, intending to expose the destructive nature of desire. But it is not to know very well the emotional momentum that one tries to downplay a desire and as my grandfathers say, "emotions don't think." 

The story I'm going to tell will try to express, again, the aspects of human desire and the absurdity in which desires can place us. 

A woman of the village of Koumbi spent a major part of her life traveling. Her journey cannot be considered as simple, she was going from priest to priest and from healer to healer. She had a serious problem: she was sterile and could not bear children. She tried all sorts of recipes from temples but could only, until now, imagine what she would feel the day she will be pregnant. 

One day a priest approached her in the middle of the small bush market. He told her calmly, "Hey, if you are a woman that desires a kid, your prayers will be answered. You will be pregnant very soon, but you must promise that the kid you will have will be called Wahala." 

The woman turned herself, surprised, and said, "but... Wahala means suffering..." 

"I know," the priest cut in. "When he will be on the age to understand, send him to the temples and we will explain his name." The woman did not say anything. She went straight home, excited, waiting to see the prophecy to come. 

Everything happened as prophesied. The child was named Wahala. Wahala had a normal youth. He worked on the farm with his father, he herded animals in the pastures, he hunted small animals like any kid his age. His friends did not find anything exceptional in him; for them, his name "Wahala" was nothing but just another name. Only adults were wondering. To give to one's only son a name that signifies suffering...one cannot stop wondering why; suffering for what? Was this couple wishing suffering for their only son? With all the possibilities, why choose suffering for one's son... 

Wahala grew and as decided, he was sent to the temple for his initiation. There, he asked the Makeru why he was named Wahala. He was simply sent to another priest and while he was going to that one he was told, "This one will help you understand your name. You will always be with him… he will educate you.” 

Wahala went and sat at the feet of his new Master. A moment later, he saw a poor peasant arrive wearing rags. He came and fell in front of the Makeru. He presented to the Makeru ten cowrie shells and said, "All my life I have never succeeded in having a normal life. Poverty has always struck me in the face; my family only has debt. We just sold our last chicken for ten cowrie shells. I'm coming to ask for your advice, oh Makeru. You that express the will of the Gods, I would like to become rich...help me." Wahala watched the Makeru that did not appear shocked by the speech of the peasant. After a long silence, the Makeru said to the peasant, "you finally have the blessing of the Gods. Take your ten cowrie shells and buy the first thing you can. From that point, your prosperity will start." 

The villager thanked the Makeru and went straight to the marketplace. Wahala decided to follow him. But there, the vendors were selling pots, clothes, spices, etc. The peasant saw a vendor of jewelry and decided to approach him. He told the vendor "You have very beautiful jewelry; sell me something for ten cowrie shells." 

"Are you crazy!?" said the vendor, laughing. "For ten cowrie shells you cannot even buy spoiled yam. My jewelry cost at least 5000 cowrie shells each!" After a sort of hesitation, the peasant replied, "But I only have 10 cowrie shells and I would like to buy something from you; the Makeru told me to buy the first thing I would observe, and the Gods will help me solve my problems... what do you have for sale?" 

The vendor understood quickly that he was dealing with a very simple- minded person. His commercial instinct did not resist the wish to add the ten cowries of the peasant to his profits. He said to the peasant, "My dear friend..." after he put his hand on the shoulder of the peasant, "I was having the intention of selling my portion of the World of the Dead. I decided to give up my desire to reincarnate...will you be interested in that?" 

Without hesitation, the peasant handed his ten cowrie shells to the merchant. Wahala could see a malicious smile in the corner of the mouth of the merchant. The merchant wrote down a receipt on a piece of paper that he gave to the peasant. Wahala watched them shake hands, saying things for the deal. The peasant walked happily towards his home with a piece of paper in his hand. After the peasant disappeared from his sight, the merchant exploded in a huge laughter. He laughed until tears fell. Wahala could see the satisfaction of the merchant rubbing his hand like if he was telling himself that he was the strongest and most intelligent. The merchant was excited; he could not wait to tell his wife how he gained ten cowries cheaply. 

When the merchant reached home, he told his story to his wife. She did not see things the way the merchant was presenting them. She was not like him; she believes in Gods and the world of the dead. She was visibly disturbed by the idea that her husband has sold his part of the world of the dead. "I cannot live with a man that does not have a future!" she shouted to her husband. "Get out of here, go, and do not come back without the receipt. Take back your rights to the world of the dead." 

The merchant was shocked by the anger of his wife. For a long time, he has thought that those who believe in Gods and the world of the dead were nothing but ignorant. Now he allowed himself to consider the possibility that it may be him that was wrong. He was terrified. He went back to the village looking for the peasant. When he found the compound of the peasant, he presented himself to him and said, "listen. I would like to apologize for the fact that I took advantage of your ignorance and belief. I am coming to return your ten cowrie shells in exchange for the paper I signed for you." 

"No!" said the peasant. "I am satisfied with our deal. You didn't take advantage of my ignorance." After a moment of silence, the merchant replied, "listen. I would like to give you twenty cowrie shells. I know that I have been unfair to you in our transaction." 

"No, no, I'm very happy with our transaction. I'm not ready yet to resell your portion of the underworld. I'm sure that I will gain a lot of money when I sell it." 

The merchant realized that the peasant will not resell his portion of the underworld cheaply. He added on his bid. "My dear friend, I will make you an offer you cannot refuse. I'm giving you ten golden rings for a piece of paper. That is a lot of money." The peasant was not impressed. "I need a thousand gold rings to pay my debt and start a new life. If you give me that amount I will sell this paper to you. If not, I will sell it to whoever wants it for that price." The merchant was shocked. A thousand gold rings! That is a lot of money. But he quickly accepted. He returned home to his wife and presented the piece of paper to her. "I spent a thousand gold rings to buy back a piece of paper worth ten cowries!" The woman took the piece of paper and went to the temple. She was very preoccupied. "Makeru," she said. "My husband has sold his portion of the underworld to a peasant that came to see you. My husband has received ten cowries from the peasant. I forced him to buy back his portion of the underworld because I will not want to live with somebody that does not have a future. This piece of paper cost him a thousand gold rings. Tell me, oh Makeru, if my husband has a place in the world of the dead. If yes, tell me what is the right price of a portion of the underworld after death?" 

The young Wahala sat between the legs of the Makeru listening carefully. He saw the Makeru use his hands like if he was trying to help visualize what he was preparing to say. "When your husband was willing to sell his portion of the world of the dead for ten cowries, that portion was not even worth that much. But when he was willing to buy it back for a thousand gold rings, you should know that that portion is now worth more than thousand gold rings." 

To be continued next issue...