the gran, the horse, the white man, and the bread

so i guess this is why we are what we are. handed down the generations, it seems we cannot escape from it, nor trying hard to escape it...

this is the story my mom told me when i was a kid, and repeated with her visit...

once upon a time, there was a lady, my great-gran, who sat squat-style like a poor little girl that she was when along came a sound of hooves. she was scared and could only cower down when she saw a big, big, big horse (as in really big in her own words) with a white man atop it. she was more afraid when the white soldier spoke to her:

"you! stand up there!"

all she could do back then was follow, so she stood up and looked way up, up, up. then the big man said,

"do you want bread?"

and holy, holy, holy! what a big bread it was!

---

and that, ladies and gentlemen, was my great-gran's experience with a white man and his horse. or should i say, that was the white man's experience with a cowering simple girl.

no wonder they looked down upon us before and no wonder, maybe, that experience has never left our culture. we are easily awed when we could have stood up and say, "Hey!"