Or: Why this is NOT Columbus Day
Here is this guy. He has several boats worth of men with him on a trip into the unknown. They are lost, hungry, tired. Many are sick. Some have died already. They probably stink worse than an open sewer riddled with rotting bodies. Which is not far off of what they actually are…
They encounter these wonderful, beautiful people, whose like they’ve never even imagined. These people come out to the ships, bearing gifts of food and kind welcome. They are smiling and generous and solicitous of every need. And what is the first thing recorded by this man in his journal?
The natives would make really pliable slaves.
Not one of the better moments for white guys.
Makes one wish the Taíno peoples hadn’t been so kind…
©Elizabeth Anker 2022
By My Solitary Hearth 