once up on a time...

There is a spirit that lives in every empty Sea shell... The sound of freedom is trapped inside and swirls... A legend says that a person can be free just listening to the wavesounds coming out of them... Once upon an endless time... some people believed the color of one skin was created for slavery... others had faith in the ocean and its sounds... somewhere along the West African coastline... a man collected sea shells he found on the beach... everyday... He would put one of them against his ear every morning... carefully listen to what the waves have to say... He was a great musician... had a very fine ear... He understood perfectly the rhythm of the ocean... His name was Caracol... The village where he grew up was totally self-sufficient... almost isolated from the outside world... Traditions and legends were kept alive there... people were free and jovial... They lived together at their own rhythm and dances... everyday they visited each others... every night night met in a different place to dance... One day Caracol found this unusual sea shell on the sand... He picked it up.. put it by his ear... was stunned by silence... He had heard tales from his elders about that rare silent shells... but never imagined he’d come across it... He ran back to his village to share his discovery... everyone was united under the oldest tree... Caracol carefully repeated word after word the legend about this silent shell... He reminded them how that silence was a sign... announcing the end of their freedom... pointing towards his house he said that each empty shell he collected year after year would be a safe place to hide their spirits... the legend said that their soul would drift to a magical land where their descendants will live free and happy again amongst colourful fishes and birds... after his speech Caracol threw the shell back in the ocean accordingly to the tale... to be continued...