Wei Loon Jingsheng
Loon followed her host family — Chi Unesugi, the mother, Lith Consul, her husband, and the twins
— from the minibus onto a path. In those few steps, they left behind the city and entered the
countryside. Woods lined the transition, but soon gave way to a grass-covered karongo, a long and
wide gulch with a deepening crease down its middle. She looked back, but the low buildings of
Ganj Dareh were blocked by the twilight horizon.
People strolled the wide path down the center of the karongo. Nearly all, like Loon's hosts,
carried blankets, baskets, and an occasional lightweight chair.
Many also wore brightly colored clothing. Women sported blouses with looping designs drawn by hand
using glitter or mounded reliefs in pastel. Their wide, knee-length skirts, trimmed with braid,
ribbons, or lace, swished easily over bouffant petticoats as they walked. The men sauntered along
in long-sleeved shirts stylized with embroidered designs and accented with string ties held in
place by gaudy slides. They wore tight pants, with sharp creases running down the front of each
leg, and flaring bottoms.
"Happy clothes," said Chi Unesugi. She held her sons tightly by their hands. The boys seemed
content to hang close and look about them with wide, bright eyes. "My husband and I do not dance,
so we do not dress in the same way. We like the clothes, though." She smiled at Loon. "Cheery,
aren't they?"
Loon's insides stirred uncertainly. So many strangers, yet everyone seemed friendly. The night
fell about them, like a gentle hand sowing peace and quiet. Two moons tempered nature's enveloping
darkness with full faces, one medium-sized and climbing out of the east, the other skittish and
small, already high among the stars.
Loon and her family passed a turnoff that led into a cutout. The karongo's bank had been scooped
out in a near-circle, open on its down side and sheltered by grassy banks on the others. In the
middle, the cutout showed a square of pavement, with low, soft lights and squarish bulbs of
speakers opposite each other. People seemed to be settling down around the perimeter.
"We usually go farther along," Chi Unesugi said. "Where there are more children." She glanced
down at her boys. "Next year, we think Gerson and Hiroki will want to learn the dances."
After a few more cutouts, Lith Consulune turned off the path, then up and across the grassy slope.
Loon could see better now. Evening and fellowship filled the karongo. Down its middle,
alternating sides of the path, the dance squares offered pools of comfort and amusement.
At the very bottom, the hushed karongo yielded to a narrow valley, its center surging with a
sculpted amphitheater, crisp tiers of seats cupping a sprawling square. A throng of people — most
her age, some older — if she wore happy clothes, she'd fit right in — mingled on the huge dance
floor. Bowls of light, dark caps inverted on tall poles, splashed the scene without washing out
the stars and moons. On a stand snugged against the bleachers, a band warmed up.
"But everyone knows we always sit here," a basso voice stated implacably.
"We didn't know," responded a tweaked younger voice.
Loon pulled her focus back to her immediate surroundings. Her host family stood awkwardly just
downslope, while further around the side of a cutout, a chubby man braced himself with his arms
wrapped around a basket and a cooler. Beside him, a woman of similar build carried two folding
chairs. Facing them were three men not long out of Passage, like Loon. They posed awkwardly, two
still sitting on the ground, a third standing and thrusting his head forward.
"Everyone knows we always sit here," the chubby man repeated.
"We did-unt see your name on the ground," the standing youth said. His vowels were broader than
the man's. Behind him, the other two climbed slowly to their feet. Their concerned eyes scanned
the onlookers. Their bodies and faces showed them as from-Europe-Northern. Their clothes marked
them as living off the Collective.
"Everyone knows we always sit here," the man said. He and his wife were probably from-Portuguesa.
"I heard you!" The youth stepped forward, his fists clenching.
Lith Consulune bent quickly and released his load to the grass. As he straightened, his eyes
instructed his wife. She retreated with the boys, and he moved forward into the breach. He placed
a hand on the chubby man's arm. The gesture sparked Loon: her peacemaker mood flowed over her, a
common experience since her parents died from eating the wrong mushrooms many years ago. An
orphan, child no longer, not yet an adult, she often helped when sides became uneven. That's why
she thought she'd be good at anshin work. She started across to the three youths.
"Manoel, there is plenty of room," Lith Consulune said.
The stout man pivoted his head. "Everyone knows we always sit here."
The lead stranger opened his mouth, but Loon raised a hand as she stepped in front of him. "I'm
new here," she said. With another gesture, she drew his attention to her host, and the mother and
children behind him. "These people have been kind enough to show me this entertainment. Would you
and your friends like to sit with us?"
The youth flashed a glare past her, then returned her look. He nodded curtly with a muttered
"Danke." From-Deutschland then.
Loon led them from the spot in dispute. Lith Consulune turned to join them. He welcomed the
youths and added a warm smile when he met Loon's eyes. The eight of them moved on a few more
meters and settled on an empty spot.
