Interactions, pt. 3

In my travellings around the continent, I found many words and actions to be characteristic of the area. The more time I spent in an area, the more I realized how the ways people interacted were framed by the culture they were a part of. Years passed and my thurst to understand this phenomenon grew more and more passionate. I started first with the peoples located on the Reservation and recorded the many things I learned and observed there. I was with one tribe, when disaster struck. This disaster turned into the catalyst that began my journey into the strange world that tore itself apart because of my presence.

The little village that consisted of the Waia tribe was more complex than many of the larger tribes I had visited in the Reservation. I had barely been given permission by the tribal leaders to begin living among them, when an explosion erupted near the border of the village. The tribal leaders saw this a sign to fear that my presence among their people would bring disaster, so they devised a plan to have me go to the area where the explosion took place in order to put my observation skills to use and see if I couldn't figure out what had happened and if there were any further threat. Well, being so anxoius to have the opportunity to live among these people was the driving force in my acceptance. Whether a choice made in rash youth or one made out of my supposed lust for this opportunity, to this day I cannot tell, but I do know that that choice was one of the last ones I would make in this world.

The day came for me to set out for the explosion area, and I reluctantly rechecked my rucksak for the supplies I knew I would need. Thinking that my journey would last a day or two, I brought supplies accordingly, including enough to record on for a week. Of course, this would not be close to enough to cover the time that I was gone. I started off toward the borderland thinking that the explosion would just be another vehicle vandalized by some troublemakers. The sun hits its zenith as I saw the first signs of the explosion. As I glanced at the charred ground, I saw that the blast radius wasn't as large as the noise made it out to be. I set my camp up ten paces away from the edge of the blast so I could make visual observations while still being close enough to do some studying of the debris left.