The Race

"That night, I was above a port city, which, according to History, in the 17th century, a chief director of the VOC (Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie), Jan Pietezoon Coen, named it Nieuw Hoorn, and then, Jacatra. Later, after a long time, Coen did not want to call it Batavia, after being reprimanded by Heeren Zeventien, the VOC leadership board, finally Coen, gave up." The moon greets with Basmalah and Salaam.

"If milk is set to boil in a saucepan, it boils over, " said she, "I do not know, and have never wanted to know, why this happens; if pressed, I should probably attribute it to a propensity in milk to boil over, which is true enough, but explains nothing. But then, I am not a natural scientist. In the same way, one can read, or even write, about the events of the past without wanting to know, why they happened, or be content to say that the Second World War occurred because Hitler wanted war, which is true enough, but explains nothing. But one should not then commit the solecism of calling oneself, a student of history or a historian. The study of history is a study of causes. The historian, continuously asks the question ‘Why?’; and so long as he hopes for an answer, he cannot rest. The great historian, or perhaps I should say more broadly, the great thinker, is the man who asks the question ‘Why ?’about new things or in new contexts. Herodotus, the father of history, defined his purpose in the opening of his work: 'to preserve a memory of the deeds of the Greeks and the barbarians,' and in particular, beyond everything else, 'to give the cause of their fighting one another.'

I was not intending to find the answer of 'What is history?,' because my light was centered on a unique architectural building, and it turned out, a stadium. It must be, I thought, be a new landmarks, a new history course for the city. Then, I got interested in the area around the stadium, there was a circular 'pitlane', and the race, just ended.

So, wanting to know who won the race, I looked around the circuit for information, but found nothing. My attention was drawn to a Kombi, contained several men. I didn't know exactly how many of them, what I did know, was a song from Men at Work, a band from the Land of Kangaroo, playing from the Kombi's car-stereo,

Traveling in a fried-out Kombi

On a hippie trail, head full of zombie

I met a strange lady, she made me nervous

She took me in and gave me breakfast 

She said, 'Do you come from a land down under?

Where women glow and men plunder?

Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?

You better run, you better take cover!'

Suddenly, there was a sound like tires screeching, 'cause by the driver braked suddenly. The rear passenger, awakened from his deep sleep, asked, 'What's wrong Bro?' The driver replied, 'Sorry... sorry Bro! There's a tortoise crossing!' Simultaneously, the passengers said, 'What? Turtle?' Other said abruptly, 'Tortoise in the yacht!'

'Yes! Look!' said the Driver, and all eyes of the men in Kombi, saw a tortoise, slowly but surely, walking across the road. Not a bit bothered, it kept walking, as if to say, 'Victory is always possible for the person who refuses to stop fighting.'

Eyes of the men followed where the tortoise walked, until it finally disappeared into the darkness of the night. 'Bro, we'd better stop for a bit, out front, by the beach, to get rid of the blue!' said one of them. All agreed.

Afterwards, the Kombi was parked by the beach, it was cooled by the breezy wind. There was silence for a while, until someone said, 'Bro, do you want to hear a story, about tortoise?' The rest replied, 'Certainly, tell us, please!' So, the man told them a story,

It was said, in Ancient Rome, when the toy had once taken Jupiter in the head to enter into a state of matrimony, he resolv’d for the honour of his celestial lady, that the whole world should keep a festival upon the day of his marriage, and so invited all living creatures, tag-rag and bob-tail, to the solemnity of his wedding.

They all came in very good time, saving only the tortoise. Jupiter told him ’twas ill done to make the company stay, and ask’d him, 'Why so late?'

'Why truly,' says the tortoise, 'I was at home, at my own house, my dearly beloved house, and home is home, let it be never so homely.' Jupiter took it very ill at his hands, that he should think himself better in a ditch, then in a palace, and so he pass’d this judgment upon him; that since he would not be perswaded to come out of his house upon that occasion, he should never stir abroad again from that day forward, without his house upon his head.

The moral of the story is that, a beggar, may be as proud and as happy in a cottage, as a prince in a palace.'

While others were nodding, Collins Hay's song, kept on flowing,

Buying bread from a man in Brussels

Six foot four, full of muscle

I said, 'Do you speak-a my language?'

He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich

And he said, 'I come from a land down under

Where beer does flow and men chunder

Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?

You better, better run, you better take cover!'

'I know a story about tortoise too!' said another. 'Then, tell us!' asked the other. 'I think, all of you, ever heard the story,

A Hare, insulted a Tortoise upon Account of his slowness, and vainly boasted of her own great speed in running. 'Let us make a match,' replied the Tortoise, 'I’ll run with you five miles for five pounds, and the Fox yonder shall be the umpire of the race.' The Hare agreed; and away they both started together. But the Hare, by reason of her exceeding swiftness, outran the Tortoise to such a degree, that she made a jest of the matter; and finding herself a little tired, squatted in a tuft of fern that grew by the way, and took a nap; thinking, that if the Tortoise went by, she could at any time fetch him up, with all the ease imaginable. In the mean while the Tortoise came jogging on, with a slow but continued motion; and the Hare, out of a too great security and confidence of victory, oversleeping herself, the Tortoise arrived at the end of the race first.

Up and be doing, is an edifying text; for action is the business of life, and there’s no thought of ever coming to the end of our journey in time, if we sleep by the way.

'Everyone's ready? Let's continue our journey!' said the driver. 'Ready Bro!' said another, 'But wait a minute, I'm curious, where did the winner of this afternoon's E-Prix, come from?' asked another, and the other answered, 'From a land Down Under!'

And so, the Kombi slid away, accompanied by a song,

Lying in a den in Bombay

With a slack jaw, and not much to say

I said to the man, 'Are you trying to tempt me?

Because I come from the land of plenty'

And he said, 'Do you come from a land down under?

Where women glow and men plunder?

Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?

You better run, you better take cover!' *)

Before she took her leave, the Moon said, "The race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong, but it is not often that the turtle beats the hare. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle always to the strong, and the handshake or the first bump, is given to the most deserving. The one who wins in this life, for the most part, is the one who deserves to win; correspondingly, the one who loses, deserves to lose. Hugh Keough said it in a different way, 'The race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong, but that’s the way to bet.' And Allah know best."

Citations & References:
- Sir Roger L’Estrange, Kt., Fables of Aesop and Other Eminent Mythilogists : Morals and Reflections, John Gray and Co
- Samuel Croxall, D.D., Fables of Aesop and Others, Simon Probasco
*) "Down Under" written by Ronald Strykert & Colin James Hay

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