sauntering, back & beyond
wayfinding, sensemaking & the lost art of howdy
codeswitching
The ocean swells intensify, far more forceful than in previous weeks. But this is not a storm brewing, at least not in the weather sense. The strong current reflects the near-distant recoiling of wide-open ocean, as water greets land and the unseen continental shelf rising below. Flotsam of green twigs with red berries, cane, and drift logs appear on the water’s surface, as reported by pilots on three expeditionary ships, which departed Palos de la Frontera, Spain on August 3 toward the Canary Islands, before bearing west by southwest into the uncharted Atlantic. The first sighting of land is reported at 2 a.m. by the sailor on-watch - Rodrigo de Triana - on a small, speedy caravel ship called la Pinta: land ahoy!
529 years ago today, October 12, on an island in the Bahamas known by the Taíno - the first people of the land - as Guanahani, strange company has come calling.
Relieved by their good fortune of landfall, the ship’s command immediately sets to task donning their finest pageantry of silks and shiny metal armaments. The expedition’s commander, captains, chief navigator, doctor, sword and pike armed soldiers, a few crew hands, and translator, suit up to go ashore.
Let’s be absolutely clear here concerning the popular myth that at this time most people believed the world was flat. All sailors and sane people with powers of natural observation knew since at least the 3rd century BCE then, as now, that the earth is not flat. Period. The expedition did the science, ran the math, as did their bankers, investors, and the Crown. In so doing, the crew hoped that the math might work in their favor. That intoxicating sense of hope fixed the expedition upon the belief that this island might be an outer island off the mainland of Japan, China, or India. Success!
With polished high-heeled boots of Spanish leather sinking into the sandy beachhead, those wading ashore plant a crucifix and patron flag of the Spanish Crown. From amongst the landing party, a man’s name is repeatedly called to come forth by the commander — “Luis de Torres, Luis de Torres, proceed to the front of the party!”
It’s here that history should excuse Luis de Torres for not instinctively recognizing his own name. That name was pretty fresh for Luis, who received it only the day before sailing on this desperate voyage. Luis was a Marrano Jew forced into Catholic conversion to avoid the horrors of the Inquisition Courts and inevitable expulsion, or death. Luis’s pre-departure life, sense of community, family, identity, and career as a highly respected interpreter happened under his given name — Yosef ben HaLevi Haivri.
Before arriving at this island in the Bahamas, Luis de Torres served as an interpreter to the governor of Murcia, his skill with language serving him well as the chief translator of Hebrew, Aramaic, Arabic, Latin, French, Spanish, and Portuguese. In this capacity, he was the mediator between the Jewish, Arab, and Spanish communities. But now, with the impending end of Iberian communities deemed different, all need for interpreters in Spain ceased.
Word-of-mouth brought the skilled interpreter, needing work, to the notice of the expedition leader. The commander knew that to secure the expedition’s success upon arrival in Asia, adept translation would be required. And, because of the Mediterranean worldview of the times, folks figured that Hebrew would be a necessity in the East, because of the Twelve Tribes of Israel Jewish diaspora, together with a second critical language, Arabic, since Arabs controlled all known trade routes to Asia. So, he thought, all linguistic bases covered.
Wading to the front of the landing party, Luis de Torres stands shoulder to shoulder alongside his Commander as the Taino reception committee approaches. Luis must now earn his keep. He looks over the approaching folk - completely nude, except for a few wearing garlands of flowers and shrubs. They are smiling, well-built, and evenly tanned. Luis de Torres immediately and instinctively knows that a Hebrew greeting will not be of any value - they are certainly not Jewish. But just maybe, Luis thought, they might maybe be some sort of far Asian Arabs?
Luis de Torres was prodded to step up, translate, and formally introduce - in the name of the Spanish Crown, the Roman Catholic Pope, and the expedition - the first howdy. When Luis de Torres opened his mouth, the appropriate language he fixed upon was Arabic, asalaam alaikum - peace be upon you. After a four-minute monologue and Luis’s sinking realization that Arabic was not connecting, he switched through every Eastern language he could muster.
Embarrassed before both delegations, Luis de Torres resorts to his only remaining option - an improvised form of sign language - not knowing that the Taino are great communicators in a very sophisticated form of signing. The rest of what goes down at that first meeting is well-documented in the commander’s fieldnotes here: The Journal of Christopher Columbus (1492); here: Christopher Columbus: Extracts from Journal; here: Columbus, the Indians, and Human Progress by Howard Zinn, and here: The Northmen, Columbus, and Cabot, 985-1503. A world-shattering failure to communicate…
Art of Encampment: the breakdown
1st edition
Nomadic & Static || Wayfinding & Sensemaking
First off, allow us to extend both howdy and welcome. We are truly delighted that you’ve joined the Art of Encampment journey.
We reluctantly use the terms “wayfinding” and “sensemaking” in the heading here, but it really is necessary for Art of Encampment. Though used and abused, any terminology can and will be co-opted and twisted by one camp or the other, until all sense of “sense” is deformed.
So words, much like moss growing on the north side of a tree or the multiple false tracks that foxes leave behind, require from us the ability to read signs and patterns in a fluid environment. There’s no substitution for experience, going beyond screens and memes and back out into the world, but you’ll probably still need words out there. There is one we particularly embrace. Maybe.
“Maybe” gets a bad rap for being wishy-washy, but we beg to differ. The superpowers contained in “maybe” are hope and potential, while also allowing other trails and routes to unfold and take shape, as needed, and as they just happen to appear.
Empire, capitalism, communism, and empirical knowledge-based systems hate “maybe.” “Maybe” surfs the wave, it flows, it wanders, it eludes confinement, and absolutes...
“What’s the use of roots if you can’t take them with you?”
— Gertrude Stein
Art of Encampment || a worldview and skillset, as well as the rucksack to put it all in when it’s time to move on…
"Keep a little fire burning; however small, however, hidden."
― Cormac McCarthy, The Road
“The World is my country, all mankind are my brethren, and to do good is my religion.”
― Thomas Paine, Rights of Man
More details about us will unfold along the way, so hold your horses, but we assure you it’s going to be worth it.
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This is great Ephraim! On small step for humans to free us from the bonds of MZ!