Friday, December 26, 2014
The House of Rats
A perfect circled
Moon, in the center of the
Sky, full of vermin!...
Looking for my rats
In the wet weeds,
I found a cat!
The cat: little body, big eyes
A sleeping cat—
He doesn’t know, that:
The Moon’s turned down
Low! The bloodshot rats are romping
With bind nuisance!
The flies in the house
And the fog on the weeds
And the rats in the leaves
Is quite sad, — the rats
Lowers themselves from the roof,
By a hair’s thread!
A quiet moment—; Low moon,
Low weeds, just cooking some stew!
All God’s creatures
Must be fed also;
This not true?
Yes! God provides, for
Even, the unfluctuating flies,
And the napping moths:
The worms in the grass, the rats!
The rats in the house of rats:
That are now in the
Cellar window, erect, —this quiet
On the edge, the shelf’s ledge:
Looking at the Big Dipper…
Munching on autumn
Leaves, and hard tobacco—:
Loving heads side by side,
Pending the stew to be done;
Watching for the cat,
—still curled up, in the weeds!
In a perfect circled moon!
This ten stanza Haiku poem consist of three styles: the 17-sylable, the 13-sylable, and the Tanka (17-sylables plus a set of seven)
((Atocongo Station) (a short radio play))
By Dennis L. Siluk, Dr. h.c.
“Full with half comic throbbing of the human race, this radio play is written in strong, dramatic dialogue that is real both in its insinuation and in its suitability. So I believe.” The Author
Rosa (daughter to Papa Augusto—47-years old)
Dennis (son in law—59-years old)
Papa Augusto (Father to Rosa and David, 91—years old)
Sofia (daughter in law to Papa Augusto, wife to David—37-years old)
Maria Sofia (Granddaughter to Papa Augusto—10-years old)
David (son to Papa Augusto, husband to Sofia—39-years old)
Martha (eldest daughter to Papa Augusto—54-years old)
Two people standing the Atocongo Station, in Lima, Peru, it is four days before Christmas; they are waiting for the train, and two other family members, Sofia and Maria Sofia (or Mary-Sofia), are to go Christmas shopping. David is going beyond the yellow line, looking down the tracks for the train, at the same time looking for his wife Sofia and his daughter Maria Sofia glancing at the steps leading up to the platform where the train will stop, Sofia is to pick up her daughter upon arrival back from Satipo, the Central Jungle of Peru (where they are building a motel), then take a taxi over to Martha’s apartment in Jesus-Maria, a section of Lima, and pick up her daughter, then hightail over to the train station near Maria Sofia’s Uncle Dennis’ and Rosa’s house.
There is music in the background, Christmas music, where it is coming from, is questionable, only the station manager and God knows.
A Voice: Here she comes!
The music gets louder. You can hear footsteps. You can hear a few murmurs then they die out.
You can hear the crescendo of the train whistle approach; the sound of iron and steel on the tracks rushing.
The train now enters the dock area—within the station, pulls up to the edge, there is a hissing, a clanking. Now the noise of the people standing on the pier are about to board the train— (English and Spanish mixed voices, whatever, however you prefer) then a dead stop of the train.
Voice comes over a loud speakers saying: Stand back of the yellow line until the train opens up its doors and the passengers leave, and then step up… (Repeats.)
David: Rosa, do you see Sofia or Mary-Sofia, they’re to meet us here?
Rosa: We can wait for her, wait for next train don’t worry, they come every
fifteen minutes, she’ll be along.
David: I left Mary-Sofia with Martha, she’s watching her for the weekend, but
Sofia was to pick her up, as soon as she arrived back
Sofia suddenly appears on the platform holding little ten-year old Mary-Sofia’s arm. Papa Augusto is with them, he drags the heels of his feet somewhat and you can hear the sound on the cement, and stomps his cane, step to step, unknowingly or purposely, he likes his attention. And recently he had had an accident, breaking his femur, thus, he’s been laid up in Huancayo, up in the Andes all this time, and it has halfway healed, this is his first real visit back down to Lima in a long while. It was an eight-hour bus ride to Lima.
Rosa: Oh, Sofia, there you are! (Sofia hastens towards Rosa, leaving Mary-Sofia
to assist her grandfather, meeting Rosa—face to face, and David rushing over to greet his wife at the same time) David’s been so worried, nervous as a rabbit being chased by a hound (they both chuckle, David grins).
Papa Augusto dragging his feet a little as Mary-Sofia hasten towards them.
David (finally, after a greeting kiss): Where on God’s earth you been?
Papa Augusto (coolly): Martha’s, we’ve been at Martha’s, and you know how
she likes to talk, and talk and talk.
David: All this time?
Papa Augusto: Maria Sofia eats so slow, you could milk a hundred goats!
Papa Augusto pacing in a circle, dragging his feet, thudding his cane stick... David kisses his daughter, hugs her.
Sofia (to David): The truth of the matter is, your father was in the ‘men’s’ at
Martha’s if you know what I mean… ((?)(Then quietly in a whisper)) That’s why we’re late…
Rosa: We can catch the next train (Rosa goes to kiss Papa Augusto and give him
a big hug, he likes it but the hug is a little too long, and he fusses a tinge, says in his osculating, and higher pitched voice, the one he saves for such occasions:’ Yaw, Okay, okay!’).
Rosa (continues): Why are you here papa?
Papa Augusto: I wanted to surprise Dennis, where is he?
Rosa: Taking a siesta at home. I see pa, you have a tie on Dennis gave you it
looks good on you, and the ring he gave you, Dennis always likes it when he sees you with the ring on, he says it makes you look like a big shot. (Pause.)
Papa Augusto: Now never mind about that, you should have brought Dennis
Rosa (her voice a little dejectedly) I didn’t know you were coming.
Papa Augusto: I had such a hard time getting here with this leg and all, this
stupid cane, up those flights of stairs, coming all the way down on a bus from Huancayo to this dusty-cloudy city, with all the ‘rateros’ (robbers) I just gave them a few of my mean looks and they backed off…Dennis and I are warriors you know… (Pause.)
David: Let’s go back and wake Dennis up, maybe he’ll go Christmas shopping
with us, that will make dad happy?
Papa Augusto: Good Idea, yes, who knows, I’m 100-years old, maybe more, I
may be dead tomorrow, let’s see if he is up, I may never get to see him if we don’t.
Rosa: Okay but you know he likes his naps. Pa you’re 91-years old, not 100.
Papa Augusto: How would you know, you weren’t born yet, they never even
had a birth certificate of me until I went to the courthouse and they wrote down the day I went there, not the ten-years earlier as my birthday should have been? So how old does that make me?
Rosa: Yaw, I suppose there’s some truth to that, ma even said that before she
Papa Augusto (in his osculating, and higher pitched voice): Yaw, Okay, Okay!
…let’s get going.
They walk off the platform, descending down the steps; you can hear the pitter-patter of footsteps, and the dragging of the cane. At the bottom of the steps Papa stops to rest, it would seem he’s thinking initiatively, as if he has a plan.
Sofia: We could have saved all this time ((pause.)(David motions to Sofia, she
has not finished her sentence, they are at the bottom of the station platform, and papa is starting to walk away from them dragging his heels…))
Rosa: I hope you’ll be happy now Dad!
Papa Augusto: Don’t ask me to speak and walk at the sometime, I’m worn out,
end of conversation.
They move on across the street, they halt at the corner to chat a bit.
David: Papa, put your arm around my shoulder.
Papa Augusto: Have you been drinking, I don’t need another cane! (Pause.)
David: you’re quivering some (Pause.)
Papa Augusto: I’m in good enough condition to lead myself.
Rosa: You and your cane are going to fall in the cracks of the sidewalk; you
should let David help you!
Papa Augusto: Pull yourself together; it’s only a few blocks to your house.
Rosa: Let’s get a motor cart, I mean, a taxi.
Papa Augusto: No, no need for it, it’ll cost three soles. ((One dollar) (mumbling
while calculating, 1, 2, 3, 5, people, two cars…))
Rosa: no, one and a half soles, only you and I can go, and the rest can walk to
the house, it’s not that far.
Papa Augusto (Thinking.): The sun’s hot!
David: let’s not argue, the rest of the way is per near all downhill. (Plus, Papa
Augusto, looks firm, and David can see this.)
They walk three blocks; you hear footsteps for a long minute.
Papa Augusto: Do not ask me to count, but this is more than a few blocks.
(Pause. Irritable.) I think they’ve made these blocks longer since last I’ve been here.
Rosa: No paw, it’s the same distance it has always been, you’re just thirty-
years older with a bad leg, it is although all of four blocks, or bit more.
Papa Augusto: Well, if that’s what you call a short walk. (Rosa silent).
Now they are at the house, standing in the front of the door, you can hear Rosa unlocking the door with the key, the door creeps open with a light noise from the hinges. Papa Augusto is tired, not extremely tired, putting on more of a show, than is reality for some reason.
Rosa: One minute please (she turns on the hallway light so everyone can see their
way to the upper section of the house, there are three steps to the next floor, they are in the den.)
Papa Augusto: I think I shall retire, what bedroom you want me to take,
you got six don’t you? (Pause.)
They move on into the house, Papa Augusto dragging his feet, panting, thudding his stick.
Rosa: Now mind the three steps up…up to the living room! …Okay? (Looking
at Papa Augusto, in particular.)
Papa Augusto: I made it. ((Without stopping between steps, he seems a bit proud
wants a little attention, gloats some.)They are now all standing in the living room.))
Rosa: Well we made it (A smile on her face) I’ll see if Dennis is awake.
Papa Augusto: No need to, you folks go do whatever Christmas shopping you
got on your minds, I’ll stay here, and when he wakes up, I’ll let him know.
Rosa: Let him know what? I mean he already knows we are out to do some
Christmas shopping that was what our original intentions were you know.
Papa Augusto: No-ooo, not that, I know that—don’t let me stop you from your
shopping—but I’ll let him know I’m here. All this stopping and starting back up, made me tired.
Puzzlement seems to befall everyone.
Maria Sofia: Is everything okay, ma? (Looking at Sofia’s bewilderment look.)(No
response, just a finger over her lips as if to say be quite, and wait a minute as for her to figure out what in tar nation is going on.)
Papa Augusto (Brokenly.) What was that! (Cries coming from behind Rosa’s
Rosa: That’s the little boy of Lola’s next door, Denial, he cries all the time,
makes Dennis crazy, he yells at Daniel now and then tells him to be quiet, stop the crying, and he does for a while. ((Silence.)(Dogs start barking out in the park across the street, which is directly in front of the house, only a street separating them—Cherry Park))
Sofia (In nearly a normal tone, with a slight irritation to it, to David.): Do you, or do
you not want to go Christmas shopping? At least I hope you do! (Back to normal-normal tone.) Let’s rest and start back up again, I mean head on back to the train. (David looks hesitate.)
David: I was thinking, maybe we can go tomorrow.
Sofia (Startled.) Really!...
Papa Augusto is looking about, he hears the little boy starting to cry again, dogs barking outside, the train halting a few blocks away, the iron and steel wheels making a squeaking noise, Christmas music coming from some place.
Papa Augusto: Now what was I going to say. ((He’s trying to remember what he
was thinking.)(Pause.)) Oh yes, tomorrow I want to visit the racetrack!
Rosa: You do have your moments Pa. I might just as well do some house
work before Dennis wakes up, it looks as if I’m not going anyplace. If he gets up and sees you walking here and there he make think you’re a robber, and God knows what then, maybe shoot you.
The Child is crying again…
Papa Augusto: That’s one healthy child!
Rosa (to her father): Did you eat at Martha’s?
Papa: No, nothing solid, if that is what you mean.
Rosa: Well what did you eat? (Pause.)
Papa Augusto: Something she got at Metro, or Wong, or Plaza Vea, or maybe it
was Totus, her specialty grocery stores.
Rosa: Well what did you eat?
Sofia: Yes, indeed he ate.
Papa Augusto: I confess I forgot what.
Maria Sofia: I think grandpa you had two pantone slices, a coke, parts of three
eggs and a banana, and something out of a package.
Papa Augusto (everyone looking at Papa Augusto, starting to laugh): This cane
takes a lot out of a person when he walks. (He clears his throat) I’ll take a sandwich Rosa if you got one.
Rosa: Peanut butter will have to do, and wheat bread.
Papa Augusto: Yaw, Okay, okay! (In a high osculating voice.)
Note 1: Written out in an afternoon on the 20 of December, 2012, on top of my roof patio in Lima, Peru, written out in longhand, seemingly it appears to lack luster, and to be a little weak, although it has a few comic throbbing moments, dramatic dialogue, with some hint in suitability. Rewritten in better form, 12-29-2012; a short and playful;, play with near 2300-words total. #983
Note 2: The drawing for this Radio Play, is of Rosa Peñaloza by the Author,,
Note: When the author refers to Primitive (mind or man, he is not referring to brain size or skull capacity), he is really referring to the older culture being practiced within a group or society, or civilization at hand, (perchance, not updated to the higher civilizations of the world; and when he refers to Original, it infers those older folks who still own those older customs, still held firm within their older culture, and being transmitted into the newer culture, or younger generation.) It does not imply the capacity to learn. And it does not infer, the arts, or dances, songs, those kind of customs, or traditions, rather, behavioral traits. The author is trying to focus on ‘Time-management’ per se, within the Wanka or Peruvian culture (kind of a one for all, and all for one thing), and will be using well-designed characteristics, along with environmental influences, and immigration, mental traits and development, cultural traits, convergent development, mental or cognitive reactions, types of social comparison, with an end summery to this overall issue.
A primitive cultured or Original mind, one that does not feel compelled to complete, or finish, fulfill a certain work at a certain prescribed time as agreed upon (to leave unfinished time and again, and do so as a normal practice, to which becomes the norm), or to arrive late at a certain time set, or agreed upon (to which becomes the norm). This is the premise, or principle idea here in this thesis, in which, I wish to dissect this issue, or subject matter.
We are in a way talking about inhibition, or reserve of impulses; some North Americans may call this hang-ups. Some psychologists or anthropologists, may call this lack of, or power of attention, one’s weak attention span, that is. As if the primitive vs. the more civilized, the more civilized having a longer length of consideration. We must also add to this equation power of original thought, attention length, and the instinct to trigger. What is behind all this: uncertainty, hungers, and fickleness (or indecisiveness)? But why? I have lived in Huancayo, as well as Lima, which Huancayo, is a city in the Mantaro Valley of Peru, high up in the Andes, for a decade, and there is a time-management issue in both places, here for me, not necessary for others, but me being a North American, and for those folks like me, perhaps Europeans, Japanese, Germans, etc....
Now after a decade of looking at this, after learning their customs and traditions, I know their way of life in general, and here is what I come up with! Remember this is perhaps more a generalization, an opinion by observation (empirical data), and by what they may call an outsider, yet I have participated with them, in life’s many struggles, and circles. Their history goes back as do their legends, 2500-years in Huancayo. And in Peru, in general, 17,000-years, of which the oldest Civilization in the America’s is in Peru, not that far from Lima, “Caral” 3000 B.C.
What is time to a primitive mind? One must ask that question when interpreting this issue of time management (especially to an older way of thinking). Particularly to those in the high Andean old culture areas (and to a certain degree, to a great portion of those who have migrated to Lima, from other areas of Peru, since Peru is a coastal, jungle and mountainous geographic wealth of landmass, or from other higher civilizations…) whose people do not feel compiled to complete a certain work, this can be called: fickleness, or vacillation. In other words, the native loses interest quickly in the subject, or object, which the other person has at heart. In essence, he is always late.
I have looked at this culture a long, long time, and danced their dances, sang their songs, ate their foods, lived in their domain. What is this primitive way of thinking got to do with me, and why is it at all, present? Why is there a time issue here? To finish this work or that work, or any work for that matter. Why do they wait to the last minute?
He is not a savage, in the primitive way of thinking, yet to compare his indecisiveness with that of an educated European, or North American, this isolated societal behavior in this area one can only compare it with behavior in undertakings which are equally important to each. (Forget etiquette here, for it is simple protocol, or custom as to each society his own, or culture, or civilization. What I think is proper etiquette, may not be for the Wanka, and he may very well know, time-management to me is important, and part of my etiquette, and expected of me, and not of him.)
That said, we must not compare, or try to control the impulses of a primitive, or original mind on the same bases or occasions, as we would do among ourselves; ourselves being, in my case North American, a Minnesotan: lest I be bewildered why they do what they do, forevermore. And we know they do what they do because of… (Perceptions, more observations that is, associated themselves with previous perceptions, and this leads to action: the stimulus is being put into a new environment, and then watching your mind become greater in manifestations, and then going back to—let’s say, Huancayo, and allowing them to see with their observations, thus, things take time to change; we see here psychological changes by repetition of mental processes).
Personal etiquette among primitives or originals, may not require inhibition (reserve) of the same kind, we must look for the inhibition that is required by the customs of the primitive/or original people of the area ((looking at their environment)(the mind becomes more organized, diversity takes place when we have variety of content of the mind, you cannot expect the more primitive—or simple, or basic person, to step over the gap willingly, so it remains open)) —in this case, the Wanka (and in many cases the Peruvian people per se). Which I have done (some things are taboo).
In the primitive, there is a lack of self-control (heredity and environment play a part in this mind predisposition; there are often other mixed manifestations of the mind; the laws of mental activity may not be the same as the other Wanka who has left the valley only to return at a later date more civilized or educated, as the Wanka that has remained in the valley and never left it.) In other words, soberness. This is common, and this is Wanka characteristics, and much throughout Peru (time-management in the same way I think, is not time- management in the way they think: we are perhaps looking at values now).
In such primitives, we can see such persons persevering through hardships, undergoing privations, bound in superstitious, etcetera. Such folks are brave, endure, but on the other side of the coin there still remains a lack of control, such as the “outburst,” of passion, by slight provocations. Of course this disappears with new attitudes when becoming more civilized. We see the Wanka on both sides of this coin here, evolving as social conditions change, cause and effect, biases disappear, in essence, time-management becomes more businesslike, more valued, a virtue, more often than not.
Impulsiveness: look at the motives. Original or primitive man must control, certain impulses, as well as civilized man. Each has his own. We look at each one’s social status, which dos not demand either one to be the same as the other. Primitive man says: why would I not be as successful tomorrow, as I was today! He has this odd optimism.
If a race lacks in originality, originality, or innovation, they will not grow, they must rise to higher laws of culture to change. In primitive man, customs are more binding than in civilized society.
The lack of time-management, is spontaneous, and at times can be viewed as a thoughtless trait, of the primitive, and must be viewed that way if one is to accept the peculiar psychological characterizes of the embryonic actions, with the modern, or up-to-date, more civilized actions; which the first is often due to his/her surroundings. In a like manner, one can see the primitive as passive, and the civilized as active.
Primitive thinking is not necessary primitive thinking, it is the thinking of the time for that place in time of a certain people, I am of course using the Wanka Race as my example; or philosophical thought for that period, in that place, which is today, in the Mantaro Valley of Peru. If such is the case the person is not primitive, but his society is strongly influenced by that current way of thinking (thought); as in time-management which they do not have, and we may add loudness of music, to where it is a common distraction everywhere, for everybody, by those forcing his neighbors to accept it, within this environment or society, and look upon it as custom, yet is damaging to the eardrums, and far from custom, rather it is a bad habit, referred to as custom as to reason changing out of the equation.
Unconscious or conscious people of a society imitate, this is a factor, imitating others’ actions, thus, we make up logical cause, although no logical reason can be assigned as to loud music as a custom, on a full time scale, and time-management as a dysfunction, on a peculiarity long enduring scale. We are addressing physiological and psychological functions between races, the primitive way of thinking and the more modern way of thinking.
On the second to last note here before the summary, let me say: there is no reason to suppose that they, these people, this so called society, in the Andes, the Andean Race if there is such a thing, or Peruvian, that they are unable to reach the level of civilization represented by the bulk of the so called, higher world—: they are advancing at an accelerated rate, this very moment, at per near the speed of light.
Now for the last few notes: the primitive cultured man, his perceptions, or sensitivities are sharp, but his logical interpretations are not, they become a deficient. This is not any fundamental peculiarity of the mind, rather a character of the traditional ideas of the community’s: mass observations, imitations, social comparison: thoughts in this are transmitted to the child, to the teenager, to the adult. Even superstitious fears dwell in this area for the primitive mind. Folk-lore may even be an element determining the mode of thought in this area: “Being on time means, you’re less important, but having others wait for you, makes you more important” thus, why be on time, where’s the incentive? “Why should you have to wait, let them.” This is not intelligent thinking, or understanding, a bit mediaeval, but it makes a person look important, does it not: “I’m sorry but I’ve been so very, very busy.” Which really implies, you’re not all that important to me, this is the impression one is really giving to the person waiting; right or wrong, indirect nor not. Or at the last minute canceling something you agreed upon, having no consideration for the person waiting or having invested his time, and perhaps money into this now deleted meeting (as for example, a Sunday meal, or a Xmas dinner, one may invest $100-dolalrs in, and the party simply says: “I’m sorry but…!” Sorry does not fix a thing. We might even want to call it animal thinking, for when a stray animal sees a better catch, he leaves his first. )
Theoretical this is the basis which is the foundation of primitive reasoning. And to some this is an absolute truth. The same error that is committed with having loud music to the point of disregard for other people, these are less civilized traits, people have. Perhaps more easily satisfied at the present time, so why change! Should you ask them, they will get into their explanations, and conclusions based on it? With a ‘sorry’ that is supposed to iron all matters out.
Higher mental achievement means higher mental faculty (ability). Such are accompanied by characteristics one lives by, the more the ability the more mental superiority over the other group. Anthropology, would say this group, or race of people has to do with the civilization they live in, it is either accelerating or retarding. Heredity is possible, but not in this hypothesis per se. This element does not determine time-management for a group of people or race, so I have not for the most part used it to make a point. Nor are we talking about physical habitus (meaning in this case a physical characteristic) or mental endowment, this does not exist also.
The obstacle here is understanding of the problem, — this has to do with environment, one’s mental make-up is thus, molded. This indicates the rate of growth development and selection for a race or tribe or group of people, say isolated societies, more so than not. It might be compared between rural life and city life, with immigration from one local to another and back to its original location, hence, where change may emanate. In our case here, inhabit impulses, are already imbedded into the more primitive culture, as is the power of attention. Organized thought and clear or not so clear reasoning are all imbedded at this point in both primitive men and civilized men, for both have this facility, although exciting on/or for, different occasions.
Here I endeavored to gain insight into the problem of why it is hard for a group of people, a city, a valley, a race, to follow a certain time schedule, agreed upon, or selected upon, and violate this simple feature, as if it was a norm. Yet, it becomes less than a norm when job security is involved. Is their tardiness understood? To a certain degree yes, for they have expectations for the North American to be on time, or other higher civilizations, they expect them to, but they have excused themselves for of this obligation, or liability.
Article: 12-19th thru 20th 2014 (No: 1301)
Copyright © 12-2014, by Dennis L. Siluk, Dr. h.c.