The men gestured for me to wander around and rest for a bit; they would be ready to eat soon.
Before long, the women and children of the tribe carried bundles of firewood on their backs, their faces beaming with happy smiles, and walked towards the central courtyard of the tribe.
The men weren't idle either. Under the glow of the blue fluorescent light, some began to cut the meat in their hands with bamboo knives, while others helped to stack firewood in the open space in the center of the tribe, seemingly preparing for a bonfire.
I, on the other hand, was quite content to be idle on the sidelines. I had originally intended to help them with something.
But the locals all smiled and declined my offer. They told me to rest, that the work was simple, and that they could do it very well.
Seeing their reaction, I didn't press the matter further. So I smiled and tried to be more approachable, hoping to chat with the children from the local tribe.
When I first arrived, these children were only five or six years old, the oldest being just over ten. Their first feeling upon seeing me was fear.
It's understandable that they would be afraid when they first meet someone of Asian descent like me, whose skin color is different from theirs.
But afterwards, they always greeted me with smiles and interacted with everyone. As if there was no threat, these children's natural instincts were unleashed once again.
They started playing and frolicking around me like the other kids, looking at my flashy python-print leather jacket with envy and curiosity.
So this is what the adults think of the gods!
A five- or six-year-old child and his companion exchanged surprised words.
"Why does this deity's body look like a giant snake from the mountains? Those patterns look so scary."
A little girl covered her eyes with her hands, peeking through a slit with her fingers at Tang Yi's python skin, and spoke to another girl beside her.
Another girl nodded, somewhat frightened, and together with her close friend, they held hands and followed at a distance behind the group.
"Look! The god has two big eyes on his butt! How amazing!"
At this moment, the oldest child in the tribe, who was probably around ten years old, exclaimed and pointed at the two holes exposed on Tang Yi's buttocks.
...
The two holes here were made by me sliding down the mountain quickly when I was trying to avoid a mudslide.
At that moment, several children curiously circled around my buttocks, and the oldest child even mischievously poked at the two holes on my buttocks with his fingers.
Before I knew it, with a tearing sound during our tug-of-war, the hole on my left buttock got pulled even bigger.
This terrified the children; they thought they had pulled a hole in my bottom and immediately turned and ran away.
One of the girls, acting like a little adult, stood with her hands on her hips, pointed at the boy who was a head taller than her, and muttered a string of words, looking quite angry.
The boy, who was just a child who had made a mistake, lowered his head and listened to the girl who was pointing at him with her hands on her hips scolding him.
The girl then ran away, and a moment later a dark-skinned middle-aged woman hurriedly came over with her.
The little girl pouted, pointed to the boy who was standing silently to the side, then pointed in my direction, and began to complain to the woman next to her.
That roughly means that he's the one who tore the god's buttocks raw, and now the god's buttocks must be in excruciating pain!
The woman saw that the snakeskin on my buttocks had indeed been torn open, and the snakeskin was still hanging down.
She immediately agreed with the girl's statement; in her view, the snakeskin on my body was the same as my skin.
After all, they had never seen what clothes looked like; they themselves used grass skirts to cover their bodies.
It was obvious that both children belonged to this woman, but her first reaction was not to blame the children.
Instead, she was terrified and pulled her two children to kneel down before me, repeatedly kowtowing and begging for my forgiveness.
Seeing this scene, I was both amused and exasperated, amused by the two mischievous kids. Having been here for so long, this was the first time I'd experienced such pure and genuine affection.
I naturally wouldn't argue with a child over such trivial matters, so I smiled and asked the middle-aged woman to take care of the child first.
The woman was still hesitant to get up, fearing that the gods would be angry and take their anger out on her children.
The woman gestured to me that she would do anything as long as her child was spared, and that I should punish her if I wanted.
I shook my head at the middle-aged woman and pulled her up from the ground. Then I turned my back to her and pulled on the snakeskin to show that I wouldn't feel any pain or bleed.
My intention was to tell them that I was wearing clothes, and that this would not harm my body.
But my gesture only made things worse. In their understanding, it meant that all the blood in my buttocks had drained away, and now my skin couldn't even feel pain.
The woman immediately mouthed a look of terror.
The next second, the already fast-paced gibberish, now under pressure, turned into a barrage of attacks on me like a machine gun.
The woman was explaining something to me, spitting as she spoke, completely disregarding whether I could understand what she was saying.
My butt is bleeding all out, is this really going to happen?
The woman was about to kneel down before me again, but I smiled wryly and stopped her.
I can't take off the python skin yet to prove that it's just clothing like their grass skirts.
Because my python skin coat is a one-piece design, and my lower half is always hanging open, I felt it was better to avoid doing something so indecent late at night.
In the end, I had to come up with a compromise: it was impossible for them to understand the concept of clothes in a short time, so I just needed to give them a way out and make amends.
So I got too lazy to explain any further and told the woman that I needed two pieces of leather to mend my buttocks.
To my surprise, the women could understand my sewing movements with a needle, perhaps because they had also used such a primitive sewing tool.
Although the woman was somewhat puzzled about how to use needles to repair her bottom, she nodded and carefully pointed to her child.
The meaning was clear: would this spare her child? Without hesitation, I smiled and nodded at her.
The woman was so moved she almost cried, thinking to herself how generous and easy-going this deity was.
A moment later, the woman handed me a large piece of leather that looked like deerskin and asked if this leather was acceptable.
I smiled and nodded, indicating that I was very satisfied with the leather.
The woman's tense nerves finally relaxed. Looking at the boy not far away, who was looking down at them, she now held a stick in her hand.
Next comes the childhood feeling I'm most familiar with: the heartwarming scene of being caught by my parents for sneaking into an internet cafe to play games, and being forced to practice long-distance running with a stick in my hand.
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