My, How I Wanted to be a Pygmy! By Carrie Ranworth

 

When I was about 8 years old, I wanted to be a Pygmy. Pygmies are tribal hunters and gatherers, living in the Congo basin. They’ve been there longer than anyone knows. Even scientists, studying their DNA, can’t figure them out. The average adult mail reaches a height of less than 4 feet, 11 inches. They live as they did many centuries ago. Google pygmies and you’ll find out. All about their huts, camp fires where they fix their meals, and everything! I thought they were wonderful and I wanted to be one. Let me tell you about it.

First of all, I grew up in the 40’s and 50’s. Two highlights of my childhood were that we went to the library every week on Saturday and in school, every Friday, we received Weekly Readers. My Mom took us to the library in our small town of 3000 people. We walked 3 blocks. Not too many cars so soon after the war. Books were a big part of our lives…no e-books, 5-Gs, ports, recharging cords and no screens. (The only screen in town was at the Roxy Theatre and watch out, you may have to lift up your feet for an occasional running mouse!) Well, anyway, pure bliss, a building full of books! But our librarian was a meanie. Stern and forbidding. We could only check out 3 books at a time. That was the rule of the librarian. She was fierce! She scared me to death!! (I still don’t even whisper in libraries today and I’m old.)

My favorite book was “Little Black Sambo”. (Now banned, wouldn’t you know!) He was my hero. He lived in the jungle where tigers roamed. I don’t know if he was a pygmy, but he was a black boy (I know, African American) and I can still see a tiger chasing him around the jungle tree. Little Sambo ran so fast that the tiger turned into a pile of butter! (After finding that book, I practiced running fast too, just in case I ever met a tiger.) I checked that book out about once a month for a long time. I think I stopped checking it out when I reached high school.

In school, every Friday, we received a small publication called Weekly Readers. Like a small newspaper. In the afternoon, before time to go home, we read them, gazed in astonishment at the pictures and talked about the topics. They contained features about all kinds of interesting things going on around the world. Since we never left our small town very often (no car, remember?) those articles were extra interesting! But the only article I remember from 6 years of receiving Weekly Readers was about Pygmies.

My hope today is that the Pygmies are still happy. They looked happy in the Weekly Reader pictures. The children were laughing and the adults smiling. A full cooking pot was boiling over the fire in the center of the village. I’ll bet they are more contented than many of us living in modern societies today. Fewer concerns. Basic needs met. Not going to the doctor to have their cell phone neck problems fixed. I love Pygmies. 

 I still think I’d like to be one.

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