The village plaza was also the cemetery, laid out and kept

Early Saladoid villages were built around a central plaza used for daily work and for communal ritual. At several sites the plaza is also a burial ground, holding hundreds of interments with very few graves cutting into earlier ones. That detail carries the argument. Avoiding overlap across hundreds of burials and many generations requires that people knew where the dead already lay, which means the ground was surveyed, remembered and treated as a plan rather than filled at random. The ritual objects recovered from these spaces are small and widely scattered, which suggests much of the ceremony conducted there was personal or family sized even though the space itself was shared. So the centre of the village was where people worked, gathered and kept their ancestors, in one place, deliberately. These farming and seafaring communities held to that arrangement across the islands for centuries, and it stayed the focus of their social life.

The Council of Nicaea met in 325 CE to settle what Christians were required to believe about the nature of Christ. The argument was carried by Alexander, the Egyptian patriarch of Alexandria, and by his student Athanasius, who between them defeated the position that Christ was a created being. Out of the council came the doctrine of the Trinity and the statement of belief still recited as the Nicene Creed. Every later century of Christian theology in Europe was built on that foundation, and it was fixed in place by two men from Egypt. The other decisive figure of the period was also African. Augustine was born in the fourth century at Hippo, in what is now Algeria, of Amazigh descent, and his writing on sin, grace, predestination and the standing of the church shaped Catholic doctrine for sixteen hundred years and handed the Protestant reformers their arguments as well. He learned his trade inside an African intellectual tradition that had already produced Tertullian and Cyprian.

Latin speakers had a single word family for substances that acted in ways nobody could watch. Uenenum covered a potent herb, a magical influence and a poison, and out of it came a verb meaning to bewitch or to infect, a noun for the act itself, and uenefucus, a word for the person who did such things, used of men and of women. In the late republic the Roman state grew worried enough about those people to pass a law in 81 BCE against causing sudden or unexpected death by concealed means, whether the means were chemical or magical. The law treated the two as one offence. Sixteen centuries later, courts in Martinique and Suriname were still hearing cases in which nobody could say whether the accused had used a plant, a powder or a spell, and the statutes they used descended from this one. The vocabulary carried the ambiguity across two thousand years.

Around the middle of the fifth century CE, people speaking Arawakan languages arrived on Aruba, Curacao and Bonaire, the islands lying off the coast of Venezuela, and brought pottery making with them. Their arrival marks the start of the Ceramic age on those islands. Somebody was already there. The earlier inhabitants belonged to the Archaic age, made a simpler set of tools, and are physically distinguishable in the skeletal record by the shape of the skull. They were displaced. Rouse records the sequence in the flat language of archaeology, and the flatness is worth noticing, because the displacement of one population by another is a thing that happens to people. These three islands sit where the South American mainland meets the Caribbean, which makes them a gauge for movements that later reached the whole chain of the Antilles. What happened here in the fifth century had happened elsewhere before and would happen again, long before any European ship arrived to start the count.