My name is Areida and I am Ayorthaian. Although some people might not think that is something to be proud of, I am nonetheless. Today is a happy day, for I have just turned fifteen, and you are one of the wonderful presents I have received.
In other's eyes, the presents that I have been given might not seem too grand, but I am not what my mother refers to as a "Pampered Bottom." "The lords and the kings and the queens, she said. "That's what they are." I can only assume she means that the lords and majesties should learn to be more independent, but I can't help laughing whenever she uses her term.
My family is quite a large one. There's me, my mother, my father, my two brothers, Ollo and Uflimu, and my two sisters, Iste and Ettime. My Aunt Eneppe also stays with us for most of the year when she is not pestering one of our other numerous relatives.
We are all from Ayortha. I do not know why some people do not like Ayorthaians. I guess it's because of the way we look. Ayorthaians tend to have more of a darker skin tone than others do, and we also have darker hair. My mother tells me that my skin and hair resemble the color of cinnamon. Boys from other inns tell me that I look like dirt. I say this to my mother, and she tries to convince me that these remarks were not rude. ("If you have no dirt, how will you ever grow your food?") She did not realize that her comments did not boost my self-esteem.
Perhaps another reason why Ayorthaians are looked down upon is because of the way we speak. Instead of saying things in Kyrrian perfectly like everyone else, our accent causes us to pronounce our L's in words like Y's. The inn was having special food being served for Christmas last year, and I was sent to pick up some meat at a new Kyrrian market place. I went to the butchers and told him of my order of lamb, but he did not understand me. I kept on repeating myself, and he kept on giving me instructions to go down the street to some vegetable booth. He became pretty red in the face, and finally called some worker boy to take me away, while muttering about "crazy Ayorthaians."
The boy that came out from the back of the booth was quite cute. I felt my cheeks become a little pinker, and not just because of the cold of winter. This boy was tall, and had floppy brown hair and fair skin. He had intense green eyes that stared into mine when he said that his name was Christopher. "So," he said. "You wanted a couple of yams?"
I ended up talking to him for a little while before he realized that we needed to return to the butcher's. We got to the vegetable booths and he pointed to some odd, squashed, purple things. I shook my head, and accidentally let out a soft bah sound, and Christopher looked at me and laughed.
On the way back he told me that he is an orphan, but knows that his parents had died when he was three. They had owned a bit of land, but had not taken very good care of it. Christopher had stayed with a family who adopted him, and raised him like their own. He told me that he had attended school, but his goal was to graduate from a university, but to do that, he had to work.
He is from Kyrria, but was temporarily in Ayortha, because the family who adopted him was visiting some distant relatives. I told him many things about my life, but I stayed guarded because he was still a stranger. He seemed generally interested about my life, so I decided he was friendly, and told him more. Specifically about the downfalls of being Ayorthaian in other places and we laughed again about the lamb and yam incident. We arrived at the butcher's, and I got the meat, and said good bye.