The Heart Fountain

 
Death, Feelings, and Fire
The climb takes 5-10 hours for those who see the top.

There are places to practice.
We climb and crawl through narrow spaces.

We practice without water or food.
We climb on sharp rocks and learn to climb, bleeding, and in pain.

We rub our skin with the bark of the felik bush.
It toughens the skin for a few days.

It has a good smell which hides the smell of the blood.
We wear a strong, thin leather on our hands and feet as we practice.

I’ll wear the same when I climb, but it will be soaked in japhla, which will make it glow a little, and give me some light in the dark hole.

A little brother asks me why I don’t wear the leather all over.

“I would sweat fire and be roasted like a Pilkra (a small bird),” I answer smiling.

All make the climb alone.
But we practice with others.

I practice with my sister Shanir.

We have always been like twins.
We have different blood mothers, but were born the same moon.

She climbs better than me, but she will not climb the hole.
Women lead both councils, but they are not chiefs.

“You are too serious, Jaina,” she says as we rest during the training.
“Do you think a chief is serious all the time?”

“Isn’t death serious enough for you, Shanir?”
“I have to be serious to survive.”

“No, Jaina,” she says. “You have to focus.”
“Sometimes you focus by getting rid of emotion.
“Sometimes you focus by welcoming it.”

“I shrink the pain,” she says.
“I hear myself greeting you at the top of the hole.”
“I yell your praises with the rest of the women.”

“You sound like Elder mother,” I say and smile.

She laughs.
Our cuts will not leave scars on our faces or bodies.
Our healers are very powerful.

Shanir teaches me to center on powerful thoughts and feelings.

I see beautiful mountains, waterfalls, and sunsets.

I feel the awe and excitement, the first time I see the fire dreamers dance.
I feel the light pass into me from the love and smiles of my little brothers and sisters.

I hear the roar of men as they come home from a great victory.

I feel Shanir and Elder Mother within me.
These are the people I love most in the world.

And I feel the terror and wonder of being four suns old.
Death steps aside for me that day.

I stand lost, next to a cliff.
Twenty feet away on another cliff, a Kalmil kills an animal and eats it.

A faint orange light drifts around the Kalmil the entire time.
We call it the “orange fire.”

The strength of the Kalmil is so glorious, the most powerful thing I’ve ever seen.
I forget how dangerous he is.

Then the Kalmil looks at me for a long time.
He can not jump the twenty feet, but he can shift into a bird and reach me.

His orange fire grows bright, and he changes into one of the great birds.
I am so frightened that I wet myself, and pass out.

I don’t remember the flight, but Shanir is with Elder Mother when the bird approaches our camp, carrying me.

“The guards raise their spears to drive away the Kalmil,” Shanir tells me later.
“Then they see that it carries a child.”

The Kalmil have a strange smell.
Not like an animal.

They smell like fresh rich dirt, and the air after a storm.
It is a good smell.

If you smell it too long, though, you sleep, and you may be meat.

The Kalmil will attack and kill, and sometimes eat our old people.
Sometimes they show kindness in strange ways.

It puts me down, and elder mother shakes me awake.
Bits of orange fire drift around my hands.

When the guards see that I am all right, they bow to the Kalmil, as we sometimes do to our enemies.
It looks me in the eyes, and flies away.

Elder mother tells the guards that this child will be chief.

They look at the little child who wets himself, and doubt her.
But they don’t laugh.

 
Caves and Climbing
I make the climb in spring, when it is not cold or hot, on the anniversary of my brother’s climb.

It is a dry time.
If it rains when someone is in the hole, they don’t make it out.

Some wear clothing and some do not.

When the clothing is torn it catches on the rocks, but it protects you a little longer.

The caves have old sacred symbols all over the walls.
The fire dreamers say that these symbols will give us strength in our climb, to reach the top, or journey to the next world.

The only light in the cave is from the torches that we carry.

Two of your family walk in the cave with you along with the guards.
Shanir and Elder mother walk with me.

Shanir is like a little Elder Mother.
I think she will lead a council someday.
I hope that I will be chief so I can still argue with her.

At the bottom of the hole, Elder mother and Shanir smear gudra all over the rocks.
It has a powerful smell which fills the hole.
Some say it strengthens the climber.

The five guards greet me in the way of warriors.
We call it trading fire.

One at a time, they stand nose to nose with me, and stare with strength into my eyes.
I pour out my strength into my eyes, like stone.

They smile and wish me well.

Two of them will guard the entrance to the cave.
Two will wait at the top of the hole.

I watch as the guards move the rocks to close me in.

It is before sunrise, but a little light is already in the sky.
Still, not much comes down here.

Near the top of the hole they have set up torches and a metal mirror to concentrate light down the hole.

This will give me light as I climb.

What do I say about the climb?

The climb is, as Elder Mother says, “Great work.”

Although I practiced, it is difficult and frightening.
The long hours of pain are most difficult to bare.

Shanir saves me that day.
My feelings keep me focused, and give me strength to melt the pain and blood.

I climb out of the hole, about 8 hours later.
Not exceptional for those who survive, but I don’t care.
I am happy to be alive.

At the top of the hole, the fire dreamers make designs in the dirt to give the climber extra strength.
They paint the marks with bright colors.

I see the bright colors though my eyes are weak from the climb.
Then I see the guards.
They stand near the top of the hole.

There are two fire dreamers who wait there – always a man and a woman.

The woman is Elder Mother.
Both of the dreamers are full of dreams right now, and the green fire dances around their heads and feet.

My unmated brothers and sisters are there including Shanir.
No other men may be there.

I don’t know why.
It is our way.

Shanir holds water for me while I drink, and she cries.
I cry too, and hug her, staining her clothes with my blood.

We are a powerful and brave people.
We cry freely when the battles are over, and release our joy.

She rubs some blood on her forehead and starts yelling the calls of warrior victory.
The other girls and women rub my blood on their heads and yell with her.

Then Shanir puts a cream on my cuts to stop the bleeding.
Soon a healer comes.

Do I know that day that I will be chief?
No, but for the first time, it feels more than a dream.