Here is an excerpt from my coming book Yellow eyes describing the funeral of Dalai the shaman`s mother and the mysterious events happening during this event: The cliffs could not be missed. They rose up like the bow of a boat a kilometer further up river, just where the valley narrowed at its upper reaches and then ended in a steep ravine where the springs flowed out of the ground. The cliffs were almost like an arch. Although they were no more than maybe thirty meters high, they were still impressive with their sharp points rising from an otherwise flat landscape. The Dalai pointed out the location in the valley where they’d had their yurt and they could actually see a fireplace and the remnants of a cellar where they had stored their food. When they arrived at the spot, they all got out of the car and went silently to look around. The Dalai stood by himself and wept. No one said anything. Even to each other, because they did not want to disturb him. It was the first time the Dalai had seen the site since he had left and he felt all the memories wash over him. Memories of both the place and his infancy, but not least the fact that it was here he had received life again. Thanks to his mother. It was also here that he had learned to appreciate his abilities and learned how to use them. He had never learned to understand them fully, just enough for him to make a name for himself as a healer and shaman. It was an important place for the Dalai, and he was crying tears of joy for his return. They were also tears of sorrow for the old woman. He had every reason to cry, so the others left him alone. After a short while the Dalai dried his eyes on his sleeve, he had finished his crying. Now they had to carry the old woman up onto the cliffs and that would be no mean feat! Even the flat side facing the plain was sufficiently steep to make it hard work to support the body on the stretcher they had made in the village before they left. Driving was impossible, because the ground was full of protruding rocks. So they had to walk and carry the stretcher for the final section. Once they reached the top the Dalai instructed the others on how to arrange the stones there, so they formed a dais on which to place the stretcher. It did not take long to build and then they laid the stretcher with the old woman on top. The Dalai then asked the group to gather round the stretcher, but he arranged them in a very particular order. Leif stood at her head with his back to the stretcher, looking out over the edge of the valley and the steppes beyond. It was a magnificent view. Leif shivered even though it was warm and the sun shone intensely from the incredibly blue Mongolian sky. There was a chill in the air. It kind of hugged his lower back and the sides of his body in an insidious way. It almost tickled his skin and it gave him goose bumps on his back and arms. It was an experience midway between beautiful and creepy. He was not quite certain which. It was like feeling a cold breath on his skin. It found its way slowly over on his stomach and down between his legs, where it felt like a cold hand caressing his balls. It was not at all uncomfortable and he could not avoid getting an erection, which was incredibly awkward, given the situation. Luckily, he was standing with his back to the others, so he hoped nobody had noticed. Vincent was on the left of the stretcher and the Dalai on the right. At her feet stood Lilly, also with her face turned away from where the old woman lay. Her whole body shook with the cold and she tried hard to stop it, her teeth were chattering. Her lips were blue. Jochi was standing a little way off, because the Dalai did not want him at the bier for some reason. He was a little disappointed at having been excluded from the ritual. He also felt the cold that emanated from the stretcher, although he was not as exposed as Lilly. Funnily enough, Vincent was not affected by the phenomenon at all; he just stood there and looked at the others, seemingly unmoved. All the others were freezing, even the Dalai, although no one suffered as much as Lilly. If this went on much longer she would freeze to death. She was blue with the cold and her eyes opened wide and her mouth gaped as if she was trying to shout something. Vincent and Jochi began to mumble and gesture at the Dalai with the intention of getting him to stop before Lilly froze to death. Could this possibly be happening? Or was this just their imagination? Suddenly Leif moaned and sank to his knees. On the front of his pale shorts was a large stain of semen, the result of the cold-hand massage he had received. Leif was unconscious and fell on his side and lay on the grass with his mouth open. Completely unconscious. Lilly sank to the ground in a heap and the cold left her. She was panting, staring with what looked like panic straight ahead, while she convulsively opened and closed her hands. Then she began to wail. What began as a whimper rose to a scream, which was finally so loud and piercing that both Jochi and Vincent put their hands over their ears. The Dalai was totally unconcerned and just watched, making no move to intervene. As suddenly as she had begun Lilly stopped and lay unconscious on the grass. The other three stood motionless and seemed to be waiting for something. At least the Dalai did. Vincent did too, but only because he was copying the Dalai. Jochi remained in the same place; he closed his eyes and bit his lip. He seemed to be terrified. Vincent realized he wasn’t worried or scared at all. On the contrary, he felt very safe and comfortable. Actually, more than he ever had before. He wanted to laugh. The Dalai noticed Vincents mood and turned his head toward him, studying him intensely. Vincent felt himself becoming more and more excited and an indescribable sense of joy and relief welled up through him like lava from a volcano. He was close to exploding and he tried to find a way to control himself. He had to! But he could not and then Vincent exploded into raucous laughter, louder and harder than he had ever laughed in his life. A laugh that started at the pit of his stomach and then rose up within him, gathering force on its way through his body and when it reached his throat it was so forceful that it threatened to blow his head off. Well it definitely would have if he’d tried to keep it in. But he did not, it erupted with full force. Then he dragged air into his lungs and out came a new tsunami-like wave of laughter, followed by another and another. The Dalai’s expression changed from concerned to happy even before the first laugh came out. At the second laugh, he joined Vincent and howled with laughter. It sounded more like a howl than a laugh, but it was undoubtedly a laugh. Both he and Vincent were bent over the stretcher and the dead woman, laughing hysterically as their tears rained down on her. Neither of them seemed able to stop. They got cramps from laughing so hard, the tears and snot continued to flow and formed puddles on the old womans clothes. Vincents vision began to blur from the effort and his eyelids began to flutter. Finally Vincent and the Dalai fell unconscious across the dead womans body. Jochi was now the only one who was still conscious; he stood there in confusion not knowing whether should move. It felt as if something was preventing him from trying to help the others. The feeling that he should stay exactly where he was, was incredibly strong. So he remained standing there. For an hour.....
Posted on: Sat, 11 Oct 2014 08:01:24 +0000
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