The Currency of Story
What I love about story is its universality. Not everyone in the world has high speed broadband, tigers, heated toilet seats or Feddo frogs but no matter where you go in the world, everyone has stories.
The children from the Waiheke Kindergarten helped ‘cash me up’ before I left New Zealand. We looked at a map and I explained I was going to visit friends in East Timor and shared with them the Timorese Creation myth (see previous blog). I asked them if they would like to create/tell some stories for me to take to share with the people I met. Four year olds are the perfect ambassadors when you’re visiting a place where you don’t have a shared language – they think and story tell visually. Amongst the story treasures I was gifted, was a map drawn by Tom showing Waiheke, the airport and East Timor, ensuring my safe return. Others included stories about the weather, crocodiles, the beach, birds and since my friends in Timor Leste were involved with working with the local community developing projects for sustainable living, the Kindy gave me a home made book outlining their own sustainability projects.
Off I set, from Island to Island, to engage in the ancient trade of story.
My exchange and sharing of stories stretched from the capital of Timor, Dili, to the remote enclave of Oe Cusse, which is where I spent most of my time. It was a rather spontaneous and informal affair, which was facilitated by the sharing of a shadow puppet adaptation of ‘The Three Billy Goat’s Gruff.’ I’d learnt my lesson in Indonesia 15 years earlier when I translated the ‘The Three Little Pigs’ into Bahasa. Neither the pigs nor the ‘anjing besar’ (the big dog) proved a hit with Hindi and Muslim listeners.
Oe Cusse, was heaving with goats – they seemed and natural choice and of course the ‘lafeak’, the crocodile would be the perfect villain. Ou Cusse even had a famous bridge ‘ The Bangla Bridge’! The scene was set for ‘Iha bibi nain tiga iha Oe Cusse’ – the three goats of Oe Cusse.
With help from my friends, the story was translated into a mix of Tetun, Bahasa and Portuguese that I stumbled my way through. The shadow puppet theatre and puppets were created using flotsam collected from the beach, a cardboard box divested of its contents (pig poo) and discarded manila folders from the local Caritas office. The transformation did have a Cinderella quality as the whimsical shadow puppets came to life, illuminated by a head torch and two candles.
My audiences were poached from all walks. A local woman who came to help with housework and her young daughter, the night watchman, the children as they passed on the road, the staff at the my friends place of work, the children attending a market day at the Alola Foundation in Dili, the guide at the local arts co operative and various expats in cafes and restaurants. After sharing the story, the audience were offered story pictures from the children at the Waiheke Kindergarten and asked if they would like to create one in exchange. In return for storms, beaches and birds, the children I met drew fish, houses, Christmas Trees, sunrises, gardens and families.
When I return to the island, I’ll take the story pictures back to the Kindy to share with the children and who knows perhaps the exchange will continue – free of currency convertors and fluctuating exchange rates – connecting through the currency of story.
