Pebble On The Tongue*: The House of Tears

Every language has some register of expression at which it excels. These powers tell a great deal about the social history of each community: its origins, the tenor of its story, even its physical context and values. Languages of the global South often have unusual capacities for commiseration; this from deep experience in struggles for survival, in enduring acquaintance with loss and privation.

Somewhere in northern Ghana the passing of a community leader has drawn a crowd of dignitaries and elders resplendent in garb and thoughtfulness. Noteworthy in this scene is the location: most probably the courtyard of a family homestead where the mourners have planted themselves in the common dust, a telling sign. I once attended such a funeral in the Kalahari, only to learn well into the proceedings that this was not the wake I had been invited to. I was a stranger in the gathering, but was yet compelled to remain for the ritual washing of hands, the customary meal and the repartee as proof that ‘in the house of grief and tears, there can be no stranger.’
*photo credit: Amuzujoe/wikimediacommons.org*

While attending a wake in a drought-ridden corner of Botswana, I heard the following expression, whose insight is evident in the events that harrowed a small town in Texas, events that have united millions in an awareness of tearful kinship.

In the house of grief and tears,

There can be no stranger.

*Travelers who face prolonged thirst have learned that a pebble placed on the tongue draws saliva into the mouth and relieves the unpleasant feel of a parched mouth, allowing the eye and will to fasten again on the oasis objective.

Pebble On The Tongue*: The House of Tears

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