The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
by Sherryanne De La Boise
We visited Fiji, because we changed planes there en route to Raja Ampat. Never knew much about South Sea Islands, other than movies and paintings by Gauguin (You hear about the art museum robbers who got caught? They did not have the Monet to buy Degas to make the vanGogh).
Castaway Island, Fiji is named after Tom Hanks' movie. We selected it, because it is owned and operated by locals. The resort was filled with polite Australian families with well-behaved children. Australians go to Fiji like Americans go to Mexico. The open air buildings are wall papered with masi, the bark of the mulberry tree pounded into large sheets of white fabric. Families have unique patterns. Using brown-black ink and carved stamps, they print their pattern onto the masi. Very thin masi is used to make ceremonial garb, like wedding dresses. The men wrap large sheets around their hips, the sulu. Fijians wear sulus with collared button down shirts printed with bold flowers to indicate their conversion to Christianity. My husband wore this native outfit, much to the amusement of the tourists and to our benefit with the locals.
For, when we accidently wandered into the adjacent housing complex for the families of the workers, we were welcomed. There was an evening revival service going on. We were invited to sit on mats admist the worshippers. Of course, as soon as he got settled on that mat, like many a good Christian man, after getting settled into the pew, my husband fell soundly asleep. Just as he does every week in church at home. The fire and brimstone preacher called out "Tell the person on your left and the person on your right "God Loves them.'"
The lady on my right took both my hands, looked me in the eyes and said, "God loves you." The starkness startled me. I muttered the same to her. Then, I turned the other direction. The lady on my left gave both my hands a stiff shake as she poured into my eyes, "God loves You."
My soul heard her.
They do not do this in regular church: This is a revival. A quarter hour later, the preacher admonished us to "Tell the person on your left and your right "You have Sinned. You MUST beg for Forgiveness.'" Wow. A preacher booming this to me at home would have washed right over. I would have shrugged it off. But, an intense fellow worshipper holding my both of my hands, saying it directly to me, it registered.
We stayed for two more hours of intense fire and brimstone worship. I saw three Aussie couples on the fringe, but they left after a couple of minutes. I came away very moved. My husband was ready for coffee hour.
The next morning, our visit dramatically changed: We were brought dishes to try and taken to see where the vegetables were grown and the water treatment facilities on the far side of the island. The manager let me look at the financial records and ask questions about his business model. When they learned that I could scuba, they treated me to isolated dive sites. They were proud of my dive journal drawings. Gladly I shared my extra watercolor pencils with any interested Aussie or Fijian children who seemed to magically appear to supervise my attempts to record what I had seen underwater and correct my recording of the masi patterns.
Notes were stuck onto our cabin door asking about life in the USA and our travel plans, and would we tour the school? With very little tools and books, the children of Fiji still get a good education. We made a commitment to send a large box of books to this school twice a year. Drawing books, detective, weather, how things are built, love stories, easy readers and stories about normal American families. To keep the cost down, I get the books at Goodwill, but American sending postage is about $150 per box. The Chinese sending the same box to us would cost $4.50. While I understand that our additional cost is to pay for the health benefits, union benefits, and pensions of the postal workers. It is something to ponder, when we consider trade relations.
My husband has a military gait. The tribal leaders have recognized an old warrior in his sulu and are hosting him in a drinking ceremony. But, this story will have to wait until another week:..