|
tale 80 the old monkey tells his tale 5 Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com Learn languages (via Skype): Rainer: + 36 20 549 52 97 or + 36 20 334
79 74 |
|
------------------------------ |
|
The old monkey tells his
tale 5 Different valleys,
different languages and of course different behaviours. A few examples
should demonstrate this. One of them shouted something to me, moving the hand
of his outstretched arm downwards. I couldn't have dreamed what he wanted
from me, so I walked up to him. It was only later that it turned out that the
hand movement served as an invitation to call someone. In other valleys,
either the whole arm or just the hand was moved a little in a circle upwards
and towards oneself. In some areas, only monkeys in love held hands, in
others also family members or even friends. In the third, the female animal
always ran behind the male. The culture or area or degree of relationship
then determined the distance. "Haha!" laughed the granddaughter. “Here
it’s different, if males want something, they run after us, females,” and
then in a sadder tone, “but later we have to follow them.” Now her face lit
up again “Isn't there a place where they always walk next to each other?" With the mountain
monkeys, because …………. “But wait a minute!” the granddaughter burst out, “you
haven't told the nicest part after the rain yet!” For a moment, he paused.
Again something he didn't want to or couldn't explain. Very few events end in
catastrophe or in eternal happiness. Most things fizzle out or are just
slowly forgotten as if they had never happened. It only becomes something
really big if someone remembers it in particular, it touched or struck one
deeply. Especially when one is surrounded by people or places connected with
what was happening. It was different with the old monkey. Only things touched
him that he wanted to keep in mind. Everything else was lost or forgotten
because he always went from one place to another alone. Very often, he also
changed his personality. Lingering in the same place with the same people
means constancy, but also being forced into a certain role, although one
changes, but movement in the environment usually takes place more slowly.
Back then, the old monkey wanted to try it out or perhaps find it. Sometimes
he played the role of the devoted, the soulful, the independent and so on.
The environment offered him various options and he chose what he wanted. The granddaughter looked
at him and realized that his thoughts were somewhere far away. However, she
dared not disturb him, waited patiently for his thoughts to come back.
Meanwhile, various scenes were playing in her head as well. For example,
there was a couple next door. The male was a stranger, but as long as the
environment felt they were happy, he was tolerated. Or a pretty female who
had given herself not to a very rich monkey, but to a banana-rich monkey.
There was a lot of chatter and envy. But can we blame someone for seeking
security? What don't we do for a little feeling of security? The old ape thought about
how much monkeys don't understand each other even though everyone is using
the same words. As long as only body language works, both sides are much more
attentive and express themselves more clearly because they don't want to be
misunderstood. Then the little things come along, with the language, the game
begins. The last trees and bushes
were gone, just a little moss here and there, of course not a monkey soul far
and wide, the ideal place for a hermit. After the summit I would have
expected a valley again, but what I saw were even higher peaks. It got colder
and colder, the air clearer, and at the end snow-covered skyscrapers.
Climbing a tree is not necessarily the same as climbing a mountain slope, the
legs are more involved. Slowly, hunger and thirst began to plague me.
Somewhere I heard stones hitting each other. The sounds were too regular to
be natural. And around the next mountain slope, something flickered there. A fire! But no monkey
around! Hm! Now one came. There was a cave. After a moment's thought, I went
down to him. When he saw me, he raised his head for a moment and then went on
working. He was forging a knife. I sat down by the fire to warm up a little
and waited. "Where are you from?" he asked. I was pleased because I
knew that language and answered. He examined me a little more closely,
probably because of my pronunciation. “You hiked a lot.” “I visited some
valleys and spent a certain amount of time there.” “Why did you leave your
home?” “I don't know, but ……..” “Have you screwed up something?" "No,
I didn't feel like listening to the old teacher's chatter." "And
then you thought that you had to try life yourself!" "Maybe that's it." When the sun was about to
disappear behind the mountain tops, others came to the camp. "Has the committed
some crime?" one said. "Ask him yourself?" replied another.
"Hey you! What drove you here?” I wondered if a monkey has to do commit
a crime to break out of the shackles of society. A monkey, probably the
leader, sat opposite me and asked me to tell my story. It got quiet, everyone
was curious. When I finished, I saw the disappointment on their faces.
"That's a virgin." it broke out of one. Many laughed. "So
you're just wandering around." The leader examined me with his eyes. “A
strange bird! Do you know who we are?” I suspected it, but didn't know
anything more, so I shook my head. “We are outcasts! Society thinks we are
dangerous to order. They don't want us, that's why we've built our own
community here in the mountains." |
|
----------------------------------------------- |
|
-------------------------------------------------- |
|
------------------------------------------------- |
|
--------------------------------------------------- |
|
|
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen