Nunez found this first meeting with the villagers difficult. Some children came to meet him. They were pretty though their eyes were closed and sunken. They touched and smelled him and listened to his every word. The three men kept close to him. ‘The man from the rock,’ the villagers said over and over again.
‘I’m from Bogota,’ Nunez said, `from over the mountain.’
‘A wild man – he is using wild words,’ said Pedro. `Did you hear that? Bogota! His mind is only young; he doesn’t know words!’
A little boy squeezed his hand. `Bogota!’ he said and laughed.
‘Yes,’ said Nunez. ‘In my world, people have eyes and can see.’
‘His name is Bogota,’ the villagers said.
‘He stumbled when he walked. He stumbled twice!’ Correa said. ‘Take him to the elders.’
Soon, they pushed Nunez through a doorway and into a very dark room. At the far side, there was a fire. The crowd came in behind Nunez. Suddenly, Nunez fell over someone’s legs and landed on some people.
‘I fell down,’ he said, `because I cannot see well in this room.’ He tried to stand again, but he couldn’t. Strong hands held him down.
`He stumbles because he is newly-made,’ said Correa. Others spoke too, but Nunez couldn’t understand them.
`May I sit up?’ Nunez asked. `I won’t struggle.’
The people agreed and Nunez sat up.
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