do rainbows really kill?

It was a peaceful early morning in my tiny coastal village. Coconut trees sparkled with dew against a dark gray backdrop of last night’s rain clouds as they moved westward away from the sea. Ripe mangoes drop from their branches constantly during these languid days; often their kerplunk! on my rooftop startles me out of a sound sleep. Since I’d woken earlier than most of the village I was able to enjoy a moment of precious solitude as I stood in the sandy path I walk every morning to a nearby coffee shack.

As I approached the seaside shanty, smoke wafting from the small woodfires burning under the blackened pots of coffee, tea and soup, I turned to gaze once more at the brilliant sky, where the sun was rising over the glass-like sea and lighting up each raindrop on every branch and flower.

Suddenly I noticed a glorious rainbow stretching across the entire sky; just as I took note of it, a couple children walked past me.

“Look at that!” I implored them, pointing to the rainbow and asking what it’s called in Malagasy, since it’s one of the many words I can never seem to remember. “Isn’t that nice?” I asked, altogether forgetting what I’ve heard before about Malagasy people: they do NOT like rainbows. At all.

The older of the children looked at me as if I had three heads, which is actually a look I’ve become quite used to; my presence is an endless source of amazement and often horror in children (and adults) wherever I go.

“No… it’s not nice… rainbows kill people!” the poor child retorted.

 “Really? How do they do that?” I asked, half smiling. Malagasy aren’t too good at answering “how” questions- something either is or it isn’t and that’s all there is to it.

“When a rainbow goes down to the ground, it kills,” the child said matter-of-factly, and taking hold of her little sister’s hand, moved on down the path.

Moments later, I sat drinking coffee in the smoky shack, staring out at the same seascape I’ve watched most mornings for almost two years, wondering if it’s true: do rainbows really kill people?

Well, why not? We go around saying there’s a miniature Irish man in green pants dancing around a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow. I’d like to know what a Malagasy person thinks of our folktale about rainbows. Maybe it’s true… the leprechaun kills whoever gets too close to his pot of gold.