The sun has come out after about a week of solid rain. This is taken on our front lawn, looking across at our neighbour's property and the beach beyond it. I am still astounded by just how much it can rain here - the length of time and the sheer volume of it. No wonder people light fires to burn their rubbish anywhere they please - under trees, next to buildings - everything is always so damp, a bush fire would never spread.Anyway, it is Sunday morning. C stayed the night at a friend's place and I slept in. Thought about going to church - but decided to go for a walk on the beach and talk to God in the sunshine instead. There were hundreds of coconuts washed up on the shore. On the way back I saw our neighbour over the road, Aunty Te'ei, raking her leaves (she is a Seventh Day Adventist). We sat on her verandah and talked about the old days, when there was no power on the island, and how they would often run out of flour, sugar, salt and so on. Her mother would make sugar from sugar cane, and her father salt from the sea. Everything was cooked on the fire or in the earth oven. And they ate fish every day; and shared everything they had.
She told me a little story about when her friend from New Zealand was visiting recently. One day, the friend said, (and this is more effective if you read the whole thing with a strong island accent), "Aunty, someone is out the front picking breadfruit off your tree."
She told me a little story about when her friend from New Zealand was visiting recently. One day, the friend said, (and this is more effective if you read the whole thing with a strong island accent), "Aunty, someone is out the front picking breadfruit off your tree."
"And?" said Aunty.
"I will go and tell them off," said the friend.
"Why?" said Aunty.
"Because they didn't come and ask you first."
"Don't do that," said Aunty, "They are welcome to help themselves."
That's the way of the islands, you just help yourself. I am still not all that comfortable with it, it is such an ingrained, western, white-and-polite thing to ask for permission. Anyway, true to form, she gave me some passionfruit to take away, and a breadfruit. After lunch today I will husk some coconut and make coconut cream, in which to cook the breadfruit. Delicious!
Lately I have been wondering if my time here has changed me in any way, if I am any different. Sometimes it sure doesn't feel like it; it can feel busy and stressful same as anywhere. Then this morning I noticed how I have a tonne of stuff to do in the next fortnight - truly, a whack of articles to write on a tight deadline, as well as a lot of things to organise before our next outer island trip (more on that soon) and lots of cleaning and washing to do after all the rain - BUT it is Sunday, and it's nice to just chill out, husk my coconuts, maybe sleep, maybe I'll take C and her friend somewhere for a swim, maybe not. A day for talking on the verandah. There is a lot to do, but it doesn't need to be done now. And that's the kind of day my heart needs. So. Maybe I have changed a little, after all.
********
