There is a small village somewhere, somewhen. One of those simple villages that have been around since long before the big cities and will still be around long after the cities and their gleaming towers will have crumbled into dust. In the centre of the village sits an old lady and a small child. The old lady is telling the child a story, it is the oldest story in the world, it is the story of the world itself, and how it came to be. If I remember correctly, it goes something like this:
In the beginning the world was empty and grey and there was no life, not a leaf, not a frog, not a sausage. The only things to exist were two stone giants, called Mumu and Lolo, and they stood like gods at opposite ends of the earth.
Now, these giants were so enormously tall that they could see right the way round to the other side of the world, and one day they caught sight of each other and fell immediately and passionately in love. Sadly though, both the giants were so large and so tall that, if either of them moved, then the whole world would tip over and roll off into space. So they called to one another, so loud and powerful were their voices. They sang songs to one another and told jokes and made each other laugh. But they were sad too, for they could not hold one another as they so dearly wished to, and they cried with this heartbreak.
They wept so much that they filled all the rivers and streams with their tears and all the lakes and seas and oceans. However, their tears nourished the dry land and things began to grow in it and it turned green and purple and silver and very lush, just like it is today. And the oceans teemed with little life which grew and crawled onto the green land and became all the life we see today. All the butterflies, and rhinoceroses and cockroaches, all the peacocks and snails and all the animals and birds you can see, or think of, or even imagine, they all came from those tears. And people too, we all came from those same tears and that same sadness.
They are still there today, Mumu and Lolo – the old lady tells the child – the two giants, standing at the opposite ends of the world, calling to each other, laughing and crying. And you can still hear them if you know how – whispers the old lady – listen carefully to the thunder next time there is a storm and you will hear them laugh. Let the rain fall on your face gratefully for it is their tears and without them we would not be here.