Cultural Exchange

[Syrixia]

KaDoma Goswani was a minor staff member at the Imperial Library, in the city of Pataliputra. The Library was a vast collection of thousands of years' worth of texts from across the globe, and it was the job of him and many other minor staffers to catalog all of the literary works in the Library's possession. KaDoma took a particular interest in the Meterra wing of the library, specifically those texts from Naizerre, his ancestral homeland. He had secured a job cataloguing that particular wing, much to his delight; and had often spent whatever free time he had playing a little investigative game of sorts. The Naizerri-Syrixian community was born from Visitor Island, an island off the coast of Naizerre so named by the Naizerris of the mainland because it had been owned during the colonial and early modern eras by the Syrixian Empire. That island was also where the tribe that comprised most of Naizerre's priests were located, and they had maintained a historical record of the main events of the year from the mainland. The record noted the deaths of leaders, any freak weather that occurred, any wars that occurred and between whom they were, et cetera.

In the Empire's retreat, some portion of that- 400 years worth of history- was believed to have been taken with them, along with those Naizerris loyal to the Imperial authorities. The Naizerris who came to the Empire would become the Naizerri-Syrixian community, but the whereabouts of the historical records taken along with them remained unknown to modern historians. KaDoma's "game" was, in essence, an attempt to find them. He scoured the warehouses and storage areas of the Library, looking all around for the ancient records. Through meticulous research and determination, KaDoma had determined that they were in an iron chest with art displaying prominent characters from Naizerri folklore on each side, and a great tree on the top. All he needed to do now was find that chest, and for the past two months, that was what he had been doing during his free time. As he walked into the warehouse again while on his break, he remembered all the searching he had done. He didn’t think the results would be any different this time, but he would soon realize this was wrong.

He took the same paths he had done yesterday through the warehouse. Straight, left, right, straight, straight, left, left, right, straight, left, straight, right, right, right again, straight, and then left. Yesterday he had gone straight- today he decided to go right. After taking that path and walking for about two minutes he came upon another dead end. He had found many- this was nothing new. But there was one key difference- all the other times, it was because of a wall. This time, there were boxes blocking his way, and upon looking closer KaDoma noticed that the hallway went a little further. Carefully moving the boxes, KaDoma squeezed his way through, until he bumped his head on something hard sticking out from the dark. Getting out his mKarna, KaDoma turned on its flashlight. Staring back at him was a key. The key was in the keyhole of a gray chest that had what looked like figures of people carved into it. "No fuckin' way. Is this it?" he said out loud. Guiding the flashlight to the top of the chest, he saw the image of a tree, and in an instant knew this was, indeed, it.

 

[Syrixia]

KaDoma turned the key and opened the chest, and inside were, as he had hoped, old, weathered, but still intact pieces of paper. Looking closer at one of them, he saw it. "Togbätä". The capital city of Naizerre, and one with a storied history. These papers were the Naizerri history papers he had been looking for for so long. Running back the way he came to tell his supervisor, KaDoma was soon given a check for one thousand mudras and given a bonus week off, to be used whenever he desired. From there, it was off to the races. KaDoma's supervisor contacted Library management, whom contacted the Departments of the Interior and of the Arts, Culture, and Humanities, also known as the DACH. The Interior Department and the DACH contacted Congress and the Emperor, and the papers were put into the care of the Imperial government.

The Emperor called a Parishad- an informal council wherein members of the Government would be summoned to discuss a matter- summoning the upper management of the State Department, the Privy Council, the State Curator, and the Ambassador to Naizerre, Vihaan Tokas. There were three options on the table for what to do with the papers: cover up the discovery, announce it and keep them at the Library, or announce it and contact Naizerre, asking if they wanted them back. The choice quickly became clear- the papers would need to be given back. If they covered up the discovery, nothing would change, but their knowledge would be kept from the world. If the discovery was announced but the papers were kept in the Empire, Imperial-Naizerri relations would get worse. But if they gave them back, not only would the papers' knowledge still be released to the world, but relations would either remain the same or get better. It was a win-win.

The discovery was announced. Within minutes, SNN was already reporting on it. Included in their report was an announcement that Congress had also voted to repatriate the papers. Soon, Secretary of State Rahul Khanna had penned a letter to the Naizerri government, and it was sent within a few hours.

TO: The Honorable Government of the Marä of Naizerre
SUBJECT: Documents Repatriation

To whomever it may concern within the Government of Naizerre:

As you may know, recently a series of documents were uncovered within the Imperial Library in Pataliputra. We believe these documents may be of a great interest to you. Following the cessation of Imperial administration of the island of Motarä, documents kept there by the island's group of priests containing approximately 400 years worth of Naizerri history was believed to have been taken to and by the Empire. These are the documents which have been recently uncovered.

We wish to formally apologize, as well, for the taking of these documents nearly two hundred years ago. It is clear to both of us, no doubt, that tensions exist between our two nations. However, in the combined interests of knowledge and peace, as well as to fulfill our apology, it is only proper that the Marä of Naizerre receive these documents once again. We have therefore made the decision to repatriate the documents back to their homeland, should you accept them.

We eagerly await your response.

Regards,
Rahul Khanna
Secretary of State of the Syrixian Empire

​

 

[St George]

In a small, square wooden building on the outskirts of Tögbätä, Nzanga Bandu watched as a local station carried a newsfeed of the announcement. The 33 year old had joined the Danyôgbïä Sêhïngängö-ndo straight out of finishing her degree in the study of antiquities. A number of Naizerri artefacts had gone missing over the centuries and Bandu had grown up with stories of daring raids by members of the Sêhïngängö - exaggerated by the news of course - recovering artefacts at home and abroad. It had started an interest in antiquities and Naizerre's history that had yet to abate.

Her own career was rather less that storried than that of the Kamâta-tî Sêndâdûnîa, but she had risen to be Dakua-Mokönzi of Historical Artefacts and a foremost expert in her field. Of course, in Naizerre that meant something different than in the rest of Eras. The Mokönzi wasn't particularly well funded, and they had to rent offices in between a slum and an industrial complex. Plans for new premises for the whole Danyôgbïä were in development hell and so they made do.

Not long after the Syrixians made their announcement, Bandu was headed into Tögbätä's centre, where the government located itself. She had been summoned by no less than the Gbelêgbïä himself, Lomana Manoka. Manoka had taught briefly at the institution Bandu studied at and was responsible for her appointment as Dakua-Mokönzi, but they hadn't spoken in person for some time. Bandu barely had time to get reacquainted with her old tutor before she was ushered into a meeting with Tsubo Tsango, High Chief and President of Naizerre.

The governing coalition was largely split about whether the discovery was actually the Lökpälë or a Syrixian forgery. Whilst not as openly opposed to the Syrixians as Mboto Jones was, High Chief Tsango had no liking for the Syrixians, considering them the air-gangsters his predecessor did. But even he had to admit that they had made recent steps towards perhaps becoming a Marä one day. He thought it unlikely, but at a time when powerful new alliances seemed to forming, one less enemy would be good. Calling a close to the meeting he made a decision.

---

Naizerre Danyôgbïä Kpälëwandë​

Rahul Khanna, Secretary of State of the Syrixian Empire

It is with cautious optimism that the Naizerri Marä received your communication. For too long we had thought the Lökpälë lost to our people, and all the halëzo mourned when other Tö Gïgî came to Naizerre and looted other irreplaceable treasures, some now lost to pekôdünîa. It is a matter of great importance to the Marä to recover all our heritage that has been stolen from us.

There is a question of authenticity of this particular artefact that will need resolving, but Nzanga Bandu, Dakua-Mokönzi of Historical Artefacts and her team will authenticate the article when it arrives. They are experts in their field and will use a variety of methods to ensure that this isn't a forgery that has fooled your own experts.

The Marä of Naizerre accepts the apology for the theft of our heritage and in the spirit of fostering a new age of cooperation will not demand mbilimbili from the descendants of those committed this act. We also thank the Syrixian Empire for the timely communication when this discovery could've been kept secret. We accept that there have been historic and recent tensions between the Marä and the Empire and we agree that easing these will be yêda-terê and show that there can be siriri between our peoples, even if there is not yëngbïngö.

Dakua-Mokönzi Nzanga Bandu will arrive in Syrixia to take care of the arrangements to repatriate the artefact.

Femi Ido
Gbelêgbïä Kpälëwandê

---

Spoiler: translations

dukua - department
dakua-mokönzi - department head
danyôgbïä - ministry
gbelêgbïä - Minister of State
sêhïngängö-ndo - culture
kamâta - take/seize
sêndâdûnîa - history
lökpälë - chronicle
marä - nation
kpälëwandê - foreign affairs
halëzo - people
Tö Gïgî - Eastern outsiders
pekôdünîa - history
mbilimbili - justice in a tribal sense
yêda-terê - agreeable
siriri - peace
yëngbïngö - harmony

 

[St George]

"I should've stayed in the Lärämä." Nzanga Bandu turned to her companion, the much paler than usual escort that she had requested as part of her security detail. Tabia Siti and Nzanga had known each other since childhood, and gone through the gümbä together, their Bï na Lä coming within a week of each other. Tabia had snuck out of the village to give some food to Nzanga, and Bandu did the same a week later. Athletic where Nzanga was academic, Siti had taught her friend in the Sasêe and helped her train for her first - and only - Gobo tournament, getting to the third round. In return Nzanga had helped Tabia through the Fa Yê and to prepare for the Tara, the exams all students took in their 19th year. When Nzanga had gone onto to further schooling and the ministry, Tabia had joined the army, fighting in the Bush War and in Naizerre's expansion westwards. She had transferred to Tögbätä to look after her ailing mother and took a job guarding government officials and the two reconnected.

"Pukobêla?" Nzanga Bandu asked innocently, as the plane buffeted in turbulence. They were on the Presidential jet, which was older than both of they were by more than a decade, and it showed. Tabia groaned along with the plane, sweating, whilst Bandu looked around the plane at the group travelling with her. They were seven in all, including them. Three further former soldiers turned bodyguards, a diplomat and a translator. One of the soldiers had been at the same university as Bandu and she recalled a particularly poor experience in a bathhouse. The awkwardness of the few moments they had spent alone since the group came together had been thankfully brief, but it was just another thing to worry about. Bodum was a dâlê and Nzanga despaired at her younger self.

They had spent most of the previous day in briefings and planning. Everything was choreographed, from the clothes they wore to how they spoke and who they spoke to, where they went to. This wasn't a holiday, this was the first positive diplomatic contact between two enemies. One a coloniser, an exploiter, a thief of Naizerre's heritage. But no longer an enemy. An opportunity, an example to be set, a chance for a better future. These were the messages drilled into them by no less than Tsubo Tsango himself, Ngo Gbïä High Chief of the Marä. The return of the Lökpälë was not just the return of Naizerre's heritage, it was the first pinpricks of light of the first rays of a sun that was yet to rise in the relations between the Syrixians and the Marä.

They were all dressed for their parts. The civilians in dull agbada robes with brightly coloured lamba wrappings. The military in black dashiki suits, eye-catching despite their dark colour due to the gold and green embroidery. They all wore kufi caps, the overall look a mishmash of the varied clothing styles of the Naizerri tribes. Wafängö Tënë, the diplomat accompanying them also carried with him a ceremonial Zâka, traditionally carried by Buä-Kötä tribe who kept the Lökpälë safe and fled Motarä when the Syrixians invaded. He would carry the Zâka until death for his tribe.

The turbulence passed and before long Imperial Pataliputra International Airport came into view, along with the city that gave the airport its name. Larger than Tögbätä by at least a factor of seven, it seemed to be in some places as cramped as the shanty towns of Naizerre but in others resplendent with monuments that many of the Naizerri found impressive, if very very gaudy. Bodum was particularly struck with what they had been told was the Golden Palace Complex in their briefings, until Wafängö reminded him it had been built off of êrepêfu - the colonialism that the Empire had practiced across the mokili. He had closed his mouth but Bandu could see he was taken with the place and she had to admit it dwarfed her home city in size and opulence.

Tsubo Tsango had seen them off and given them a few final words of advice. The elderly leader of the Marä spoke in metaphors as a matter of habit and he had told them before departing "Dä you are bämarä amongst bambî,". Looking out the window of the plane as it came into land, she disagreed. If anything, they were andïsi and they were coming into the home of a bâgara-tombûga, who would crush them if they were able. She had expressed this thought to Tabia who had shaken her head and called her bakalê - a know it all. This set off a chain of insults and banter.

"You always were bakalê."
"More just not a buba zo."
"You färä too much."
"Ase!"
"Wambëtï!"
"Ngonda!"
"Deku!"
"Barâsi!"
"Thank you."

The two women laughed, just as Bodum turned to them in annoyance and chastised them. "Dä bê, mosia." Nzanga went silent but the ever confrontational Tabia shot back. "Dä ti sukulango ngu." Bodum's face went dark just as Nzanga looked away and pretended to cough to hide her laughter. They were saved by the announcement that they were landing and to return to their seats. Nzanga looked out the window as the plane touched down, mind set on the task ahead of them.

They disembarked, followed all the way by cameras from news networks, and their own documentary maker, one of the bodyguards moonlighting with a smartphone. Bandu had shook her head in disbelief, but Wafängö told her that a record of their journey would be a good thing, so she ignored the camera as she led the delegation to meet whoever the Syrixians had sent to greet them. She did not bow, but grasped the jobsworth by his elbow with her left hand and shook his hand with her right. Tabia had taught her the pressure points on the arm and she applied just enough to make it uncomfortable without being rude. She smiled for the cameras and petty display over, she led her team in his wake, making pointless small talk as they disappeared into vehicles to be taken to see the Lökpälë.

---

Spoiler

lärämä - army
gümbä - lit. maturity, the Naizerri secondary education system
Bï na Lä - Night and Day
Sasêe - hunt
Gobo - lit. to box, a Naizerri combat sport
Fa Yê - instruction
Tara - exams
Pukobêla - air sickness
dâlê - toad
Ngo Gbïä - High Chief
Lökpälë - Chronicle
Marä - nation
Zâka - spear
êrepêfu - colonialism
mokili - world
dä - remember
bämarä - lions
bambî - infants
andïsi - biting red ant
bâgara-tombûga - mad cow
bakalê - know it all
buba zo - idiot
färä - boast
ase - bitter
wambëtï - derogatory, intellectual
Ngonda - savage
Barâsi - uncivilised or traditional
dä bê - remember heart - Naizerri saying meaning 'remember your home/place'
mosia - derogatory, young/immature girls
da ti sukulango ngu - remember the bathhouse

 

[Syrixia]

As it turned out, the man who Bandu had shaken hands with was Arvind Dhawan, the Secretary of the Interior. Upon arriving at the Imperial Library, which had been closed for the day due to the Naizerri visit, Arvind introduced the seven Naizerris to Lalu Kejirwal, the Secretary of DACH, and Rahul Khanna, the Secretary of State, who were waiting for them there. Arvind was slightly nervous, as was Lalu, but Rahul did not share this sentiment. The famous Syrixian optimism burned within him as he greeted the Naizerri delegation with a smile, welcoming them to the Empire.

Leading the Naizerri delegation through the Library, they eventually came to the restricted, staff-only research wing of the building. Heading into a large white research room, teams of scientists looked up when they saw the Naizerris and the members of the Imperial Cabinet enter the room. Rahul showed Nzanga to a large table, where each of the "Lökpälë", the historical papers, was laid out carefully on it, and kept securely in a laminate pouch in order to avoid damage as much as possible. "Here they are." Rahul said. "We have commissioned our best researchers on historical artifacts in order to authenticate them. I trust you will be able to either confirm or refute our findings?"

 

[St George]

Nzanga looked at the various pages of the Lökpälë for a very long time. The Naizerris in the room were most interested, with the security looking at the pages also, before a word from Tabia made them stand back to give the sweating Nzanga room to breathe. She felt nëngö, Tabia could see, as the weight of the situation was dawning on her. If this was a forgery, it would be very awkward. If she said it wasn't and later turned out to be fake, she'd be viewed as a tikîsawâ to her people, a yêkua of the Syrixian wahöngö-ködörö. It would mean fïngïngö from the Marä and her reputation and life would be ruined.

After an hour of close examination, Nzanga looked up at Tabia, shaking her head. Tabia felt a rising anger amongst the security and glared at each one in turn. A quick, hurried conversation in Sango followed.

"It's real."

"You're sure?"

"Almost entirely. The content. The techniques. The look of the ink even, all could only come from Motarä."

"So it's the Lökpälë?"

"Or a copy made at the time of the Syrixian occupation."

"Does that make a difference?"

"Not unless someone finds the original, if this isn't it."

Quiet descended back upon the room as the Naizerris looked to each other, the camera held by the third member of security taking in the moment. Nzanga turned to the Syrixians.

"I am satisfied that this could be the Lökpälë. I will need to test it but I cannot do so here. It must return to Naizerre as soon as possible." She leant forward to speak only to Rahul. "If the person who found the Lökpälë could be located... I would ask that they be sent to Naizerre also, to assist me in this task." Nzanga felt that the Naizerri-Syrixian who had found the Lökpälë should see this journey through to its end. It was boro to do so, she decided.

---

Spoiler

nëngö - a particularly crushing pressure
tikîsawâ - betrayer/traitor
yêkua - tool
wahöngö-ködörö - imperialists
fïngïngö - lit. ejection/removal - in this context banishment/exile
boro - just

 

[Syrixia]

Rahul felt immense relief. It was real. If this turned out to be a fake, it would have certainly caused an enormous scandal and jeopardized much of the government, as well as skyrocketing Naizerri-Imperial tensions. He nodded. "I can bring him here. His name is, if I recall, KaDoma Goswani. He's an archivist and cataloguer at the Imperial Museum."

KaDoma's day was getting better and better. His name was already all over the news, he had received a thousand mudras from the government, he was granted a full week off of work, and now he had just been informed that he had been invited to Naizerre by Nzanga Bandu. "Well...yeah!" he spoke into the phone. "Of course! That sounds amazing!"

Immediately after finishing the conversation and hanging up the phone, he sped out of his apartment, got in his car, and got to the museum. He was ushered in by a government representative, and escorted straight to the research room, where the Syrixians and Naizerris were still conversing. All eyes were on him when he entered the room.

 

[St George]

Whilst awaiting the arrival of KaDoma, the Naizerri team had been busy. Wafängö Tënë stepped out to make arrangements for the jet to leave at the earliest opportunity, accompanied by Bodum, who had been glaring at Nzanga since she asked for KaDoma to join them. Nzanga had ignored him and between herself and other two bodyguards began documenting the Lökpälë page by page, taking photos of them. These she and KaDoma would study on the journey back to Naizerre.

Tabia and the translator stood close by, making small talk with the Syrixians. When KaDoma entered the room she was the first to greet him, in Sango. "Zêngba, waboro." The use of the Sango word for citizen would please Nzanga, she assumed, and if they were going to be working with KaDoma, then Tabia would hide her distaste for Syrixians - for the time being, at least.

Nzanga looked up briefly from her work before beckoning KaDoma over, speaking in Sango, with the translator offering a translation that might not've been needed. "You see this section? This confirms the existence of Wamasüa, who led the first raids against Demescia."

 

[Syrixia]

KaDoma, though he had been learning some of it through his time working at the museum, did not speak Sango fluently. He spoke only Syrixian and Mercanti fluently, but he decided he would try his hand at speaking with his people's cousins. Stepping into the room, he returned Tabia's greeting, "Hello, and thank you. My name is KaDoma Goswani." His Sango was slightly broken, but it was good enough that it was perfectly understandable.

Nzanga beckoned KaDoma over to see this "Lökpälë". KaDoma thought he could make out Nzanga say, "Do you see this part? This is confirming the existence of Wamasüa, who led the raids against Demescia." He had a feeling Nzanga probably said something slightly different, but he knew that was the general gist. He responded in Sango, saying, "This fact is very interesting and great. I remember reading about him during my time at this museum."

He paused. Then, he continued, still in Sango, "I was hearing you want to invite me to Naizerre. I am very happy to come there, to help."