by Graeme Cann
In the weeks following what Misha always called the second great encounter, the days were filled with preparations for their wedding. They were determined to celebrate their marriage in the same way as Sampians had always celebrated marriage, until the time of Rubin. This meant that the festivities would last for three days and would include a day when all Alofa’s male friends and relatives would celebrate with him, and then another day when Misha’s female friends and relatives would celebrate with her. On the third day, the marriage ceremony would be performed and that would be followed by more feasting and dancing. With so much feasting and celebration to prepare for, there was little time for Misha to be alone. That time came for her, however, the night the men were celebrating with Alofa.
It was a serene, moonlit night, and with the sound of the festivities in the background, Misha sat in her favourite spot by the river. It is true to say that her fear of committing to Alofa had completely disappeared. But it was true that another fear had begun to grow deep inside her and as the day of her marriage drew closer, it threatened to overwhelm her. It was this fear that drew her to this place by the river where she had learnt so much in recent days. The terrible doubt that plagued her mind now was deeply connected to her experience of sexual abuse. What if she was so broken and damaged physically that it was impossible for her to both meet the needs of her beloved and find her own fulfilment in their sexual intimacy? What if she was crippled by emotional fear? What if in the grip of that fear she drove him away from her? What if she was never able to bear children? Her heart was beating faster than usual, and some of the familiar feelings of panic returned. She tried to breathe deeply and thought about the desert flower that was now connected to the river by a channel built by the man she loved.
After a few moments had passed, she became aware that her heartbeat had slowed and the butterflies in her stomach had subsided somewhat. It was then that she sensed the presence of someone else. As she lifted her head, she found herself looking at a very large tigress that stood a few metres from where she sat. What astounded her was not that this magnificent creature was there, but that in her presence she was possessed of the deepest feeling of peace that she had ever experienced in her life. The beauty of this giant of the forest was breathtaking to say the least. Her entire golden body was covered with even black stripes. Her head was huge, her slightly opened mouth revealed a pink tongue and enormous white teeth. Her eyes smouldered rather than blazed, and as she stood calmly before Misha, she made a soft chuffing sound.
When Misha heard someone speak she was initially startled, then she realised that even though the tigress’s mouth had not moved, the voice had emanated from her. It was not the rough threatening voice of her father that she heard that day, nor was it the gentle reassuring voice of Alofa. It was in fact her voice. It was not the hesitant tremulous voice that came from her when she was afraid or ashamed, nor was it the flat emotionless voice of her depression. It was the firm confident voice of someone who knew that she was not broken and who also knew that she was capable of the strongest and deepest love. The words were not the angry resentful words that she used when she was feeling betrayed, but brave conciliatory words that spoke of forgiveness, love, and freedom. They were not the negative words that she used to express fear and unbelief, but they were hopeful and positive words rooted in a new view of both her past and her future. For a long time she sat lost in the euphoria of her own personal breakthrough. Gone was the fear of loving another. Gone was the fear of permanent physical damage. Gone was the guilt and shame. Gone was the grief that had enveloped her life. And gone also was the tigress.
She sat alone in the moonlight, and with unclouded clarity found that she was putting the three recent encounters together. As she recalled Alofa’s mother’s story of the river and Alofa’s dream of the flower in the desert, she understood that throughout her time of greatest suffering and through the loving intervention of Alofa and his mother, the Creator had been exactly what the Creator had always been, the preserver and promoter of life without fear. Now because of that, she could speak the words of forgiveness that would free her forever, to be strengthened and renewed by the water that flowed from the river of life. Gradually Misha began to realise that the music in the background had stopped. This night’s celebration was over, but tomorrow night and the next night would be momentous celebrations of new life and transforming love.
Much has already been told of Misha and Alofa’s marriage and their journey together as they learnt the Great Stories of Sampa. Together they faced and endured rejection by friends and family, and persecution by the Elders of Sampa. Together they took the decision to take their children and flee from Sampa. Together they had gathered others who felt the same and were determined to go with them. Together they had planned their exodus and together they had led nearly 200 people and their livestock on a perilous journey through the rainforest to their new home, Loloma.
When they came to their brand-new valley, they had together not only established their new home and farm, but as leaders of the new community helped plan and develop the whole infrastructure of Loloma. As important as it was to plan and build the residential areas and the public amenities, to develop the farms, the gardens, and the orchards, and establish the commercial base on which the material existence of Loloma would stand, the most important priority for the leaders was to establish a community on the principles that had undergirded the original Sampa. On arrival at their new home they thanked the Great Creator for their safe journey through the rainforest, and they renewed their Covenant with the Great One of the Forest, but that, they knew, was only the beginning.
CHAPTER TWO
THE FOUNDATIONS OF A NEW COMMUNITY
“This world of ours … must avoid becoming a community of dreadful fear and hate, and be, instead, a confederation of mutual trust and respect.”
Dwight D. Eisenhower
In the early days of settlement in Loloma, it had become obvious that many of those who had come from Sampa were deeply wounded people. Alofa spoke of a community where the love and trust that characterised it was based on a covenant that prescribed that the people would inhabit the valley and the animals would inhabit the forest. The people would only ever enter the forest to enjoy its beauty, and the only animals that would come into the valley were those who needed to eat the grass and drink from the river. Everyone who heard Alofa speak agreed with everything he said. Accepting and agreeing with this truth, however, was very different from adjusting to living at peace in such an idyllic society. Many of the men were hunters, not farmers. All of their adult lives they had killed the animals of the forest for food and for their pelts. All of their lives the predators of the forest including the tiger had been their enemy. They had lived in a community where the prevailing emotion was fear. The people were afraid of the Elders, the women were afraid of their fathers and their husbands, the children were afraid of their parents, householders were afraid of their neighbours, and the Elders were afraid of the people who lived in the mountains.
Governmental and domestic decision making was directly influenced by fear and suspicion. Order in the community was maintained by threat of the consequences of civil disobedience. The rich and the powerful were those who owned land or held prominent positions in the Council and the army, or in the judiciary, and they oppressed those who were less privileged. Marriages where men respected their wives and treated them lovingly were rare in Sampa, so many of these men and women had never been exposed to healthy models of marriage. There was a huge discrepancy, then, between the society and lifestyle that these refugees from Sampa dreamed of, and their physical, emotional, and relational ability to make it a reality. Alofa had told them the stories of Sampa in the days when people had lived without fear. He had told of compassionate and wise governance by family-orientated elders. He had told of highly revered Mother-Fathers serving generations of Sampians. He had told them of a valley that had once been totally given over to farms, orchards, gardens,
and vineyards. Of villages where humble but beautifully maintained cottages were set among colourful, fenceless gardens. Of a community that welcomed strangers, cared for the poor, and had compassion on the aged and the needy. But none of this had ever been experienced by any of them, including Alofa. For everybody except him, the stories he told had the distinctive quality of mythology. Although a great tiger had accompanied them on the journey through the rainforest, no one other than Misha, Ofa, and himself had had personal, life-changing encounters with the Great One of the Forest. They desperately wanted to be believers, but their experience of the world and the fear that inhabited their human spirit was more present and more powerful than any hope of a utopian future.
From the very first, four important events were scheduled for every week. Each Monday morning, those who were to develop the farms met and received instruction from the few among them who were experienced farmers. Then, throughout the week, the work of developing what would become a very significant farming industry would be carried out. Along with the tools and implements that they had brought with them, they had also brought seedlings, vines, and bulbs which now became the basis of a thriving plant nursery. The cattle, sheep, pigs, goats, and poultry that they had brought with them through the rainforest became the original breeding stock for the vast herds, flocks, and piggeries of the future. Some of the men built ploughs and other farm implements, while others began the planning and building of the irrigation systems and roads that were needed to serve the people and the farming industry.
The second important activity happened every Tuesday night. The people would gather in the place which would later become a beautiful village square and Alofa would, once again, tell them the great stories of Sampa. Gradually, for many of them, people like Abele, Galildra, Mesila, and Marita came to life. They did not simply hear the stories once, but they heard them over and over again until they could tell them as well as Alofa. He taught them the songs that Muralu had taught him, and often in the fields in the daytime and in the evening around the cooking fires, men, women, and children could be heard singing them together.
The third important activity was the weekly gathering of the Elders. Under the wise and thoughtful leadership of Alofa, they laid the foundations on which the community of Loloma would always stand. Principles and guidelines that would fashion the social, economic, and governmental shape of the community were carefully explained, explored, and adopted. These men and women had been in the frontline of those who had risked everything in Sampa by standing up against Kaluba. Back then, they were described as hotheads or revolutionaries, but here and now they sought only to build a loving and safe community. One of the first tasks that confronted them was the question of whether they would give individuals personal ownership of tracts of land, or whether all the land would be owned and farmed in common. They ultimately decided on the latter. All produce needed for consumption by the people of Loloma would be collected free by the families from a central store according to their need. Other produce that was to be processed for sale in Towin would also go to centres, where designated workers prepared it for shipping down the river. Money from the sale of produce would be divided as follows: one tenth would be put toward the operation of the schools; four tenths would be ploughed back into the enterprises that produced the goods; and five tenths would be used to buy items that could not be produced in the valley. There was no need for families or individuals to have their own money. All work was rewarded by coupons with which they could purchase any of the commodities that were not produced in the valley. People who could not work were catered for by their families for whom some help was available through the Elders. The produce that was shipped down the river included grains like wheat, barley, and corn. Other products included wine, dried fruits, butter, eggs, cheese, salted meat, wool, and the hides of cattle, sheep, and goats. In later years, livestock such as cattle, sheep, pigs, and horses were also shipped to Towin markets.
The fourth and final weekly activity occurred on a Thursday night in the school. Each week the women and girls would come together ostensibly to learn such things as traditional cooking, knitting, sewing, and bread, butter and cheese making. However, there was a much more important reason for coming together. Each time they met, Misha, wife of Alofa, Portia, widow of Loloma, and other respected women would assist hurt and emotionally damaged women and girls work gradually through their pain toward the sort of recovery that Misha herself had achieved. Not far from the school building the men met, again for the purpose of learning skills in building and manufacture, but the real reason was to sit under the tutelage of men like Ofa, Alofa, and Dodomi. Many an individual, a marriage, and indeed a whole family was transformed through these Thursday night gatherings. Alofa and Misha knew and taught that while it may take a whole village to raise a healthy child, it was also true that it took many healthy families to make a whole village. They also knew and taught that a healthy family was not only one that ate the right food but was one that practised forgiveness, love, and acceptance.
As the Mother-Father of Loloma, Alofa carried an awesome responsibility. As well as supporting his family by working in the local store and attending meetings and gatherings, he was constantly called on to mediate in situations where conflict arose. In the years that followed, people would speak in almost hallowed tones of the wisdom of this great man. There were many stories of Alofa’s lone journeys into the rainforest, where tradition has it that he met and consulted with the Great One of the Forest. This was particularly true during the early foundational days of Loloma, when enormous wisdom and foresight was needed to design and lay out the village.
Unlike Sampa, where there had been four small villages, here at Loloma there were three, each set close to the river, and each about three miles from its neighbouring village. There was a very important reason for this. The first reason was that it was important that people lived close to their work. Each third of the valley was dedicated to a different use. The first was given over to vegetable gardens, orchards, poultry, and vineyards, and the families who worked these properties lived in what was called the Lower Village. The second was used for the farming of beef cattle, dairy cattle, pigs, and goats, and the people who worked these farms lived in the Middle Village. The final third of the valley was given over to the growing of grain crops and the grazing of sheep, and the people who lived in the Upper Village worked on these properties. The division of the valley was based largely on the ease with which the land could be irrigated from the river and of course the gardens, orchards, and vineyards required the most water; the cattle, goats, and pigs much less, and the sheep and grain crops required no irrigation water at all.
In each of the three villages there were many cottages that housed small manufacturing businesses. The Lower Village was known for its wines, fruit juices, jams, pickles, and honey. The Middle Village produced cheese, butter, salted meats and sausages, as well as boasting an abattoir, a tannery, and a milk factory. The Upper Village produced flour, baked bread, spun wool, and made beautiful materials and quality garments. The weekly exchange market was held in the Middle Village on a Saturday morning, and the produce and the people arrived in horse-drawn carts, on foot, and on horseback. The primary purpose of the market was for people to exchange things that they had grown and produced for other things that they required. In the afternoon the people would gather in the village square and the sportsground for games, celebrations, and before they left, worship of the Great Creator.
Each of the three villages had a small school for children between the ages of five and twelve. The older children from the Lower and Upper villages travelled three kilometres to the Middle Village where they attended what we would call a high school. They were expected to be there three days each week and the other two days they worked in one of the many industries in the valley. At fifteen, when they had completed school, they were free to leave their own village if they wished and seek employment and accommodation in one of the other two villages,
or even in Towin where they could also pursue further education. To enable people to move easily around the valley, roads had to be built, transport vehicles and farm implements had to be designed and manufactured, and then maintained and repaired. Irrigation systems had to be created and water for the villages had to be supplied by using windmills and primitive pumps that were purchased in Towin and transported up the river by barge. All of this development and much more was overseen by Alofa and the Elders, and the men, women, and children of Loloma worked together to build a prosperous, industrious place where they could live in harmony and without fear.
By the time Alofa died and Damon, the son of Dodomi, one of the founders, became Mother-Father, Loloma was well established. It was the largest producer of food for Towin and had a reputation for producing the best cheese and wine that could be bought. The river shipping that had begun with crude timber barges powered by primitive steam-driven motors was now serviced by much more sophisticated craft, and in a cooperative effort between the people of Towin and the people of Loloma, a road had been built providing the opportunity for road transport between the two communities.
CHAPTER THREE
DAMON: A FATHER TO WOUNDED MEN
“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is the person who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, has chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing, and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”
Henri J.M. Nouwen. Three Meditations on the Christian Life
Damon was thirty-five years old when he succeeded Alofa as Mother-Father. He had distinguished himself not just as an Elder but also as a businessman. It was he who almost single-handedly developed the profitable markets that now gave Loloma its solid economic base. He also oversaw the establishment of the restorative justice system based on the Sampian system of pre-Rubin times. He and his wife Cora also played a huge role in reestablishing and promoting healthy family and marriage principles and guidelines.