ABSTRACT
Professor Quesay was very pleased with his research on a recently discovered community. One family had invited him to a special dinner in honour of the community’s oldest member’s seventieth birthday – and as that was a mark of great respect he said he would be honoured to go. Grandfather Alloi, together with his slightly younger wife, Grandma Alloi, had been his main oral history source for many fascinating accounts of their traditions. These people were descendants of an ancient Greek society who had left their homes in Mesopotamia to set themselves up on a remote peninsula in the Americas. The venerable – but still very sprightly – old man had seemed particularly keen to tell someone all he knew. The dinner was an elaborate affair. During the second introductory
course of dried fish and asparagus roots, Professor Quesay noticed that the guest of honour, Grandfather Alloi, was not there. Grandma Alloi and the other guests were most surprised at the question. Surely the learned professor had realised that the dinner was in honour of the seventieth birthday of Grandfather Alloi? And he was familiar with the customs of the Alloi? ‘Yes, yes’, said Quesay, embarrassed at appearing ignorant. But he
still couldn’t see Grandfather Alloi. And what was it that the Alloi had had as their particular custom for the old?
