Chapter 7 ~ The Masamba

We arrived back at the city and then parted ways. Yohance and Jetta took the twins home while Joel and I went to locate our dad. We found him alone, reading parchments in the back room of the temple.

          “Are you finding anything interesting?” I queried as we sat across the stone table from him. He leaned back, stretched, and then rubbed his eyes.

          “A little. The Harun tend to be dry and long-winded, so it takes time to sift through and find pertinent information. One history or legend is that the first Creator, Obasi, created Fahdamin-Ra and all its inhabitants. He moved back and forth between our world and here by use of the stone.” Dad shook his head. “It sounds like a fairy tale, except here we are.”

          “How did he create this world?” asked Joel.

          “In this account, he didn’t. This world was already here. It goes into great detail - and I mean a lot - about how he formed the Harun from the rock of these mountains, the Masamba from the wood of the trees, and the Jabulani from the clay of the riverbank. That is as far as I got.”

          “He made people out of rocks and stuff? I gotta read that sometime. We found out some things today, too.” Joel was eager to tell about our adventures. He started talking about the apartment, which Dad wanted to see. We left the temple and hiked up to our new lodgings.

          Half a dozen guards and another Historical Scribe waited for us there. To my immense relief, Dad dismissed them all over their polite protests. When it was just the three of us again, we showed him around. Once he admired the outside, we brought him into the main room and told him about the rest of our day.

          “I am curious about the Masamba, and the Jabulani, too,” Dad said.

          “Why don’t we go now, and visit the Masamba?” Joel asked, eager for another adventure.

          “What? In the jungle at night? How would we find them? It’s dark out there.” It was the last thing I wanted to do.

          “We would see their fires from above, when we fly there,” my brother said. “Let’s just drop in.”

          “Maybe another time, kids. It has been a long, exciting day and you need to go to bed now.” Dad said.

          My brother and I both protested. “I don’t feel tired at all.” I said. “You know, nothing made me tired today.”

          “We went all day without eating or drinking anything, either.” Joel added. “I think that Creators don’t need to eat, drink, or sleep. What we can do is fly, like right now.”

          Dad slowly looked convinced, but said, “I don’t know how to fly, son.”

          “It is so easy. We can show you and you’ll be flying in a couple of minutes.”

          “Where is he going to learn?” I countered, pointing to the ceiling.

          My brother was undaunted as he strode outside. “Let’s try it out here, on the balcony.” We joined him on the veranda. Dad went to the edge and looked down.

          “The ground is awfully far down there. Do you think I can learn before I fall and break my neck?”

          “No,” I said.

          “Yes,” Joel said at the same time.

          Dad stood there, thinking. “So, what do I have to do?”

          My father caught on quickly. He was much more careful than Joel and enjoyed flying more than I did, so soon we were zipping along over Harun, the fields, and then arriving at the jungle. I tried to look for lights below but when I did, my stomach would flip. The moons covered everything in their fluid silver light, making the landscape below shimmer. We flew for some time, but we could not locate the Masamba fires.

          “What about the Outsider village? We could go there tonight instead,” I suggested after a while. I would rather go to a civilized village than a dark, scary jungle filled with wild animals and even wilder people.

          Dad shook his head. “I want the Directorate to take us there themselves. Did you see how reluctant Zayas seemed? He needs to answer for what they have done. No, I’m determined to find the Masamba. Let’s fly lower.” We flew so low that our toes brushed the topmost leaves on the trees. It was annoying to have bugs hitting my face and arms. I was careful to keep my mouth closed.

          Dad slowed, flying in a circle. Next, I caught whiffs of wood smoke. All three of us stopped until we hovered in the air. Lights twinkled below my feet. We floated down while being careful not to brush against leaves and branches.

          An unseen man was speaking somewhere beneath us. In front of us to the right was a clearing. There was a fire in the middle and torches around the perimeter of the clearing, lighting the circular area brightly. Off to one side sat four men on large, high-backed chairs. There was a fifth chair in the middle and the man standing in front of it was the speaker, whose voice we could hear. A single man sat in a smaller, less ornate seat off to their right. There was a crowd of people facing them, sitting on the ground and watching.

          I wanted to stop and hear what the man was saying, but my father kept descending. We followed Dad as he touched down in front of the crowd and heard their gasps of astonishment. The speaker stopped and there was complete silence.

Though our dropping in was unexpected, the Masamba did not pause but took immediate action. People melted away into the darkness until the leaders were the only ones left facing us.

          The speaker stared at us for a few moments, which was intimidating. He was a little taller than my father and massive with muscle and bulk. Like Hunter, his chest was bare, but around his waist was a type of skirt made from narrow, braided strips of leather, and a fluffy fur neck-piece covered his shoulders. He was scary. On his head he wore the head of a snarling baboon, a huge knife hung from his belt, and he held a yard long, narrow club. I wished we had never decided to come down and face him. The fire reflected in his deep-set eyes as he fingered one of the braids of his long beard.

The other four men were dressed similarly and they glared at us. The lone man to the right got out of his chair and came closer to the group. He was as massive, but unlike the others, he did not wear a baboon head or a braided leather skirt. There were tufts of tawny fur woven in his hair, the same as Hunter. He had a beard, but it was shorter and not braided. Instead of scowling at us like the rest, his eyes rested on us with wonder. If he had been alone, our reception might have been friendlier.

My father stood straight and tall, not intimidated by the leader, or at least, he did not show it. “What are you doing here? You have invaded the serenity of our gathering,” the man in charge said.

“We are the Creators and have arrived at Fahdamin-Ra after our long absence. Since our return, we are meeting each tribe.”

“My tribe does not believe in Creators. Leave now, and do not bother us again.” The man turned his back on Dad, and plunked down in his chair.

Dad glanced back at us and then folded his arms. “I am not leaving and neither are my children. We have come a long way to visit you, so why don’t you make the effort to get to know us? After all, who else but Creators would visit you by flying?”

“You are not Creators. You are magicians, who used a trick,” he spoke loudly, playing to the unseen audience of his people, who listened in the dark.

My father studied the man for a moment. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned about being rude to Creators, with the powers we possess?”

The man looked bored. “There are no such beings as the Creators.”

Dad scowled. “Well, we will just have to convince you.” For a reply, the man lifted an eyebrow and smirked toward his friends. My father stared at the leader and the leader’s chair rose from the ground. The man was jolted, but tried to cover it up.

“It is still a trick,” he called, from twelve feet over our heads. “You cannot convince me that easily.” Dad shrugged his shoulders, and lowered the man to the ground. The leader’s expression did not change, but he stood up and moved away from his seat.

“Bring someone to me that is sick or wounded, and I will cure them,” My father spoke matter-of-factly.

The leader held up his stick and gazed at it when he said, “We do not have any sick or wounded people. We cure them at the shrine.”

“Let me have your knife and your arm. I will make a cut and then heal it.”

The men snorted with laughter at this proposal, but Hunter stalked out of the darkness and up to Dad. He handed my father the large knife that hung from his belt. Dad took it and grasped Hunter’s outstretched hand. Gritting his teeth, he slashed Hunter’s arm as the warrior stood there, unmoving. Blood gushed out; dripping on the ground as Hunter took back his knife and returned it to its sheath, his movements calm and steady. Dad traced the wound with one finger, making the blood and the cut disappear. Hunter put his arm up in the air so all could see that the cut was gone and then faded back into the darkness beyond the circle.

The leader leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. “Another trick. It just proves that you know magic.”

“Then you suggest a challenge.” Dad stood there, arms at his sides waiting, as the men huddled in a conference. After a while, they went back and sat down wearing identical smirks. The leader did not say anything but seemed to be waiting for something. Dad did not move, but Joel and I looked around wondering what was going to happen.

We did not hear them come until they were almost upon us. A dozen or more leopards dashed into the light. Dad crouched, ready to leap into flight and I cringed, throwing my arms up to ward them off. Joel whistled and one leopard bounded to him, knocking him over. Dad and I reached out to grab the animal but Joel was laughing and rubbing her fur. “Harriet, you lummox, get off my stomach, you weigh a ton.” He grunted as he pushed her off him. The other leopards ran in circles, uncertain what to do. Dad touched them one by one, so my brother and I copied him. The big cats calmed and sat at our feet, with one sitting directly on mine!

“Is this all you can come up with?” It was Dad’s turn to laugh. The baboon men looked annoyed as they got back in a huddle. The lone man just stared at us in wonder.

After a long while, men broke apart and went back to their chairs. “Come back tomorrow, and we will have a more appropriate challenge for you.”

“I accept.” Dad turned away and rose in the air. Joel and I followed. Once we got above the jungle, Joel suggested that we go for a spin. Dad agreed, so outvoted, I tagged along.

We cruised over the stone circle, and saw the smooth stones reflecting the moonlight. We headed east and found Jabulan beside a bend in the river. It was a village of circular huts set in concentric circles with a much larger building in the middle. No one was stirring, but rafts floated off a dock on the river and smoke curled up from a structure that stood alone, a little way from rest of the village. Light streamed from the open sides so we went lower, and spotted a woman adding wood to a fire underneath a large kiln.

She wore a vivid print top and a wrap skirt an equally vivid print, though they did not match each other. A scarf that covered most of her hair was another pattern, with its own intense color and design. She finished her task and vanished back into the darkness, but we heard her begin to sing:

Lady Creator, mother of all,

Thank you for this night, and the sleep you give us,

For the stars and the moons that watch overhead,

Thank you for the day, and the light you bring,

For our willing bodies and the work we do.

Let us be one with your creation

As we use the gift to create ourselves.

Let us see the beauty of every living thing.

Thank you for the land and the sky

Thank you for the plants and the trees

Thank you for the fish in the water

Thank you for the birds that fly

Thank you for the beasts of the land

Let us be one with your creation

As we use the gift to create ourselves.

Her strong and melodious voice floated up to us, as we hovered above her in the dark. I wished I could hear it in her language instead of automatically hearing it in mine. At the end of the song, she did not reappear, so we drifted away and followed the line of the river. It sparkled below us, finally blending into an ocean.

We landed on glowing white sand. The beach stretched for miles, lined with palm trees that waved and whispered in the wind. I heard a splash and my brother was swimming in the glistening ocean. I pulled off my dress and headscarf before leaping in and joining him. I enjoyed the warmth of the water and the fun of swimming in my underwear. Dad sprawled on the sand, watching us and smiling. He was not fond of swimming. Mom was the one who always swam with us, gliding through the water like a seal. I suddenly missed her very much, so I climbed out of the water and sat by Dad.

“I wish Mom were here.”

Dad nodded as he pulled a strand of seaweed out of my wooly hair. “I do, too. Maybe, after I figure out what I’m doing here, I can go back and get her.”

“Really? That would be great.” I splashed back in the water to tell my brother the good news.

We swam for a long time, never getting tired, cold, or thirsty. The sunrise turned the color of the sky to salmon, and Dad called us out of the water, and told us it was time to leave. We flew back to Harun and the flight dried our salt stiffened clothes. No one was there when we arrived, so we slipped inside, unnoticed. We took turns bathing in the big tub and then decked ourselves out in another change of clothes and different jewelry.

When the Harun Directorate arrived at our doorstep, we were standing in the main room ready to go, not sure of what we were going to find.

This is the last chapter that I am posting. For my book, "Travels to Fahdamin-Ra", you can buy it at Navarone Books, Smashwords or Amazon. I will post when it is available in soft cover. Thanks for reading! Navarone Books Link, Smashwords link, Amazon Kindle link

Celestine of the Travels to Fahdamin-Ra Series

Celestine is the fourteen-year-old girl who starts the Fahdamin-Ra series by being the narrator of the first book. She is based on my daughter Calllista. Like my daughter, Celestine is pretty, a little bossy with her brother, and very observant. She is discerning, picking up a lot of information about people, who are mostly unaware of her observations. She has a lot of common sense and is strong, but sometimes, like her brother Joel, she sometimes wishes that she was not a Creator in Fahdamin-Ra, with so many people depending on her.

Celestine is mature for her age, and that is why it was easy for her to make friends with Jetta and Ka-puki, who are both several years older than her. She makes many friends, but she has people whom she does not like. One of those people was Prince Kayin of Harun. Hopefully, the reader does not blame Celestine for not liking the prince, with his chauvanistic attitude toward women. She was irritated by him and finally, accidently, turned him into a pig. It was then that everyone realized that she was a Creator as well as her brother Joel.

I suppose that you could say that Celestine is a happy person who generally likes everyone as long as they act decently. If they are awful, Celestine does not like them and does not get over that very quickly!

Something that Celestine is having a problem dealing with is her friend, Chi. Normally, she would probably like him, because he is sixteen, handsome, and interested in all sorts of things. However, he has a terrible crush on Celestine, which makes her feel awkward because she is a Creator. Because Fahdamin time runs faster than here, Chi will be 60 years old by the time that she reaches 20. It also does not feel right that she has so much power over him. When he touches her, it is like getting a small electric shock, and Celestine instantly knows what he is thinking. She likes him as a friend, but she wants to give him the message that she is not interested in romance.

Most of the time, Celestine is happy visiting the tribes, checking on the cats she created for the Harun, and having adventures. She liked staying with the different tribes in the first book and seeing how they live, and loved traveling across the savannah in the second book, because they were exploring and having a lot of fun times. I can hint that in the third book, things get tougher, but she still gets to go on adventures, this time as a voyage to the lands in the north part of Fahdamin-Ra.

Book Review - Vintage Veronica

I just finished reading "Vintage Veronica" by Erica S. Perl, which is the first novel published by the author. When I was at the library, looking through the Young Adult books (where else?) and I saw the book. It grabbed my attention because I like vintage clothing, and when I started reading the first few pages, I saw that it was about an overweight high school girl named Veronica that works at a vintage clothing store. I was sold, because I could relate to it, having been a fat girl that dressed strangely in high school.

I like the humor that Perl shows throughout the book,weaving it in an out of the story that deals with Veronica's ups and downs. She develops most of the characters so well that you can see Bill, the hippie type, surprisingly insightful salesperson; Eva, the vicious girl that everyone pretends to like because they are terrified of her; and Lenny, the strange boy with the reptile pets who seems to be one kind of person and then another.

Veronica is down on herself at first because of not having friends, being overweight with a disapproving mom, and having her parents go through a divorce.

I was put off by profanity and pot smoking, but I still reccomend this book to anyone who likes Young Adult literature. Even if you were an attractive person in high school, you will find this book enjoyable and it gives you something to ponder when you're done reading it.

Qui-ana, Head of the Jabulani Tribe

The Jabulani are ruled over by five women, called the Becca. Today, I will be talking about their leader, History Teller Qui-ana. Yes, all of the five Becca have titles for the jobs that they have in the tribe. Qui-ana is the most important, because she is the person who records the history and is able to recite it. In a tribe where no one reads and writes, it is a very important position. There were many tribes in Africa where the language was not written down, and special people were appointed to keep the tribe's history in their heads.

When a History Teller gets old enough to start forgetting the history, she retires and a new one replaces her. Even though Qui-ana is the leader of the tribe right now, there is an older woman who used to have her job, and there are several young girls who are learning. Once Qui-ana gets too old or forgetful for her job, the tribe holds a contest, with the young women History Teller apprentices competing for the job. The Becca and the adults in the tribe listen to the history, as each apprentice recites it individually. They also look for someone with leadership qualities, because the History Teller is also the leader of the tribe.

Qui-ana's mother was not a History Teller, but as a girl, Qui-ana showed responsibility and levelheadedness at such an early age, that the Becca noticed her. She is a strong and caring leader, and takes it personally when the "Creator-Creature" came and trashed Jabulan on several occasions while she was the head of the tribe. If she has a weakness, it is Cat-ara. Somehow, Qui-ana never found a man that suited her to marry, and she regretted not having a child. When Cat-ara's mother disappeared and Cat-ara was left an orphan, Qui-ana was happy to take her in. The problem is that Qui-ana has a soft heart when it comes to children, and she let Cat-ara have her way, which made the girl become an annoying bully in the process.

Qui-ana is close to her younger sister, Artist Teacher Fayola. Their mother got ill and died when they were 12 and 10. Their father did the best he could for them, aided by women in the tribe, until he died from a heart attack when his daughters were barely in their 20's. The two sisters were always close and are usually found in each other's company.

Besides being the History Teller and the leader of the tribe, Qui-ana has her own garden which she tends, and she goes fishing in the river when she wants to add fish to her diet. As their leader, she is expected to work harder than anyone else in the tribe, which means providing her own food. The Jabulani eat vegetables,peas and beans, fruit, nuts, and various kinds of fish and shellfish. They harvest salt from the ocean and use it to cure some of the fish that they catch. In addition, they like to grow their own spices and herbs. Hot peppers are a favorite additon to many of their dishes. The Jabulani butcher a sheep for special occasions, and the meat is roasted before it is shared by the tribe.

Qui-ana helps to beat the flax fiber and process it until it becomes linen, and then she weaves it and makes her own clothing. Usually the husband does this, but since she is not married, she is expected to do it herself. At sixteen, Cat-ara is old enough to make clothing for them both, but she only makes items for herself, and Qui-ana does not scold her for her selfishness.

Qui-ana and the rest of the Jabulani tribe have a fluctuating relationship with the Bridges family. At first, they were suspicious of Raymond and the children, because the tribe thought that the Bridges were in league with the Creator-Creature. After Raymond changed the soil back to fertile ground and Joel and Celestine created the ducks, the tribe realized how the Bridges were trying to help. They also liked Valerie, whom they recognised as a fellow creative person. Of course, all that goes down the tubes when the Creators befriend the "Creator-Creature" and try to change the Jabulani's minds about him.

No matter what happens, Qui-ana will lead them through.

The Harun of Fahdamin-Ra

The third original tribe of Fahdamin-Ra is the Harun. They were formed from the rock in the mountains and they have some rock-like traits; they do not change easily, they are not emotional people, and not very imaginative. The tribe is named Harun, the city is named Harun, and the mountains that the city is carved from are called the Harun Mountains. The Harun are loyal subjects,keeping the Creator's apartment ready and writing down their history as if they were expecting the Creators to show up unexpectedly.

The tribe is ruled over by a king. He has two advisors, the City Director and the Tribe Historian, who help him rule. The City Director keeps track of the Harun bartering system. Each Harun from age 16 and up has a job, which the City Director assigns after reviewing that person's talents. The city clerks keep track of the amount each person works (one pebble a day, for example) against how many goods that worker takes from the market (pebbles charged against that person's account.)Like the other Fahdamin tribes, the Harun do not use money, or know about the concept.

The Tribe Historian supervises the Historical Scribes, who copy down the Harun history so that each person in the tribe has a copy. The more junior scribes make the paper and carve writing sticks of graphite for their senior scribes. Historical Scribes are the teachers of the tribe and each scribe has a few students. They also keep track of family history and geneology, so when the City Director offers several bride choices to eligible Harun men, both the Tribe Historian and the City Director have combed the family trees and found the three best choices to offer each bachelor.

The King is the judge, law maker, and the head of the tribe. All disputes are brought before him and he presides over all ceremonies. When the prince has a son that reaches 16 years old, he becomes the king and his father is called "Father King." The Father King helps his son by going around and seeing how everyone in the tribe is getting along, and then brings his concerns to his son. The king usually heeds his father's advice.

The Harun tribe is very structured, and it is reflected by their clothing. Children wear solid colored clothing until they are 16 and assigned a profession. Once they start a job, they wear clothing with two colored, wide stripes. As people are promoted in their jobs, they are allowed to wear clothing with more stripes of color. The King has clothing with 8 colors of stripes, and is the only one allowed to have so many colors. The fabric that he wears has varying widths, as does the garments for senior people in high positions in Harun. Just by looking at what a Harun is wearing tells you their job and how senior they are in their profession.

All Harun adults wear hats, which vary from simple, folded hats to tri-cornered, tall hats worn by senior officials. All hats have to have three corners, which is tradional in Harun, because their favorite number is three. Men wear a sash over one shoulder; over the left shoulder for married men and over the right for single men. Men wear more jewelry and decorate their hats and clothing with more feathers and jewels than the women do.

Unlike the other tribes, Harun are vegetarians and their food supply relies solely on their crops. They are excellent farmers. They also grow herbs, plants used for dyes and medicines, and cotton. The Harun mountains are surrounded by level, fertile plains, where they have their gardens. Guards are posted high up in towers in order to watch over the crops by day, and to patrol by night when the Creators are not visiting.

After the Creators returned to Fahdamin-Ra, the Harun were the ones who faced the most changes. The Bridges family thinks that the changes were for the good of everyone, but do the Harun agree?

The Masamba of Fahdamin-Ra

It is funny how my daughter, son, and husband each have a favorite tribe of Fahdamin-Ra. My son's favorite is the Jabulani, though he assures me that he does NOT want to wear a skirt like the Jabulani men. My daughter's favorite is the Masamba.

When Obasi created the Masamba, he took wood from the trees of the jungle and carved it into people, who he brought to life. The Masamba live in the trees, bury their dead at the roots of trees, and like to leave as secretly as possible in the midst of the jungle. They learn how to read and write as children, mostly so they can learn their history. They do not have very much use for names, so they have very short names themselves, with two or three letters.

The Masamba believe that men and women balance each other out, so they traditionally have a man and a woman who are married serve as chiefs of the tribe. There are hunters and gatherers who balance each other out to provide the tribe with food. In the second book, Across the Savannah the group is led by a female hunter who is the best tracker in the tribe. All hunters and some gatherers carry "spirit pouches" which are drawstring bags attached to their belts. The bags have little items that mean something to the person who carries them. Hunters sometimes go out in groups, but many times they go out alone, and they feel that if those items are with them, no harm will befall them. Gatherers typically go out in groups and do not get lost from each other, and there is safety in numbers.

Fahdamin-Ra did not originally have leopards. They were created and given to the Masamba by one of the first Creators, to assist them with hunting. The leopards are not considered pets, and are not given names. Joel named Harriet, but she was referred to by the tribe as "Tor's leopard." The Masamba do not call them cats. When a boy or girl is around 17 years of age and wants to be a hunter, they are allowed to select a cub. It is important that a male hunter is given a female cat, and vice versa for a female hunter, in order to keep the balance. Chi is approaching the right age to have a leopard cub, which he will need to train.

The Masamba move three times a year, but their primary home is in the jungle by the stone circle. They have houses there which are built in the trees. At their Dry Season Quarters, they live by a river, on platforms that are high in tall trees. During the Rainy Season, they move into trees that are up against a cliff. The trees look large, but they are actually a bunch of trees that were originally planted in a circle and have grown together.They live there for about two months. At the end of the wettest part of the rainy season, they return to the main quarters, where they live for 6 months, completing the 10 month Fahdamin year.

Meet the Tribes of Fahdamin-Ra: The Jabulani

The Jabulani tribe is one of the three original tribes of Fahdamin-Ra. When the first Creator, Obasi, made the people for the tribe that he brought to life, he shaped them out of clay, so the Jabulani are most comfortable living by the river. They have rounded, pleasant features and are mostly stocky. They find eyebrows distracting so all of the people in the tribe shave or pluck out their eyebrows, which (they think) gives them a smoother look.

The Jabulani love color. That is why they love to make fabric in bright colors and patterns. They commonly have headwraps or hats that are one pattern, a shirt that is another, and a skirt that is a third, unrelated pattern and/or color. I say skirt, because both men and women wear skirts and short sleeved or sleevless tops. Women wear headwraps (the larger the better) and men wear smaller headwraps or hats. Girls and boys are generally bareheaded until they get into their late teens. Men and women alike also dye their lips all sorts of colors, usually their favorite.

The Jabulani are governed by a group of women called the Becca. The leader is the History Teller, who has the important job of remembering the tribal history. It is an important job because the members of the tribe don't read or write, but have amazing memories. The History Teller trains other women and girls to remember and recite the tribal history as well, in case something happens to her.

Another member of the Becca is the Singer Poet. She composes songs, especially to the Mother Creator, and ususally leads the worship at dawn and the second service at sunset. The sun represents their god, who the Jabulani believe created the world and the other creators, including Obasi. The Jabulani have poems and songs for every occasion, from celebrating the harvest, weddings, births, deaths, and every occasion in between.

The Animal Guardian is another Becca that supervises the animals that belong to the tribe. No one person owns an animal. It is a busy job, because the Jabulani have dogs, sheep, and ducks. The Animal Guardian makes sure all of the animals are healthy and fed. She shears the sheep so that the tribe can use the wool to make rugs and blankets, and for wool to weave with linen so they have warmer, water resistant clothing when the weather becomes rainy and cooler. She collects the right amount of eggs from the ducks for the tribe, so that they have them to eat but so there are enough left to hatch. She trains dogs to guard the sheep, and when a dog gets too old to do that, she goes to the savannah and calls the wild Wolofo dog pack, selecting a puppy to take back to the tribe.

The Farming Guardian oversees the plowing of the fields and growing of the crops, which the Jabulani do together. She rotates the crops, deciding what will be planted where, and oversees the fertizing and weeding. She also knows where to gather fruit and other things that grow wild, and when they are ripe and ready to pick.

The last Becca is the Artist Teacher. All the Jabulani weave, dye, and sew their own clothes, makes their own pottery, and weaves their own baskets. She teaches all the tribe how to do those things. She and her apprentices have the job of taking a person's body when they die and encasing it in clay, sculpting the outside to resemble the person. After the clay dries and they fire it and glaze it, the statue is ready to be put in the graveyard, standing where it can face the rising sun.

The Jabulani women tend to be loud, talkative, and outgoing. The men tend to be quiet and easy going. All the Jabulani love children, and children missing a parent are especially pitied and rather spoiled. Orphans are usually adopted by someone who has not had a chold of their own. The older people of the tribe watch over the little children, helped by children that are pre-teens and younger.

The tribe thinks of themselves as a large family, calling each other "aunt", "uncle", "brother", and "sister". The women live in a hut with their little children and their daughters, while their husbands live next door with their sons. The tribe cooks their two meals a day together and generally shares everything. There is very little privacy, and even their huts have openings with no doors. If you are outgoing and like women running everything, this is the tribe for you!

Joel Bridges From the Fahdamin-Ra Series

Joel Bridges, along with his sister Celestine, are the main characters in the Travels to Fahdamin-Ra series. He is an energetic 12-year-old boy who loves animals and always seems to be running headlong into trouble.

Like Celestine, Joel is an unusual character in young adult fantasy books because he is brown. When he and his sister are whisked away to Fahdamin-Ra, he adapts quickly to the situation, and is eager to explore, even if that means following a leopard into the brush. When he creates his dragon, Cheswick, it is another example of Joel's love of animals, but he has not stopped to think of the consequences. While crossing the savannah, he has time to regret creating the mythical creature and bringing it to life.

I based Joel's character on my son, Toliver. It was relatively easy for me to work with the characters of Celestine and Joel, because they are based on my children. Joel and Celestine's relationship with each other was easy to establish after years of observing my kids. I like the way Celestine alternates between being protective of her younger brother and being exasperated with him. I like Joel's energy and enthusiasm, and the way that he mostly complies with his older sister.

I hope that readers pick up on the feeling that he was close to Father King Sudi, and that is why Joel carries a little elephant figure that Sudi gave him in his Spirit Pouch. One of my favorite parts of Across the Savannah (if authors are allowed to have a favorite part in their books) is when Joel looks through his Spirit Pouch, examining each item that makes him think about some of the people he cares about. I think that men would like it if Spirit Pouches caught on - instead of a bulky wallet and keys making unsightly bulges in their pants pockets, they could have a spirit pouch dangling off of their belt.

It was hard at first to have Joel narrate the book, because I wrote it in first person and I did not want him to sound exactly like his sister. It took a little experimenting, but Joel's style is less descriptive, and more action. Once I developed the style and became accustomed to writing that way, it was fun. I always like getting to the action parts, building up the scene. Joel's enthusiasm and energy makes it easy for me to jump into the action.

If you are a reader that likes Joel, you will see much more of him in the upcoming two books. The fourth book in the series will feature Joel telling the story, which I hope to make humorous.

Meet Celestine From the Fahdamin-Ra Series

Celestine Bridges is a fourteen-year-old girl who is one of the main characters in Travels to Fahdamin-Ra series. She narrates the story in the first and third books, and her brother, Joel, narrates in the second and fourth.

Celestine is a little different from most of the major female characters in popular books right now. She is brown because she comes from an interracial family - her dad is black and her mom is white. The Bridges family is closely knit, and when Celestine and Joel travel to the world of Fahdamin-Ra, they go back home and get their father, so he can help. They still have a lot of adventures on their own, but from time to time, they check back with their parents.

Celestine makes friends easily, though when she encountered the Harun tribe, it was difficult at first. The Harun are male oriented, and generally look down on females. Celestine was raised by her parents to believe that females are equal to males. After an embarrassing incident with the Harun's Prince Kayin, the men of Harun gave her the respect that she deserved.

In Across the Savannah, Celestine is seen through Joel's eyes as he narrates the story. She seems capable and calm for the most part. Because she is older, she takes more responsibility for their group as they travel across the savannah, and after they arrive at the abandoned city of Afiba as well as on the island of Yahimba.

Celestine likes to observe people and the places that she visits, and stays busy being the steadying, guiding force for her younger brother Joel while they are visiting Fahdamin-Ra. She is open to new things, but does not particularly like flying because of heights, and when provoked, she is as fierce as a lionness protecting her cubs. She gets along with mostly everyone in Fahdamin-Ra except for Prince Kayin, who she finds obnoxious, Cat-ara, an annoying, abrasive girl from the Jabulani tribe, and Dede, a Harun girl who thinks herself above Celestine's Masamba friends.

Celestine has a strange relationship with Chi, a Masamba boy who is around two years older than she. He is a nice, handsome guy and fun to be around except that he has a crush on her, which is obvious to everyone, including Celestine. She is not planning on having a relationship with Chi because she is a Creator and he is one of her subjects, but Chi does not want to believe that.

Celestine is fourteen, and ready to enter high school in the fall. When the reader first meets her in Travels to Fahdamin-Ra, it is in the summer. The Bridges family soon realizes that time runs around three times as fast in Fahdamin-Ra than it does here, so the first three books take place during that summer.

Celestine is based on my daughter Callista at that age. I hope you like her as much as I liked writing about her.