The Conversion Bureau - How I Learned to Teach Newfoals

How I learned to Teach NewFoals – The First Lesson

By Berry Pony

The Bronx Conversion Bureau cafeteria was a cavernous room on the ground floor with large plate glass windows. In the light of a pale gray sky, the windows showed a view of the wall of the adjoining building. Ponies and humans found themselves dining in a small corner of the echoing space.

I was licking out the bottom of my bowl of apple salad when Golden Circle stepped up to our table. The yellow unicorn glanced over at Desert Rose and turned back to me.

“Juicy Fruit?” he began. “I don't know if Desert Rose filled you in but we have been given several human volunteers to help us with the Conversion Bureau.”

The tan earth pony looked up from her plate of alfalfa spouts and rolled oats. “Not yet, Director. I still have to go over the rest of the paperwork with Juicy Fruit, assign her living quarters and fill out a Form H-15B Work Visa.” She smiled sheepishly.

“Human... volunteers?” I asked. My wings rose in concern.

“Human volunteers. There are only eight of us ponies here at the Bureau and with everything going on, we needed the additional help. One of them is waiting in the lobby even now,” Golden Circle said. “I want you to go over there and introduce yourself. Come now.”

I took the tray in my teeth, walked over and dropped it onto the dirty dishes stack and then followed Golden Circle out of the cafeteria. We left the cafeteria and turned down the hallway towards the lobby.

“Ah, there you are,” said a pink unicorn with a golden mane and tail, stepping out to block our way. “I'm so disappointed in you, Director. You used the standard speech.”

“Well... it is the speech that Twilight Sparkle wrote herself,” Golden Circle started.

The pink unicorn looked upset. “Have you really read the thing? 'Our plans are to ponify you, the sooner the better,' to quote you in the meeting.” She stamped her hoof. “You're going to scare the humans into doing something stupid.”

“Juicy Fruit,” Golden Circle interrupted. “I'd like to introduce you to Daybreak. She's the unicorn in charge of the ponification process. She is also the one responsible for requisition and procurement of supplies. Daybreak,” turning back to the pink unicorn, “Juicy Fruit will be in charge of teaching our new pegasi.”

“Charmed, I'm sure, “ Daybreak quickly said to me before tearing into the director again. “You know as well as I do that Equestria and this world are merging but the process will take hundreds of years – maybe a few thousand years. 'Expect this to happen when you least expect it' my flank.”

“But -”

Daybreak advanced on the flustered director. “We are going to rewrite that speech – explaining that we provide an option to humans looking for a better life. A life with new opportunities, choices and adventure. A life that includes flying pegasi, magical unicorns and powerful earth ponies. Clean skies and clear waters. That kind of thing.”

“But,” the yellow unicorn protested. “We're going to take over their world. Humans can't survive in Equestria -”

“Hundreds of years,” Daybreak interrupted. “Maybe a few thousand years. Equestria is expanding very slowly. Humans have plenty of time if they don't wipe themselves out in massive fighting or die out from pollution or something. We - ponies and humans - are going to be living and working together for a long time. And maybe even, given enough time... the horse will learn to sing.”

“Huh,” I said, “Singing horses?”

“It's a human story from long ago,” Daybreak answered. “Long ago, a human had broken some law – I think he was a thief - and was captured by his king – or caliph – or shah. The sources aren't clear. Anyway, before the king could sentence him to death – the humans are so bloodthirsty – the thief said 'Give me a year and I'll teach your horse to sing.' The king amused, granted the thief a year to teach his horse to sing. So everyday, the thief was in the barn trying to teach the horse to sing. Friends came by and asked the thief, 'Why are you doing this? Horses can't sing.' The thief replied, 'Who knows? I may die. The king may die. And perhaps, the horse will learn to sing.' The moral is that with time, solutions may be found. Time which we don't want to shorten with alarmist speeches.“

“Daybreak has been studying human stories and history since she arrived here,” said Golden Circle, trying to change the subject. “She's even written a short paper on 'An Introduction to the Human World for Equestrian Ponies.'

Daybreak reached into her saddlebags with her magic and pulled out a thick sheaf of loose papers. “Here is a copy.” The papers floated over to me. “You'll find them useful in understanding humans.”

I reached out to the papers, grabbed them with my teeth and tucked them under my wing. “Thank you.”

Daybreak turned back to the director. “I'll be in my office. We'll work on the speech now. Are you coming?” She trotted off.

Golden Circle hung his head and looked back in my direction. “Juicy Fruit, you'll meet with your volunteer? In the lobby? I'm going to be... busy for a time.”

I nodded.

The director followed the pink unicorn down the hallway.

I turned and trotted into a vast expanse of space. Other than a white unicorn with a green mane at the reception desk, the only one in the large lobby was a female human sitting in one of the waiting chairs. The female human stood up as I entered. Darker in color than most of the humans I had met at the meeting, she had dark brown skin, black hair and brown eyes. Crossing the lobby with big steps, she stopped in front of me, leaned down and said, “Oh my god, are all you ponies this colorful?”

“Huh?” I stuttered as I jumped backwards, my wings ready to take flight. The sheaf of papers I had tucked under a wing, fluttered all over the floor.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I'm beginning to think that all ponies are bright, pastel colors like you. Let me try again. My name is May Howard and I'm a student of cultural anthropology at CUNY – that's the City University of New York – and I'm going to be your volunteer. So, anyway, happy to be here.” She put out a hand.

I looked at May's hand.

“I guess that you're not familiar with our culture.” she laughed. “We shake hands – or hooves, perhaps – when we get introduced to someone.”

I gingerly put out a hoof and let May take a hold of it. Her hand felt soft and clingy as it wrapped itself around my hoof. It was also surprisingly warm.

She shook it. “At this point, you say your name. It's expected.”

“Juicy Fruit...” I said, “My name is Juicy Fruit.”

She let my hoof go. “That's good. Hand-shaking is an old human custom. It shows that you have no weapons in your hands. No weapons means that you come in peace.” May smiled and straightened up again. “I've met ponies and helped a unicorn with writing a quick guide to humans for ponies – ah, I see you have it already. But I've never met met a flying pony before.”

“I'm a pegasus,” I snapped. I started to look around for the pages of Daybreak's guide.

“Here, let me help you,” May said. “After all, I volunteered to help you ponies.” She started to gather the various pages together. “It's odd to see information written down like this. We – that is, us humans only use paper for ephemeral purposes. Tissue paper, toilet paper, towels – that kind of stuff. Everything else we put onto tablets.”

I paused in my hunt for pages. “Toilet paper? What's that?”

May looked nonplussed for a moment, then broke out laughing. “I guess you ponies wouldn't need toilet paper.” She fished another page from underneath a chair and added it to her stack. “It's a thin sheet of paper that you use to... in the bathroom. But tablets are much nicer. You never lose anything, you can store a whole library of information on them and this is the nicest part – your pages are always in order. Here, let me show you mine.”

May sat down on a chair and reached into her bag to pull out something that looked like a thin book. It apparently had no binding, title or pages. She pressed something on the side and an image appeared on the cover. “Here, to start it up, you run your finger across the screen. Try it with your hoof,” she said, holding it out.

I hopped into the neighboring chair and raised my hoof. “Like this?” as I dragged my hoof tip across the screen.

Nothing happened that I could see. I tried again and again. Then I changed fore-hooves and tried with my other hoof. “I can't make it work.” I said as I prepared to push on the screen harder.

“Wait,” May said quickly. “Let me see. Too much pressure on the screen will break the tablet.” She rescued her tablet from me and ran her finger across the device. A chime ran softly, the screen cleared, and showed a image of books and file folders. “I guess the thing requires the touch of real human skin to activate. Sorry, Juicy Fruit. I guess I know why ponies prefer real books and real paper.”

I glanced at the tablet's clock and panicked. “Oh, no, my lesson. I have to give my first lesson in the greenhouse. Like right now.”

May turned off her tablet and handed me her stack of pages. I snatched the pages from her hand with my mouth, dropped them on the chair with the other pages, and after checking to see that I had all the loose pages, took the sheaf of pages and tucked them under my wing again. Then I turned to head to the greenhouse.

May easily kept up with me, her long strides matching my trotting legs. “I'm really excited to be working with ponies. You know, I'm working on a paper, studying you all. Margaret Mead, eat your heart out,” she laughed. “She only worked with Samoan natives when she wrote her famous book. I'm going to be working with a completely different, non-human species. Woooo!” She grinned.

We turned the corner, passed the entrance to the cafeteria and down a broad hallway. “If you're going to be studying us,” I said as I trotted along. “why not become a pony?”

“I've considered it,” May said slowly. “First of all, as you've seen, ponies can't use tablets. All of the research materials are now online. Almost of the books, all of the journals, all of the movies and music can only be accessed with a device like I have. There's a few real books or records or discs left – but they are mostly for the collectors. Too expensive for a student like myself.” She laughed. “I'd be reinventing the science of anthropology from scratch if I went pony. Would it even be anthropology? What's the name of the study of ponies? Hippopology?”

We pushed our way through a pair of double doors to arrive in a green field of grass. Tall trees surrounded the meadow and hid the panes of glass of the greenhouse. Bright lights hung from the rafters and lit the field, providing more light than the gray, murky skies above. Behind us, the double doors swung shut.

“Besides, there's the whole question of becoming a pony,” May continued. “I'm not sure that you are same person as before. What changes? How can I be sure -” She stopped and looked around. “Wow... you ponies know how to make a place nice.”

At the far end, I spotted a small group of pegasi and humans waiting. “May, excuse me, I think that's my class,” I said as I took Daybreak's guide in my mouth, spread my wings and took to the air to land in front of the class.

There were three new pegasi in the class including the white pegasus with the blue mane that made such a memorable debut in the cafeteria earlier. The two humans were Jason who wanted to fly and his girlfriend. I put the guide down and turned to the class. “Welcome to Flight 101.”

May arrived, running across the open field to stand nearby.

I had no idea what to say next. “Welcome... to Flight... 101,” I repeated slowly. Now what?