Days went by and the visitors were not leaving. Instead, they started cutting everything around them. The Spaniards were working harder than ever building on the lands they had previously wiped out. Some of our men were getting restless at the sight of this destruction. My brother told me Father was worried they might want to take over our lands as they had taken over the coast. Their constant hammering and screaming were driving all the animals away from our lands. Instead of happiness and peace, my mornings brought stress and anxiety.
Even though I continued with my lessons, I wasn't comfortable around them anymore. Some of the older men were roaming around with hungry looks in their eyes and would take some of my friends on trips to their boat with the promise of new riches, but they never came back with anything other than torn clothes and sad looks. I tried asking one of them what was going on, but all she did was cry inconsolably. I told her to talk to one of the adults, but the desperation she showed when I just made a suggestion let me know that was out of the plan. I didn't really want to meddle, so I kept quiet and continued with my learning.
I was the last one left, the only one that hadn't been called to the boat. I dreaded the time when they would come for me, but it never came. Maybe because I was always working. My learning had moved on to interpretation between our chief and the Spaniard leaders. They spoke of forming a friendship and trading goods, but our adults never seemed to agree on anything with them. It made no sense to me that they would waste such opportunities.
Their leader and some of our men went back by boat to their place, but many others stayed. Our peace and quiet were gone. My father didn't look happy anymore. I heard him talking to my big brother; he was saying they had to start fighting to protect our land. Many women suffered after they left, and the ones left took into their own hands the protection of our territory. They stopped letting the white people enter the forest and started taking turns to keep watch at night. My brother spent every minute he had practicing shooting arrows and spears. At some point, they didn't even let us girls continue our studying. However, I had to admit I was relieved because I could feel those treacherous jaguar eyes staring at me every time I went to their side. How their savage stares and hushed whispers among them followed my every move.
It was at that moment when the situation got worse. I didn't get to see peace after that.
YOU ARE READING
How to Greet a Stranger
Historical FictionThis story is a historical fiction based on the time when the Spaniards arrived in Costa Rica for the first time. It is told from the point of view of a young native girl who saw firsthand the atrocities committed against her people.
