Bandiagara, Part 6b
Dealing with a hostile crowd. Also, Juggling Geese.
It was a far cry from the warm welcome he had been led to expect. 狐狸 Húli Network had a stranglehold on trade on this planet, but he sure hadn't expected the locals to go along with it. Thought they'd be happy to see an independent trader. Ship full of useful things, and he was willin' to trade fair, yet the crowd at the base of the ramp was clearly unfriendly, if not downright hostile. Perhaps they suspected he was part of a sting operation.
"Not interested in interfering with the workings of 狐狸 Húli Network," Mal said, as he began to understand what underlay the hostility. "Got nothin' to do with 狐狸 Húli Network, near nor far, nor the government." He thought these words would diffuse the tension somewhat and was surprised when a menacing murmur rippled through the crowd. He caught the words 'pirate' and 'slave' and hastened to counteract these ideas. "I ain't no pirate. Nor slave trader. Just an ordinary trader. I got goods to trade. I got reason to believe you folks might want 'em, might even need 'em. Ain't lookin' to gouge or sell you something you don't want. Just fair trade."
The elder spoke cautiously. "What have you to trade?"
"Electric generators. Water pumps. Bicycles. Refrigeration units. Vehicles and transport, water purification systems, air compressors, solar panels, sewing machines. Medicines." As he spoke there were murmurs of interest here and there in the crowd, but the mood was still tense and cautious. "Ain't none of it new. It's all reconditioned, I won't try to mislead you." Mal tried to follow up on the positive signs. He'd had no idea it would be so very difficult to break the ice here. "I was told you all could use such things. That they didn't make it out this way so very often. So I brought 'em here, hopin' we could trade."
"Who told you we wanted such things?" the elder asked.
"Juju Kamara."
It was as if he'd spoken the magic words. "Juju Kamara!" the elder exclaimed, his face brightening with a great smile. "Yes, she is Fajara, like me." He approached Mal and grasped his hand in both of his. "Welcome, my friend, welcome."
. . .
Jayne set to unloading some of the machinery Kaylee had assembled in flight, while Mal and Zoe discussed terms of trade with the village elder, who introduced himself as Mamadou Conteh.
"Kumba Jobarteh…Babacar Dal…Alieu Suso…" he named some of the other village elders. "Nana Kuyateh, my wife. She is also called Jabaru Mamadou. It simply means 'Mamadou's wife.' I am also called Jëkkëre Nana—Nana's husband."
"This is my First Officer, Zoe Washburne."
"Your wife?" Mamadou inquired, eyeing Zoe's gravid state.
"No, sir. Zoe's a widow," Mal answered, pre-empting Zoe's reply. "Her husband died in the line of duty four and a half months ago. He was our pilot. Crash landing. Saved the lives of all of us, including, as it turns out, his own unborn child."
Mamadou addressed Zoe. "Madam, it is a tragedy that one so young as you should know such loss. Siggil ndiggale. Yalla na ko Yalla xare ajanà. Yalla na ko yalla yërëm. What is written cannot be unwritten. May Allah the Merciful help you find the strength you have within yourself to weather this loss and rebuild your life, and may the love of the new child heal your heart."
. . .
Now that the Captain had made friends with the inhabitants of Fajara, the landing turned into something of a celebration. More and more villagers turned out to see what kind of wonders the trade ship contained. Rumors were already spreading that this wasn't just another load of cheap cast-offs that wouldn't sell in the Core.
Most of the crew turned to, helping Jayne and Kaylee unload the electric generators, bicycles, sewing machines, and communicators that had been assembled during the flight from Beylix.
"That's strange," Ip said to Simon, as he passed him on the ramp.
"What's strange?"
"Did you see how many people are wearing 'Verse Cup T-shirts here?"
"Sure," Simon answered. "Are you surprised? People are 球迷 qiúmí all over the 'Verse, not just in the Core."
"Yes, of course," Ip said, dismissing that as a given. "But didn't you read the shirts?"
Simon took the opportunity to do so on his next trip down the ramp. Many of the villagers were wearing loud, garish T-shirts reading "Ariel Strikers, 'Verse Cup Champions 2517." When he next passed Ip, he remarked, "I'm a bit surprised that so many people here are supporters of the Ariel World Team."
"But that's not what's so odd, Simon," Ip said. "Ariel didn't win in 2517. Bernadette did. Ariel got eliminated in the semifinals."
"So they weren't 'Verse Champions?" How disconnected he'd become from the Core, Simon thought. Back on Osiris, he would have been a social outcast if he hadn't known who won the 'Verse Cup, whether or not he was a football fan. Now he realized he didn't give a good gorram who won or lost the Cup. It just didn't matter out here in the Black. Goodness, had he just had that thought? 'A good gorram'? He really wasn't in the Core anymore. How he had changed!
Ip's thoughts were rather different. The T-shirts were all reasonably new, and didn't even have a year's wear on them. He guessed that some hopeful Ariel entrepreneur had ordered the shirts in anticipation of a victory, and then was unable to sell them in the Core when the team was trounced. A year later, having somehow escaped the watchful eye of the Football Federation's licensing division, they found their way to Bandiagara on a 狐狸 Húli Network ship, to be unloaded on the local population who was unable to choose anything else.
. . .
Jayne found himself whistling as he unloaded Kaylee's machines. A verse of a song by his favorite group, The Juggling Geese, popped into his head, and soon he found himself singing.
"Come all you singers, all here in a throng,
I'll sing you a ditty that's turgid and long,
With words that don't rhyme and a meter that's ruttin' wrong,
And it's not what I'd sing when I'm sober,"
Jayne sang, as he set down a wind-turbine generator. As he cast a look around the assembled crowd with what he meant to be a friendly smile (though it came out as more of a challenging leer), he saw that lots of the Bandiagarans were fans of The Juggling Geese, too. Who'da thunk it? Juggling Geese had been a hot commodity back on Boros about five or ten years back, and Jayne remembered the time when he'd scored a pair of prime tickets to the Juggling Geese concert, and it'd made him the most popular man in town for a spell as all the ladies vied for the opportunity of being his date for that event. Oooh, yeah, those were good times.
Jayne remembered his amusement when he'd heard Zoe's man Wash talking about Juggling Geese. Thing was, Wash didn't have a clue. He thought, honest to god, that there was actual geese—baby geese—bein' juggled. Someone had pulled a fast one on the little man. Jayne could just picture it. Wash: Whatta y'all do 'round here for fun? Local: Juggling Geese. Wash: You juggle geese? Local: (duh) Juggling Geese. (to his pal) What planet this doofus come from that he don't know about The Juggling Geese? Jayne pictured this scene happening on Yinyang. The Juggling Geese practically owned that world, they had so many fans there. After all, it was where the lead singer was from, too.
Broke Jayne's heart when The Juggling Geese broke up three years ago. Right before their last concert tour. More of them gorram "artistic differences" that seemed to do in so many fine touring bands. They'd toured anyway—had to, to fulfill their contracts most like—but their heart weren't in it no more, and the music weren't no good no more, neither. Jayne was sure there was lots of unsold music waves, lots of unsold concert T-shirts—good gorram! That was it! The Bandiagarans prolly never heard of The Juggling Geese, neither. Just some ship come and dump the surplus on them, 'cause they couldn't sell it nowhere else. Filled with nostalgia, Jayne wondered if one of the villagers would trade him a Geese T-shirt. Never got a chance to get one, back in the day.
. . .
.
.
.
glossary
狐狸 Húli [fox]
Jabaru Mamadou [Mamadou's wife (in Wolof)]
Jëkkëre Nana [Nana's husband]
Siggil ndiggale [Condolences].
Yalla na ko Yalla xare ajanà [May Allah keep him in paradise].
Yalla na ko yalla yërëm [May Allah take pity on him].
球迷 qiúmí [football fans, crazy about soccer]
A/N: In this story, if it's not in English or Chinese, it's in Wolof, a West African language. Jayne's song is adapted from "The Folksinger's Lament" by David Diamond. The song is a real hoot! (Look it up on youtube.) Thanks to Chezchuckles for helping me figure out how to format the song verses. (If you read in the Castle fandom, you should read her stories; they are superb.) And I do hope you will leave me a review.