My time with the natives has been different so far. That man who assists me with them has been grounded to camp, which has been a blessing in a lot of ways. I have not had to do the menial tasks that often consume my days, the ones I am not looking forward to taking over once again when he is back to scouting for food and doing his manly thing.
Today we took the natives on a small journey to stock up on foodstuffs and trade for pretties to be given as gifts. You would think that the journey would be one of wonder and excitement for them, but that is not how it went. They seemed to take their fear of being away from camp out on each other, calling names like "poopie head", "man girl", and "stick person" enough that I had to gently remind them that they should stop it immediately or fear my wrath. They laughed at me in the way they do, because they know I am powerless against them. They know they are slowly chipping away at the glue that holds my sanity in place and that soon they'll have that glue destroyed enough to convince me of anything they want.
Mistakenly, we went to a different trading post than our usual, comfortable one, and of course, arrived perfectly at feeding time. The space was crammed with people, which forced the natives to go into a frenzy of following us too closely, or stopping in front of us as we hurried to gather the necessary supplies. We bribed them with round food and hurried back to camp.
I fear what will happen with that man with me is back to his normal man thing. I fear the heat and the flies and the way the natives plot and plan. That time is coming soon. My only consolation is the installation of a cooling device in my sleeping area. I think this will do much for my morale.
We shall see.