The Gaia Chronicles- Book 1

Chapter 4

            Often, Gaia would watch the villages down below her family's mountainside dwelling. She loved seeing their daily routines. And the way they lived differently depending on which village she was watching. Today she decided to check up on the Dogon.

Gaia had learned many things about them from Dek, her father.
The Dogon lived in a very inhospitable area of the region. And curiously, that was the way they wanted it.

They held a desire to live in the world, but not of the world, and this went back several generations, at their beginnings, when it was decided that in order to preserve their teachings and keep them in their purest form they would have to stay in a remote place, and keep each Dogon settlement to a small size.

This tradition, and many others of this nomadic culture, resonated with Gaia.
She would often daydream about living a simple life, much more in tune with nature, and the natural cycles of time.

Of course, as families began to grow in size, there came a point at which the tribe would divide. One half would stay and the other would find a new location nearby.
This cycle would continue for many centuries. And this was how they maintained their teachings and way of life in its purest form.
It was a system which they believed mirrored the whole Creation. And that the whole Universe itself was organized in such a way as to always remain pure.

It was always a sad time when they separated, but they believed it was crucial to maintain spiritual balance. It was believed that if they grew too large, too industrious, too wealthy; they would begin to lose their souls.

She couldn't help but compare the fast-paced way her people lived up above, with the simple way of the villagers down below.  And somehow , either instinct or just a common sensibility, she understood what it was they were trying to avoid.

The village was one body, with the chief as the head of it, the men were the strength- the arms and legs; the women were the wisdom and brains; and the children were the heart: innocent and pure, and ever so fragile.

It was physically created in the shape of the human form.

In the hills outside Karenia's little town was the Dogon village. It was made up of eight huts, consisting of eight families, and the oldest man of each family was part of the tribal council.

Most of the time they kept to themselves, but they were always observing, and when someone needed help they were willing to lend a hand.

       The first and eldest family of the village was the Chief's family. Every night Chief Sabo would tell stories to the village of ancient battles with the Warriors from the sky who came down long ago, were ultimately defeated, but promised to return one day to seek their vengeance.

          One of the other tribal leaders was Kwame. His role was the Night Watchman. Every night as the Chief told his tales Kwame watched the village from the tallest tree on the outer edge of the forest. He knew all the stories by heart, and sometimes when the Chief's gritty voice was echoing through the air, he joined along with him, telling it word for word with exactness.

     The night is a supernatural time to the Dogon. It is when the stars are out, and meditation can bring many answers. The chief can sees changes in the stars that most do not. Chief Sabo had trained his eyes over the years and had all the constellations memorized.
           That night was special. He was dumbfounded as he looked up on the drama taking place in the stars above. The wise old Sabo saw the dance playing out in the stars and he began to hum along with the dance. He raised his hands in wonderment at what he was seeing and then reverently removed his hat and trinkets in humility, then kneeled down outside of his dwelling.
He began to lift his head with his eyes closed and then began to sing.
"Oooooooh, Aruaaaaaaa. Ooooooh, Maaaaaaliiiiiii."

Gaia pictured herself looking out with her father, and remembered his words. "One generation of a particular village may sing the same handful of songs for hundreds of years without deviation and without fail. It was their way of life. And they would often notice the same dance reflected in their daily life. Both discord and joy among the tribe- reflected by the stars above. A marriage, a birth, a death. Their lives in sync with the  universe, and with the will of the Gods as they see fit."
           But unlike that night watching the stars with Dek, as Gaia looked up , she sensed that something epic was taking place.
Outside kneeling on the ground, Chief Sabo was beside himself with both joy and a gut wrenching fear. For the time being, he had no song for what was happening. He must make a new song. He paused with his head bowed low and contemplated what he will sing to the tribe.
            He knew in the morning he must teach the new song to his tribe and let them know what changes the stars will bring. They must understand the world is heading toward an event of drastic proportions. He began to weep in joy and fear.