Ravi the Unknown Prince (18 page)

And then there was a knock at the door and I got out of bed. Habib was standing outside.

He greeted me and then he said, “Master Hasan, prayer in twenty minutes; the last room on your right.”

I said thank you and hurried back into the room to perform ablutions and wore a dressing gown that was hanging behind the door over my pyjamas and headed for the prayer room.

Habib was standing in the door-way waiting, and uncle, the two women and one man were all reading from their Quran.

I greeted them as I entered and prayed the first part of my Salah [prayer].

Uncle told me to read the second part of the prayer and he stood next to me with the two other men on each side of us and the two women in the row behind us.

This part of the prayer was read out loudly for the congregation. At the end of the Salah uncle asked me where I learnt to read like that.

Then I told him when I was in Egypt I went to learn every week-end and now I practised with my sons.

When the others had gone Habib brought us a morning cup of tea and left us; uncle sat on a stool and I sat next to him on the floor.

As we drank our tea he told me that I would have to learn to fly the Desert Queen and he would get Alam to give me flying lessons.

Alam had taught him but now he did not fly the air-craft in case he became dizzy and lost control.

Afterwards we went back to our room for a rest before our eight o’clock breakfast.

When I got back into bed I realised that I had not telephoned Muna and I was sure that she was getting anxious.

I got dressed and went down-stairs early and waited for uncle to ask his permission to use the telephone.

While I was waiting I noticed our family tree with all my ancestors on the wall next to the dining area.

I did not see that when I went around the first time, my great grand-mother Razia’s father was a King and her mother was a Princess.

She came from a long line of royal family from various Provinces in India and Afghanistan.

My name was there as Prince Hasan Ravi but my wife and children were not added to that tree as yet.

When uncle came downstairs he saw me looking at the ancestral tree and he told me to give Habib the names of my children and my wife and he would add them on to the family tree.

Then I asked his permission to use the telephone to ring Muna. When I rang, she told me that she was listening out all night for the telephone to ring and to find out whether I was alright.

I told her that I should be back soon with my uncle as he was returning with me for a quick visit and to meet her.

When Alam arrived, we all had breakfast together and I noticed Habib was smiling more often.

Perhaps uncle had told him that he and his wife’s job were secure; about nine o’clock we were all packed and ready to leave in the Land Rover.

Uncle sat at the back with Habib and I sat with Alam, who was driving; the chauffeur had a day off as he was not invited on this tour.

Habib’s wife Sultana was left in charge of the staff, and there were two guards on duty.

Alam drove us to the village for me to look at the situation and what took place in the Kingdom’s every-day life.

Then we headed into the town centre and to one of uncle’s offices where his staffs were busy interviewing people who wanted to come into Manaos to live and work.

There were no cars in the kingdom only that of the Ruler and three buses, two passenger buses, and one school bus for the Arawak children.

The people rode bicycles and drive horse and carts; the streets were clean and wide with trees planted by the side walk and plenty of street lightings around.

We got out and walked for a while and uncle told me that any-one who wanted to come and live here must first apply for residence and then attend an interview with rigorous checks.

If their application was successful they would be given a job or can set up their own business, and with a house free to live in and free water supply.

Every six months they only paid a small percentage of rates and the electricity they used.

The rates they paid went towards the upkeep of the school and paid the teachers and kept the streets clean and so on.

People who lived outside the Kingdom but wished to do some trade and commerce here would be given a permit to do so.

Our rules and guide-lines are very strict; we do not admit thieves convicted criminals, ex prisoner, drunks, violent men and women.

If any one should misbehave inappropriately he or she would be expelled and would not be allowed into the Kingdom again.

The Kingdom was busy and thriving; there were all types of food, fruits and vegetables in the market place.

There were various shops, some selling clothing and others books, jewellery, furniture and many mini-super markets and stores.

The people were friendly where-ever we went and they would come forward and shake our hands.

There was a dental surgery and an optician, two schools, two Mosques one in the village and one in the city, but no health care.

People from other faiths were allowed to live and work in the Kingdom and practice their religion.

But they were not allowed to build temples or churches, nor do any chanting in the streets.

It was an Islamic Kingdom and uncle was open-minded and ‘Just’ to his people but his rules were very strict.

There was no poverty in the kingdom and he wanted to keep it that way. He told me that he knew what it was like to be poor and he wanted to keep his people happy; that when he was gone his memory would live on.

I told uncle that there was something missing in the Kingdom and he asked me what it was.

I told him a health clinic; instead of the people travelling to the main land to see a doctor they could have one right here.

He nodded his head and said, “You are a wise Latchman and I think these people would love to have you around.”

We left the busy city centre and went through the village again to continue our journey.

I was taken to Lake Piranha. It was given that name because of a large number of piranhas that were found in that lake.

These fish were eating the wild-life when they came there to drink the water and to feed in the lake.

That was how the rangers found out that there was piranha in the lake and they had taken over the lake.

The lake was drained and dredged to get rid of them and then filled up again so that the wild life could thrive once more.

There was a rowing boat with its paddle and a canoe with a paddle moored by the foot path leading next to the lake.

On the other side of the lake was a small wooden hut with a thatched roof. It was there that Shereen had done all her paintings.

After we left the lake Alam got on to a wide road which was completely deserted, on both side of the road was vast areas of grass-lands and rain-forests with mountains in the back ground.

The landscape was breath-taking; there were cactus plants, rear orchids and rows of palm trees.

There were many trees that I did not recognise. Alam pointed out an almond nut tree and a few coffee bean trees along the rugged coast-line.

Our next stop was at the Lucayan indigenous Arawak tribe; according to history these Arawak Indians once occupied the Greater Antilles before they migrated to South America.

In 1492 Christopher Columbus met this tribe when he first arrived in the Americas and the Spanish described them as peaceful primitive people.

Their village was situated behind a mountain range in the vast Rupununi savannah.

They lived in mud huts with thatched roofs; the children came running when we pulled up outside their village.

Uncle and Habib got out and walked into the court-yard carrying bags of clothing for the women and children and tins of biscuits and sweets for everyone.

Alam told me not to go outside Habib would distribute the gifts to the Indians.

And then I asked him why and he told me that the Squaws would fight over me and the winner would take me to her hut.

“I am already married and have a family.” I said.

“It does not matter to them,” he answered.

Then he told me that the children from this village go to our village school in that school bus we saw in the school yard to get educated and integrate with the local community.

They have no health care; an old woman would deliver the babies and they used certain bushes as medicine.

The juice of the cactus plant they use as antiseptic; the warm black sage bush would reduce swellings.

And the bark of that tree he pointed at it, they boiled it and drank its water and that cured the fever and brought down the temperature.

They hardly get sick and their mortality rate remains low, the women weave ponchos and make baskets, pottery and foot-wear from animal skins.

They grew crops of maize, cassava and other root vegetables, and they love to beautify themselves with paints, colourful beads and garments.

Their men were hard working people they worked mainly for dad in his cattle ranch and milk production industry.

Then I asked Alam if he knew any-thing about the Carib Tribe Indians and he told me that according to history books the ethnic Carib descendants lived in Puerto Rico and US Virgin Islands.

By 1200 AD they migrated south and settled in Venezuela and Columbia and around South America.

Their men are skilled boat builders and sailors and good at hunting with bows and arrows and for fun; they loved to fight.

I asked whether they were cannibals and he laughed and said, there was no evidence that this tribe ate people.

They hunt for meat and they catch fish so why would they choose to eat humans, he asked.

Then I told him that my wife was descended from that tribe and he giggled and said, “And you think that she is going to eat you.”

I told him that a woman once said that to me when she found out that my wife was from the Carib Tribe and after that day I thought that when I fell asleep she might chew my arm and think its beef.

Alam was laughing hysterically and then he remarked, “You are a funny guy, cousin Hasan and have you told my dad about this?” he asked

“Not yet,” I answered.

The Indians gave us some woven ponchos, beaded necklaces with a few gold pieces in them and baked cassava bread.

It was nearly midday when we arrived at the ranch house which was a wooden bungalow made from green heart timber with a galvanized zinc roof painted in red.

There were two rooms with bunk beds and a sitting area with a small kitchen, the porch at the front had two hammocks and one swing.

The ropes of the hammocks were attached to the rafters of the ceilings, there was no electricity in those remote parts.

Our only light was that of candles and two paraffin lamps, water was plentiful but we took our own drinking supply.

The air was fresh and unpolluted and for miles one could see this vast expanse of green landscape of hills and valleys with mountain peaks in the back ground.

The climate was much cooler here in the South than I had expected and at night it got colder.

In January and February the peak of the mountains were sometimes covered with snow.

While Alam and I unloaded the Land Rover, Habib set the table with the food he brought from the palace.

Uncle took me outside for a private chat. He told me that I was going to meet some of the ranchers, rangers, and vets.

And that he was going to inform them that he was retiring and I would be taking his place in the next six months.

I would have to learn quickly to fly the Desert Queen, ride a horse learn the Arawak language, and shoot with a rifle.

His men were mainly Arawak Indians, except the vets with a couple of locals, the Indians were good people he said, and they would not give me any problem.

The barbed wire fencing by the ridge was where his land ended. It was a wild country with various species of wild animals.

Like the tiger and jaguar roaming freely, spiders and snakes and other types of dangerous creatures were your neighbours.

He told me that the road we came in from he would get extended to the bungalow so that I could use it as a run way to fly in and out, instead of me spending one hour on the road driving.

“I want to make life easy for you to continue this legacy,” he said, “And there-after your sons and their generation to follow.”

We are the last of the Latchman and you must take this forward into the next century,” he remarked.

“I am going to try my best, uncle,” I answered.

Then we went indoors to have our lunch of baked cassava bread with fried fish and root vegetables.

As we were eating I thought that this was a mammoth task uncle was asking me to do and I wondered whether I was capable of handling it alone.

I would have to find out from him his most trusted men and keep them close to me.

While we continued our meal two men arrived with four horses and uncle invited them in to eat with us.

Both were Arawak Indians, one was Condor and the other one was Red Eagle.

I whispered to Alam and said, “What sort of names these guys have? Both of them are named after species of birds.”

Alam replied, “I think when they were born their parents wanted them to fly.”

We were both laughing and the two men were also laughing with us, Condor the younger of the two was single and he spoke very little English.

The other man Red Eagle was married with children and he used sign language; they were both friendly guys.

After we had eaten, the two Indians were chatting to uncle in their native language and then I was introduced to them.

They were two of the twelve rangers of the estate; an hour later they saddled the horses to take us further into the pampas [grass land] for me to meet with some of the ranchers and see the cattle.

I had never sat on a horse before but I managed to get on with the help of Condor, he was appointed to take care of me in-case the horse bolted.

It took us fifteen minutes ride to get to another destination in that beautiful wilderness of rough terrain.