December 13…mornings in Paama
I love mornings in Tahi. After being awaken by the crowing roosters and rustling of chickens. I snooze for a little while…it’s 5am and I usually get up by 630. Peeling away my mosquito net, before I set foot on the ground, I first examine if there is any mouse damage or lurking eight legged friends around. I have pj pants and Christmas socks on (thanks Heather Triplett McNamara) to avoid any mosquitoes though it’s probably more paranoia than anything. Better safe than itching. I take my kettle outside to my spiquet to fill it with water then back inside to light my stove…with a match. My host mama and most other mamas in the village use fires but I am just not patient enough so I turn the gas on and light a match. As the kettle whistles I prepare my French press coffee mug (thanks cousins Robert and Monica) with some powdered milk. Coupled with these delightful breakfast cookies called Scotch fingers, I sit at my window with a view of a small corner of the Pacific Ocean and overlook the path where men with paddles are heading to their canoes to go fish for the day or mamas and kids (pikininis) strolling to the beach to collect sand or to lay bandanas leaves to dry which are used to weave mats. It’s peaceful and not yet excruciatingly hot yet. Not often do I feel the same about mornings but here, I am soaking them in.
December 14…down time
I have now sewed up a dress, bag, pillowcase and made a small recipe book for my Tawi Ana whose wedding is next week. The sewing is relaxing and therapeutic. Odd not to have a set schedule but it is summer vacation here. I am trying to appreciate the down time now but what I would do to just make some calls. I should be getting a cell phone soon, however, the reception is terrible here so not sure what good it will really do except frustrate me. The land line is down after the bombing thunderstorm. While I enjoy the time with my host family and people in the village, they are so welcoming and inclusive of me but we are still different people and they mainly speak Paamese which I am slowly learning.
The simplicity of life is endearing…Kids don’t have many toys because of the cost and toys do not last here since they have no playrooms to store them. Toys are whatever they can find…a plastic bag that is blown up and popped, slingshots made from wood and elastic or even bush knives…it’s really a child’s dream…nature is their playground. They play in the dirt and mud, are around fires that cook the family’s food, run around without fear of being kidnapped and toddlers can be seen in their birthday suits running about. Kids climb trees to get coconuts, papaya (popo) and the other plentiful fruits that grow on Paama. It’s crazy to see kids…little kids playing, chopping and prodding things with knives. Mamas and papas just get annoyed that the kids might be destroying the knife. Really!
There’s not a lot of outside influence here. The only TV they may watch are DVDs so when I ask some people if they know who Britney Spears or what McDonalds is, they say no. I am thrilled. Some think the US is a big, scary place with guns and tall buildings…which I can’t say is not true.
There was another mared (wedding) event in which all the “sisters” (also includes cousin sisters) of the groom are given food. Two cows were killed and butchered, yams are dug up and rice is purchased. Large laplap leaves are layed out and cuts of beef, yam and rice are divyed out for every “sister” to take home. I bounced around helping to cut meat, hula hoop with the kids and storian with the men butchering the cows. While I stood there with Ana’s baby Matthew in my arms and watching everyone, I couldn’t help but feel alone though. I was missing home.
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