Welcome to part 3 of a three part story. If you have not read my last two posts (South Africa #6 and #7,) please go back and do so before continuing on. Today's picture is not an illustration of the story, but includes another portrait of my friend and guide to African spirituality, Mma Seitsang, who told me this version of "Tsalane and the Dimo." She is pictured dancing in her healer's outfit on the left hand side of this drawing. In this instance, I have changed her red and white clothes to pure white to suggest that what is happening is taking place in the spirit world. In most of the traditional artwork and ceremonies of Sub-Saharan Africa, the color white is symbolic of "the land of the ancestors." Around the time that I was working on this picture, I was thinking about the perils and joys of the spiritual life. The ravaged figure in the foreground represents a complete dedication to spiritual matters-the mind taking flight while the body erodes. This is based on a common image of the Buddha, who starved himself in the wilderness under various masters before finding his own way to enlightenment. I will explore these issues further in future drawing and posts,for now, on with the story: TSALANE AND THE DIMO: PART 3 As soon as the Dimo Family ran out into the night in search of free beef, Mother slipped inside the cave and swapped the bag of angry bees for the bag containing Tsalane. All of her stubbornness forgotten, Tsalane hugged her mother and they both shed tears of joy. "Quickly, now," whispered Mother,"we must run through the forest to our new home where Father and Brother will be so happy to see you." And off they went. Soon after, the Dimo Family returned to their cave upset that they had found no cows over the next hill, dead or otherwise. "Our friend must have changed his mind and decided that he wanted the whole cow for himself after all. I hope he gets indigestion, the greedy so-and-so," complained Big Papa Dimo. However, the mood quickly changed when they discovered that the stew was ready and it was time to add the meat. "Daughter, go and fetch the meat. Its there by the door," said Papa Dimo. "I can't pick it up! Its biting me!" screamed Daughter Dimo. "Nonsense," said Papa "Humans, as a rule, have very small teeth. Son, go and fetch the meat." "I can't pick it up!" hollered Son Dimo "IT HURTS!" "You must be kidding." said Papa Dimo, starting to get very angry, "Mother Dimo, please, get the meat, so we can eat!" but Mother Dimo said, "I can't pick up either. Are you sure you have not caught a lion instead of a little girl?" After hearing this , Papa Dimo was raging mad, "If you can't do a simple task after I have worked for weeks and weeks to catch a human for our supper, then you don't deserve any of it! I'm going to take the stew pot and the girl into my bedroom and enjoy the stew all by myself. The rest of you can co to bed with empty bellies tonight." So Big Papa Dimo did just that, and locked the door behind him for good measure. "You are very lively," said Papa Dimo when he looked at the roiling bag "but not for long. Heh! Heh! Heh!" He then picked up the heavy sack and dumped its contents into the still bubbling pot. But, instead of the satisfying plop of a tender young body, the room was filled with a horrible buzzing. And Big Papa Dimo's world became a world of pain. The bees stung him over and over as he flailed helplessly at the locked door of his bedroom. He soon wore a suit of bees, each one bent on revenge. When Papa Dimo finally got the lock undone, he burst past his family and into the night. He was pursued by the swarm as he ran and ran, finally stopping to plunge his head in a small pond in an effort to escape the bees. And it was there, with his bottom thrust into the air, that Big Papa Dimo drown. Now homeless, the hive took up residence in the dead dimo's backside, entering and exiting through the cannibal's fundament. The next morning, when Tsalane and her brother arrived at that very same pond to collect water, they were surprised to see Papa Dimo dead. The approached cautiously, but their fear was soon overcome when they found that Papa Dimo was no longer a threat to anyone. The deceased monster soon became a figure of fun, when the children discovered that by shouting "Asshole open!" the dimo's anus would indeed open producing a cloud of bees. And conversely, when they shouted "Asshole closed!" the bees would fly back inside and the dimo's butthole would indeed close. This activity proved so engaging, that after several hours, Mother and Father came looking for them at the pond. They lead the children home where, after finding a new water source, they resumed their happy life in their new home. THE END. Next time: Baby New Year.
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