Humility

by Magdalene Hornbeam

  He found AlBukri in the yard of the small mosque. The old bearded Islamist immediately recognized him. But he did not even smile.

  - What brings you here to us, Musa?

  - I felt sick and nostalgic, I decided to come to see you.

  - Come on, I’ll get you home.

  The swarthy guest looked just as many men who were walking down the street in both directions. They stayed silent. Only when they climbed the first flight of several stone steps and went into the house by the wooden staircase, the host said:

  - I expect a phone call from Hyulal.

  - Hyulal was small when we moved in France. If you see him, I will not recognize him. Didn’t he have a twin?

  - You'll recognize him... - somehow slowly said the old cleric. - His twin’s name is Ilal

  - I thought first you would read me a mentoring lecture on Salafism –his words sounded somehow inappropriate.

  - Many years have passed, you are a grown man, I cannot get you in track if you do not want – a flicker of a smile flashed for the first time in the bearded face of AlBukri.

  - We've grown white, since the time we last saw each other.

  They entered a wide room, quite ascetically furnished. They opened the shutters and through the windows sunlight burst. Musa took the rucksack off of his back and sat on the wide couch. At that moment the phone rang, just now the young doctor noticed the set placed on the gray dresser door. The bearded cleric picked it up pretty quickly.

  - Hyulal, is that you? - His beard, though gray, was thick and curly as before. The voice on the other side confirmed. - Hyulal, wait, wait, can you explain to Musa, he has come here, to see me - and then handed the phone to the doctor.

  - Hyulal, hello, where are you?

  - I’m in In Bolivia, Musa, I want to come back, but I have only fifty dollars.

  - Where exactly in Bolivia?

  - In La Paz, particularly in El Alto, in a hostel.

  - Well, stay there for the night again and then go to Peru along the Lake Titicaca.

  - I cannot, I have no money, I’d better stay here, I know the city, and you can come get me.

  - Just a moment to reconsider the possibilities.

  Dr. Musa Ziyad took out his smartphone and immediately launched a search engine for a return ticket. He found a flight the next day, with a break in Paris but the return flight was first Lima - Miami, then Miami - Paris and then Paris - Algeria.

  - Musa, are you there? - Hyulal sounded alarming.

  - Tell me your names from the passport to buy airline tickets to Lima and back. I think I should be able to pick you up from Bolivia and take you to Lima to go back here in AlBukri for three days.

  Hyulal gave him the information needed, waited for the doctor to buy the tickets online and once told him exactly where exactly in La Paz the hostel where he was staying was located.

  The old cleric stood to the dark-skinned Musa, peering into his smartphone. Seeing that the doctor paid for two return air tickets to Lima in Peru the total sum of 14 thousand dollars his face turned red with embarrassment.

  - Musa, I have only a few thousand dollars put aside – he began to explain.

  - Don’t worry, I'll pay, I just want to be able to get home as planned, then I would ask you to help me to find a girl.

  This time AlBukri smiled widely and showed two rows of equal, though yellowish teeth. They looked at each other and hugged. The old cleric had rescued and raised the twins some time ago. But he never showed how dear they were to him.

  ***

  After almost a day, Dr. Ziyad landed at the airport in Lima. Luck was on his side because he managed to catch a plane to Huliaca, Bolivia.

  But to get on a bus to the capital of Bolivia - La Paz, the highest capital in the world, proved more complicated.

  Bolivia extends upon the Andean Highlands, covering cold desolate plateaus and subtropical lowlands. They are also called it the American Tibet. There are people on the planet in the highest situated and isolated Latin American republic. Bolivia is also the most indigenous country on the continent with more than fifty percent descendants of Indians guarding their traditional cultural values and beliefs. He would be happy to visit the country as a tourist, to enjoy the amazing landscapes, colonial treasures, colorful Indian culture and traces of mysterious ancient civilizations. But the occasion of his arrival was another. Crossing so many time zones may certainly have its impact on him, so he felt incredibly happy when he finally sat on the bus and lay back in the seat. He arrived in La Paz at noon.

  The city center was located in a deep canyon, as the richest parts were the lowest and poorest so-called El Alto (high) "flowed" out of the canyon in the plain of the Altiplano, at a four thousand meters altitude.

  The bus entered the El Alto somewhere about one o'clock in the afternoon. He had no exact idea as to where to go, but he had his suspicions that it would not be the central parts. And he was right, stopped somewhere in El Alto, but at least the place didn’t seem to be the most miserable and there were several hostels nearby. He came into the only one with warm water (which cost extra) and having taken a bath, he felt he would sleep like a log, but the meeting with Hyulal was scheduled for that day. A doctor is always a doctor. He managed to get over the fatigue. His task was to go downtown. He asked some people and soon the bus, which he had to take came in and he got in. They drove to a panoramic road that was descending to the lower parts. The view was massive - half the town lay below, colored brown-orange due to the bare-brick houses. Somewhere below through the richer parts tall buildings protruded, and at the back in the distance, there rose the mighty figure of Illimani peak, with nearly six thousand five hundred meters. Musa could understand what they spoke. The People in El Alto called La Paz - "The Hole."

  When they drove down a street, which looked more like a market than a road. On both sides there lined stall after stall with almost anything one can think of. Meanwhile, multitudes of people slowly creep near and between vehicles carrying bags of goods. The fair was full and startling. Buses barely wiggle into that crowd and it seemed that walking would be much faster. Streets in downtown were paved and most of them very steep. Naturally, the sidewalks were narrow and traditionally occupied by the stalls. Despite the steepness however, these streets were the roads, where the public transport buses seemed to be flying against all principles of gravity. Road signs were gone, and the only rule for traffic seemed to be "a blow of the horn as the car or bus approached an intersection."

  Here in every bus there was a Caller. He screamed from the top of his lungs, opening and closing the door, collecting money from passengers. Constantly there drifted cheers "Ceja Ceja, un Boliviano, Ceja Ceja, on the go." That Ceja was in fact a neighborhood in El Alto.

  Because more than half of the Bolivians are Indians and have retained some of their old beliefs and traditions, there was a huge "Witch Market", which was on the streets around the hostel where he was waiting for Hyulal. In the stalls of this market people were offering different products with a ritual character - amulets of all kinds, herbs, cactus San Pedro (from it by boiling people yield powerful hallucinogen), bottles of wine for "chayar" (chasting some wine in honor of Pachamama) , small fake dollars for financial luck and all sorts of other things. There were all soothsayers, who could see the future on coca leaves.

  Dr. Musa Ziyad had come down from the van and was looking for the soothsayer that would connect him with Hyulal. Finally, barely threading over the crowd, he came upon the ritual called "chayar." In the middle of the street people had lit two tin stoves, or shall we call them "ritual burning stoves." They were burning different things on them. The people around were drinking beer and occasionally poured the fire from which it started flaring brightly for a very short moment. He asked who the fortuneteller was and a short woman pointed to the Indian with a face in a colorful pattern. Further, the events moved with the speed of light. He was ordered to sit on a stool, to drink beer and do "chayar 'for the sake of health.

 
Then a little boy led him down a tourist street with souvenir shops, traditional musical instruments, clothes of wool, alpaca casseroles and offices of travel agencies. They came up to the vegetable market. One of the many. The street was closed for vehicles and the aunties who arrived from villages near La Paz filled the entire space. Nobody used scales. Fruits and vegetables were sold by number or measured approximately by sight. Musa bought an apple –for the price of one Boliviano, three tomatoes, to which the seller concluded that it was half a kilo, a price of also one Boliviano. Then child -guide brought him before the sitting salesmen, lined piles of tomatoes, and different types of beans. They put him in an alcove, surrounded by crates and boxes. Hyulal was waiting for him there. They shook hands, Hyulal hugged the Indian boy goodbye and they started along the steep street on which peasants with fruits were moving in large baskets on his head. Then they took the bus to the hostel where the doctor was staying. Hyulal had no luggage, he was carrying only his passport.

  Moussa checked out from the room at the hostel and took his backpack and complained that the time difference was simply killing him. But he immediately caught a bus to Lake Titicaca. Their aim was Peru. The trip by bus from one side to the other side of the lake was about two hours. They had to reach the border of Bolivia. It was very cold and it was raining, they were shivering like dogs in the queue for immigration and they had no winter jackets. The policeman looked at them strangely and started looking at some long lists what the requirements for leaving the country were. It turned out that they have to pay when leaving the country, but their visa was issued in advance in Lima, so there were no unpleasant surprises. When they were already in Peru, Hyulal asked:

  - What did you get me a visa in Lima?

  - With the help of the airplane tickets - they looked at each other. Musa smiled. - Long live corruption! - The last words he said quietly, though they were speaking in Arabic and there was no one who could understand them.

  ***

  After three days spent in crossing the oceans, seas and continents, Musa and Hyulal were in the town of Algiers. In the old part of town, in an even older house. The bearded Salafi cleric AlBukri watched them with tears in his eyes, and they sat on large couches and kept silent.

  Chapter 15

  Nigel Eisenstein received a rather strange call from "the Anthill." A man called him and claimed that he replaced Fritz Muller as a commander and as prescribed, that day was the final date for the dismissing the participants of the project. He put it exactly like this: "Today is the deadline and I must comply, but I have to consult with my superiors, but Mr. Muller does not answer my calls."

  Nigel allowed to tell everyone that it was the closing date and they will begin leaving the camp in the Andes as scheduled - organized and everyone will get their contract, points will be taken away or added, and after the arrival on a permanent address, they will receive notice with instructions on how to designate a bank account in order to be transferred the rightful amount.

  The commandant hung up obediently and somewhat in a hurry. Nigel called Fritz, then all mobile in the camp of the reality format "Show Sahara." No one answered. He ordered the technical secretary to call and do her best to find and to connect with him when such communication was possible.

  They called him from the Corporation. It was the "mediator", personally. Hackers had broken the Internet platform on which the Board members were exchanging information. It was possible that some of the films shot during the conduct of experimental project "Anthill" be made available to these Internet pirates. At the moment everything was under control, but there had been a twenty-four hour break in their system.

  - The films have no sound, so once the reports are protected, there would not be any particular consequences if you misuse them - Nigel Eisenstein sounded patronizing.

  - I'm calling actually to ask for an extension of the project "Anthill" because some board members used the hacker attack to insist for movies with sound, in order to make a decision.

  - But whether the project has been approved and it was only a matter of proof of the theory of external behavior?

  - The project was approved online but it is not yet signed by the members. When we conducted an online rally in connection with the hacker attack and then we came to the conclusion that films without sound can always be refuted and adjusted, some of the important factors in our system demanded video with sound. For I am informed that none were made, I insist on continuing the experiment and in the next few months you should create at least one voiced clip for the separate individual "cells".

  - Just a month ago we dismissed all psychologists, sociologists, anthropologists, and psychiatrists who worked for four years on the reports. In the camp there are only participants, administrative and security staff. As well as three doctors and ten percent of tech support. Just today is the date "deadline" and we have already started dismissing the participants - Nigel spoke icily.

  - Yes, I know that, but hardly anyone was able to leave Bolivia today. According to the board you have enough resources to extend the experiment by another three months. Money has been transferred to you. I wish you good luck! – The Chief Executive who wanted to be called "mediator" said it in its unmistakable refreshing voice and hung up the phone, as if he were some good Lord.

  Nigel realized that the gentleman had first rung Fritz and knew already that no one has yet been released to return to normal life, no one of the participating people in their grand experiment called "Anthill". It was a good decision that they let the children go right on time and those who were born in the camp were submitted for adoption. He personally and strictly checked the documentation.

  The receptionist could not connect with any of the five mobile providers that were given to her. He came back in his office, because he had gone to check what they were doing in the Special ward. He called the hotel in Niamey, the capital of Niger and asked the front desk to put him through with room 203. The observer was in the room.

  - Report!

  - This affair goes perfectly here. Nobody questions why so many day the visitors have not been back to spend the nights at the hotel. It is pre-paid, so they are even happy.

  - Any news from the jungle?

  - I saw Fritz yesterday at the hotel in the company of a tall man. I have made pictures, if want, you’ll send them. After the meeting, a black military took him straight from roof of the hotel by helicopter. The tall gentleman stayed in the hotel, I got the information about him.

  - Excellent work. Send me everything you have got.

  After receiving the pictures and data Nigel tried to cut the image of Fritz and then send the processed images of the unknown entity to the head of special department. He ordered him immediately to tackle the matter and clarify who this person was.

  He was not satisfied. For so many years they have been trying to figure out who the members of the board were, but apart from some lawyer's office in London, which had formed and validated their contract with the Corporation, they could not reach anyone. They had direct contact by phone with the Chief Executive, who lived in Switzerland, but the only reliable information about him was that his cell was located near Geneva and he wanted to be called and addressed as "mediator".

  But for almost four years now, the Corporation has been transferring millions to work on the project "Anthill" and it was done exactly according to the contract, so there was nothing to complain about.

  Fritz alleged that he was engaged in employment in Munich as an assistant in a consulting company that has contracted with the corporation. "Mediator", in the same way, phoned to ask him questions. The regular independent reports Fritz Muller sent to the same email address to which they sent their reports from London. They had checked the German consulting company. There they received the money for commission every month, for the employee who they had sent, though they knew nothing about his confidential work. Moreover, they were not even interested in what country their collaborator Fritz Muller was. They only had the inf
ormation that it was in Latin America.

  The people from the Board of Directors were phantoms, but rich phantoms. On top of that they were convinced that soon most people on earth would perish and then they would take in their hands the regaining of the new world order. So they were interested in the report of the sociologist Nigel Eisenstein – it was about the applicability of the social organization of ant colonies in human society. As each eccentric, gifted with a brilliant mind, Eisenstein had exhibited quite a scandalous thesis that some drastic change in public state policy was needed, if they expected that humanity survived without destroying the planet. He had advocated that the first and essential step is the refusal of the money as a bargaining unit and the closure of parasitic institutions such as banks and stock exchanges. The smooth transition could be done through the Bitcoin. A second no less urgent measure he said was sexual reduction. That is only fertile humans to reproduce, a controlled number of children to be born, and to be grown up and raised by professional parents - educators and the rest of the population should undergo vasectomy and “tying” of the ovaries and this part of the society should start working for the material and spiritual progress.