A/N: Hello, everyone! Here's another Loompaland chapter for you. To MyWonkaSenpai, that's actually a good idea. I'll be sure to remember that for the future. Thanks. To dragonserpent18, ah, not so fast. Willy may know about the Oompa-Loompas' love for cocoa now, but he hasn't put two and two together quite yet. To Linkwonka88, yes, I have played Wind Waker. I guess it does resemble the Helmaroc King Bird a little, doesn't it? To Wolfy76398, well, I don't know if it's soon, but I did update it. To Squirrela, yep, the waters are quite dangerous, and "knowing it well" will not save them, as can be said with Loompaland as a whole. And to your second review, well, they used sign language before they moved into the factory, as seen in the movie, so I had to include that here. And yes, seeds of an idea indeed. But the idea doesn't blossom immediately. You'll have to stay tuned for that. (And on a side note, to Turrislucidus, I reread your review for Chapter 5 shortly after posting Chapter 6, and I feel like I didn't address it quite well in the author's note in the last chapter. I see what you're trying to say with the boat now and, yeah, perhaps it isn't the most efficient mode of travel, but I wanted to have that connection to the pink candy boat we see in the movie. The boat seen in the movie actually resembles waka taua of the Māori people, but those were used as war canoes, and war canoes wouldn't make sense for the Oompa-Loompas, so that's why I made it used to traverse the lake. I hope I've made my reasonings for that more clear now.) Anyways, sorry for that tangent, let's get to the chapter!
Log 14
Today is the day after I wrote my last log. The Oompa-Loompas cut open the cocoa pods and harvested all the cocoa beans from inside. Then, they piled the beans in heaps inside a special treehouse so that the beans could ferment.
As they were doing this labor, they all joined in song and dance, and it is here that I should perhaps emphasize something I haven't much before in my logs. The Oompa-Loompas love to sing and dance, and it is an integral part of their everyday lives. I mentioned their ceremonious song and dance, but they engage in musical celebration all while working as well. It makes the time pass by quicker, it makes the labor less intensive, and it often takes their mind off of all the deadly dangers that await them in the jungle.
And as I am becoming more and more familiar with the Oompa-Loompese language, the more I'm starting to realize that their songs that they sing throughout the day are mostly improvised. Yes, the Oompa-Loompas are masters at improvisation—both in song and dance. I'm not sure exactly how they do it either. My only explanation is that possibly the Oompa-Loompas almost have linked minds—as if they have a clear instinct on what all the other Oompa-Loompas are thinking—or they are all like-minded. This is not to say that none of the Oompa-Loompas have varying personalities—they do indeed, and I have noticed this more and more—just that they probably have a very good sense of other Oompa-Loompas' thoughts, at least when it comes to song and dance. It's certainly a mystery to me, as this is all speculation.
Anyways, this evening, we gathered around the bonfire once more. The chief, Opo Landis, likes to recite old Oompa-Loompa legends around the bonfire, and tonight, he explained the Oompa-Loompas' perception of the afterlife. After an Oompa-Loompa dies, they pass on to a spiritual realm known as Yoortsha—in which they will have tons of cocoa beans to eat and won't ever have to see another monster again. I assume this idea makes death a lot easier to deal with for the Oompa-Loompas. Once every full moon, the Oompa-Loompas will conduct a ritual dance to communicate with those who have passed on to Yoortsha.
After that, we all went up to our treehouses to get some sleep, so I think I'll be doing that right now as well. Until next time, Willy Wonka.
Log 15
Today, I stayed at the village while the men went out collecting more food. While staying in the village, the children Oompa-Loompas wanted to play with me. We played a game called "gimpoo-hoopa", which means "rock fun". The rules to the game are quite simple: everyone stands in a circle and throws a small rock to the person to their left as fast as they can. If the person on their left catches it, they throw the rock to the next person. If the person doesn't catch it, they're out. Each time someone gets out, everyone in the circle spreads out more until only one person is remaining, and they are declared the winner. It was a fun, if not simple, game. The children certainly seemed to enjoy my participation.
After that, Jasoo took me to a more secluded area of the treetop village. She told me this is where Oompa-Loompas stay to relax and immerse themselves in nature's more delicate creatures. At first I didn't quite understand her, because so far, none of the creatures I've seen on this island can be described as "delicate" besides the caterpillars. But then I noticed a beautiful bird fluttering amongst the branches. It looked like a toucan with red plumage, a pink neck ruff, a light red head, and a pink beak. It was so enthralling in its innocence—the way it paid no mind to me and went on with its day. It's a rare thing to experience with the animals on this island.
I sat there for quite a while, and I noticed some other amazing birds amongst the treetops. There was a parrot-like bird that had purple feathers, a blue-feathered head, and a black beak. Another bird had green feathers on its body, orange feathers on its tail, yellow feathers on its head, and an orange beak. All wonderfully brilliant colors that you wouldn't be able to find in birds anywhere else in the world.
I was also surprised to see some monkeys swinging along the branches. Jasoo later told me that they all love the monkeys, which they call "popos", the children especially. They like to give them snozzberries every once in a while for them to eat.
After the children spotted me watching the creatures of the treetops, they told me to follow them, as they had something to show me. We went down to the forest floor, and they inspected several bushes until they told me to come over there. They showed me a tiny frog; it was purple with a magenta underbelly and cyan hands and feet. They told me not to touch it, though, as it's poisonous. Some other children called me over to another bush. They found another frog; this one was blue with a green head, a yellow underbelly, and little black spots all over. This one, I was warned, was poisonous, too.
Soon after, the men came back with more red beetles, pixa plants, bong-bong bark, and green caterpillars. Speaking of the caterpillars, I was talking with Jasoo as she was preparing the food for her family, and I learned more about these caterpillars (which, by the way, they call "hoohoos"). Apparently, the ones that have alternating green-and-yellow horizontal stripes down their body are the males, and the white ones with red vertical stripes down their body are the females. Don't ask me how they know that, because I'm not really sure myself. Also, when the caterpillars turn into butterflies, they are a supposedly amazing sight to behold, as they are luminous in the darkness of night.
Later that evening, we all gathered around the bonfire; however, Opo Landis asked something of me that was completely unexpected: he asked me to tell the tribe a story from where I come from. I was happy to oblige, I just had to think of a story to tell. Eventually, I decided to tell them a fairy tale—a fairy tale that dates back thousands of years ago, and is a part of almost every culture in the world in some variation—Cinderella. I told them the story of Cinderella in their language to the best of my ability, since they don't have words for stepmother or stepsister or fairy or godmother or pumpkin or carriage or glass or king or prince, so I had to explain what all those meant in a way they'd understand, but they still seemed to respond to the story quite well. Especially the children. The Oompa-Loompas had a hard time wrapping the idea around their heads of why someone like the evil stepmother could be so cruel to someone, let alone a family member. If only they knew what I had to live through. I guess when you're living in a jungle where you could essentially get eaten at any moment, there's no time or energy to be cruel to fellow Oompa-Loompas.
I've always had a fascination with the story of Cinderella, ever since I first heard it when I was a very small child. I believe it was my father who first told the story to me—one of the few good memories I have with him. I guess my fascination with the story stems from the fact that, in a lot of ways, I can relate to Cinderella. My father was my Lady Tremaine, so to speak. Always looking down upon me, discouraging me, lowering my self-image, grasping onto me, making sure I never reach the outside world as far as he can control. He never let me go out to play with my friends (of which I had very few); he instead kept me inside the house, tasking me with chores to keep myself busy. Because of this, I guess Cinderella served as a beacon of hope to me. That even if my current situation seems irredeemable and hopeless, there's still that shining glimmer of hope that I can end up somewhere I want to be. And I did. My chocolate factory. Much like Cinderella, I rose up from the proverbial (and literal) cinders and became someone. There's a phrase from Cinderella herself that has continued to inspire me: "No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true." Until next time, Willy Wonka.