He placed the basket into the circle and squatted opposite Ed. They started where they left off on the previous evening, so I managed to get about five hundred words of vocabulary, including verbs. What I found interesting was that both men actually remembered every word in the other’s language. Ed would go back over everything, as if trying to reinforce it.
At midday, Ed turned to me, and said, “Hey, could you fetch me and my man here, some lunch, please? I’m sorry to ask, but I think he expects it. They have some rather outdated ideas on women’s roles.”
I smiled, put my recorder on the ground, and then stood and walked slowly back to the tents. The others were all anxious to hear how we were getting on, so I was cautious, but I thought I had nearly enough to build a program to create their language.
I put together a couple of sandwiches, filling two cups with water. I ate a quick sandwich myself, and took the food back to the two men.
As I approached, Ed simply said, “Him first, babe.”
I smiled at Gorran as I handed him the plate of food and the cup of water.
He grinned at me, so his white teeth flashed in bright contrast to his dark face. I noticed that he had no mud smeared all over him today.
At first, he was more interested in the plastic plate and cup, than he was the food! But as Ed started to eat, so did he, and his expressions were marvellous.
They went through the ingredients of the sandwich, and I was interested that meat was a problem. They had words for fish and birds, but none for larger animal flesh, which eased a worry about possible cannibalism!
The day passed, so I went through several tapes. Eventually, Gorran examined his small pile of goodies that Ed had left him. There was a small mirror, which he found amazing, a basic knife, which he really appreciated, and a few beads for which he had no clue.
I smiled and walked to him. I took a few of the beads, threaded them onto a string, and hung them round my neck. Then I tried to thread some of my hair through one, but it was too short. For the first time in my life I wished I had longer hair.
I gave them back to him and he grinned. He picked up his offering to Ed and handed it to me. There were some fruit and a small earthenware pot. Obviously made and fired here on the island.
I handed it to Ed and, as the dutiful woman, sat down again.
Ed went through a great play of gratitude, and made sure he knew the names of everything he had been given, or had given the other man.
Gorran raised his hand and casually left us again.
Ed relaxed and grinned at me.
“Good day, huh?” he said.
I nodded, eager to get back to work, so I jumped up and kissed him. Then I realised that we were being watched by all the team.
Ed smiled, “We got no secrets now, Babe,” he said.
I kissed him again, as I found I didn’t care who knew.
“We both got one secret, and that is staying put,” I said.
“That’s a fact,” he said, standing up and stretching.
“I’ll go and get this into my program,” I said.
“You do that, I’m gonna catch me some sleep.”
* * *
Russell
I have never been quite so wrong about two people before in my life. I always considered myself an astute judge of character, but Sergeant Ryan and Gillian MacLeish have just proved me anything but.
That day, when I first met young Gillian in the Tilted Wig, in Edinburgh, I was convinced that she was a lesbian. As I looked about the interior of the pub, I immediately categorised her as a ‘biker dyke’, so was quite alarmed when she turned out to be the linguistics specialist, who had come so highly recommended.
And then, as soon as I was introduced to the large Marine, at the bar in the Keyes, I was guilty of underestimating him dreadfully. Having seen so many films about the US Marines, I thought, ‘Oh no, not another macho, Clint Eastwood type.’
So, we set sail, and the next thing I know, Gillian and the Sergeant became an item. I was amazed, as they were such an unlikely couple. I thought he’d be the last type of person she’d go for, and her butch attitude was, in my mind, the polar opposite of the kind of girl that our Marine would find attractive. In fact, I suspect that their relationship began even before we left Florida.
During the trip, they were hardly ever apart. One morning, when I got up early, they were sleeping together on the open deck. For a girl who came over so mannish initially, she has mellowed a great deal, but only has eyes for the Sergeant. I must confess to feeling somewhat inferior when he is about. His powerful size and general demeanour is such that I feel that I am always doing something wrong in his eyes.
But as soon as we made initial contact with the natives, the Sergeant proved to be invaluable, and he and Gillian accomplished great things with the language in just three days.
But much more than this, Edward managed to build such a rapport with the native spokesman, or leader, that we received our first invitation to go to their village.
Craig had learned his lesson, so was much more amenable now. He apologised to me, for getting grand ideas about photographs of a people group, never seen by westerners before. But then he realised that he was in danger of ruining the whole point of the expedition. Mind you, the unmentionable threats from the good Sergeant probably went a long way to convince him of the error of his ways.
Ed told us all to touch nothing, and to behave absolutely straight with these people. He explained that they saw the white man as the evil stealer of people, so they would be naturally suspicious and possibly hostile. So, no flash photography and no weapons were to be visible.
Gillian gave us a quick run-down of the language, as she was delighted to be able to identify all six of the root languages and dialects from which the islanders’ new language had sprung. Her computer program had constructed the language, so she was at pains to try it out.
When Gorran, their leader, came to us, and instead of joining Ed on the circle, he had waved for us to follow him to the village; Gillian was as excited as a schoolgirl.
Ed hid the weapons in a locked strong box, which he buried in his tent. He was the only one who was carrying a side arm, so as he was the only person who could use one properly, I thought that best.
The village was about a fifteen-minute walk away. It was situated in a valley, with very tall trees masking it from above. There was a stream running through the centre, where small children were swimming in a pool, which had been formed behind a small dam. It looked like somewhere the women would wash clothes, but as none were there at the moment, the children took advantage of the opportunity.
There were about forty huts and, as Ed had surmised, there must have been about two hundred people living here! I wondered how many slaves had survived the shipwreck, all those years ago.
There was a large open space in the centre of the village, where the earth was packed solid. I assumed that this was the sort of village green or their version of the village hall, where all essential community functions took place.
We were attracting a lot of attention, Gillian in particular. She was wearing shorts, and it was the first time that she had shown any leg at all. Except when she was in her bikini on the boat, that is. It was her blonde hair that the children seemed fascinated with, and even my ginger hair was a novelty to them.
We were seated in a circle, along with a dozen of the men, whom I took to be elders. We saw women, but they were not included in the circle. I saw Gillian talking to Ed, and she sat just behind him, so as not to cause offence to the men of the village, but close enough so she could assist with the communication process.
Finally, the talking started as always with an exchange of gifts.
At last, we were able to ask the questions that had brought us here, and the story of these remarkable people was finally told!