Painting by Clement Siatous, a Chagossian artist born in 1947 on the Chagos Islands, a small isolated archipelago in the middle of the Indian Ocean. He spent most of his childhood on the island of Diego Garcia until he and his family were forcibly evicted. The entire population of the islands were expelled by the British Government to make way for a US naval base in 1973.
A Magical Discovery
The boys’ canoe was far off the coast. A simple wooden thing it was, barely floating on the aquamarine surface. Much like an old sea turtle that came up for air and was now ready to plunge into the depths beneath it, but took its time before doing so admiring the seagulls and the warm yellow sun. The old ones appreciate those kinds of things.
The boys would only dive in one at a time, so as to make sure they would resurface. They learned from the faults of their elders, those boys. They weren’t foolish. When one boy was under the other two would wrestle on the wobbly wooden canoe, resulting eventually in one of them falling off into the tropical waters. Warm and comforting, they were. The boys’ immaculate surroundings were their audience, the perfectly proportional palms swayed in their favor, the electric blue and blissful brown birds of paradise shook to the beat of the wobbly canoe as the boys shuffled their feet ever so deliberately.
The sun was magnificent that day, as it was almost all days, but that day it was particularly illuminating for the boy down under. It served as an amazing backdrop for the deep red columns of coral and the sea green sea fans. It lit up the richly orange and majestically purple fringes of the anemones, their bulbs attracting the cleanest of clowns. As the boy swam deeper, his body moved like the waves do, a dolphin at midnight. The angels swam by, their white antennas piercing the water, captivating everything that lived and breathed in the reef for just one long moment.
The angels swam by, their white antennas piercing the water, captivating everything that lived and breathed in the reef for just one long moment.
The boy reached the bottom. He planted his feet in the soft white sand, fearless of urchins or sand sharks. He subdued his urge to breath and calibrated his ears just like his father had taught him to do. His lungs were heavy but he knew how to make them lighter. The electric eels and poisonous jellies that floated by wished they could touch this boy, but he was invincible.
The boys up at the surface wondered what was taking their friend so long. They grew tired of wrestling and resorted to sun bathing. The wobbly wooden canoe swayed less now, only to the pulsations of the ocean.
Down under, the boy let out a few bubbles upon laying his eyes on something quite unusual. He slowly made his way towards it, his body could move only so fast down so deep. This was no piece of coral or type of sea plant. It was no fish and it certainly was no crustacean. This was something the boy had never seen before. It was so out of place yet its green limbs and flat hands were so stoic, so confident in their foreign surroundings. Bunches of bright yellow fingers hung in heaps at the sides of the body. Not a single fish would get close to it, their schools simply swum around it, again and again, trying to determine what exactly this thing was.
The boy had limited time below the surface, so he lunged at the beast and ripped from it one of its yellow fingers. The boy was bold to do so and expected a reaction but there was nothing. The long and round flat and green hands did not reach for him or try to defend the finger which he took. They simply continued swaying in the transparent blue.
The boy had limited time below the surface, so he lunged at the beast and ripped from it one of its yellow fingers.
The boy started his swim up, finger in hand, eager to show the other two what he had found. He took a moment before breaking the surface to make sure his ears would not explode. Again, the boys learned from the mistakes of their elders. They were not foolish, those boys.
The boy from down under broke the surface with an added vengeance, jolting the other two boys awake from their sun induced slumber. Four eyes immediately were drawn to the odd yellow finger the boy from down under yielded in his drying palm.
As soon as the three boys were all in the wobbly wooden canoe, they intensely examined this peculiar thing. It was solely yellow, with the exception of a single brown dot at its base, and a handle at its head. When one boy tried bending the finger, it snapped, revealing the soft flesh that existed beneath the skin.
“Shall we eat it?” said one boy, seeing that the other two were simply dumbfounded.
With a slight second of hesitation, the boy took one half of the finger, peeled away its skin and delicately put the naked flesh in his mouth. It churned under his teeth and the resulting mush melted on his tongue. The boy closed his eyes with delight.
“And?” the other two boys inquired with wide eyes.
“It tastes like home.” responded the boy with a beaming smile.
“Then let’s go fetch some more.” said the boy from down under.
And with that, all three boys plunged into the turquoise water without a moment of doubt, ready to race to the bottom to fetch their newfound treasure. ‘Banana’ they would later call it.
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