Satiricus was ambling over to the Back Street Bar with a smile on his face. It was “Indigenous Peoples Day” and since his barkeeper Allicock was Indigenous to the bone, he was serving only Piwari, on this special day. For “cutters”, he was offering unlimited access to the Tuma Pot.
“Suh tell me again, Ali-Cack,” said Bungi as he passed the bar on his way to the back table, “Wha’ deh in de Tuma Pat?”
“Budday, is how many time ah gun tell yuh?” asked Allicock good naturedly. “It has all kind of wild meat in Guyana like wild hog, deer, wild cow, labba, agouti and some fish – all cooked in cassava water.”
“But da soun’ jus’ like peppa-pat which dem bais does cook!” complained Bungi.
“Nahh! That’s what Arawaks cook,” countered Allicock. “They does cook the meat in cassareep…We Wapishana does cook them in cassava water.”
“Na even tell me de difference,” said Bungi smiling. “Jus’ send some to de table quick!”
Satiricus and Hari were already there sipping their Piwari gingerly, with a glassful waiting for Bungi.
Bungi grinned as he polished off his Piwari in one practiced swig, “Ah how come a’yuh ah tek yuh time wid de Piwari? Like ayuh friken yuh lipstick guh run aff??!!” he asked slyly.
Satiricus and Hari didn’t reply as they eyed the big bowl of Tuma that was brought by the waitress, just as warily.
“Ayuh still worry beca’se dem Alli-cack wife chew up de cassava fuh mek de Piwari?” Bungi asked.
“Well, it does come to my mind,” confessed Satiricus.
“Suh how come when yuh drink wine yuh na worry ‘bout dem Italian lady foot a mash-up de grapes?” Bungi asked.
“That’s different,” said Hari defensively.
“Really,” said Bungi with a wide smile, “White hooman foot mo’ clean dan buck hooman mouth?”
