The voices of angles.................

As I sit quietly working away on my laptop, the sun has almost set and I hear the familiar “Mauri Mauri” and I turn to see seven missionary clad I-Kiribati people looking at me.

I’m sure they would have knocked politely on the double doors had they been closed instead of left wide open inviting the evening air, bugs and now angels in.

Sitting alone in so much space they must wonder why us I-matang (foreigners) have so mush stuff, have to sit on chairs and don’t wear our clothes inside out. Or maybe they just don’t clutter their minds with such things and just happily travel their god given path.

Smiles and some words were stated, maybe not all understood by either of us but I soon piece together they are a choir from a church offering to sing, and I can give them something in return !
My mind goes straight to the sounds of some great black American gospel singers like Aretha Franklin, Al Green and Mavis Staples, I’m uplifted already and transported to my own slice of heaven.

Beautiful church glass

I had heard of these local visitors and I make enquiries as to which church and village they are from. Turns out they are a catholic choir but with little knowledge of each others first language I didn’t learn from which village church they were from. They keenly listened to my words as I tried to sound knowledgeable telling them of my one excursion to a Sunday mass with the people I work with. With smiling faces and a keenness of meeting a fellow traveller of the soul their enquiry turned to what religion I was. I have come to learn this is a "tick list" question the I-Kiribati people have when meeting new people along with ones age and marital status.

The brownie points I thought I’d scored were quickly overtaken with faces of disappointment as I responded with “no, I’m not catholic”. Any attempt to explain that it was the religion I did grow up but I had jumped ship really was going to be just too challenging. One day I am going to make a note of the myriad of the Christian faiths here and probably confirm that I am the only Buddhist on this atoll.  

My visiting angels were keen to sing for their supper and for the green tobacco tin held tightly by the lead lady, so I sat on the arm of a lounge chair as my choir stood on the concrete steps with the wide opened double door embracing their beautiful harmonies.

After a few songs praising gods virtues my mind has turned to calculations and trying to piece together an appropriate exchange I can offer in return. Should the contribution be per song, per person, per minute or is it possible to purchase my very own lottery ticket to the great unknown ?

I love the use of colour and simplicity in this church

Over the months there have been a few doorknockers offering such things as fresh clams, to do the garden (with is mostly crushed coral and ocean) or a deaf man that produces a letter seeking assistance. Some turn up on “pay day”, experience had taught me to be kind and generous but the balance is giving enough to show appreciation that allows access to food but not enough that has them following our addiction to money and our purchasing of happiness.

I settle on a few gold coins (Kiribati has yet to develop their own currency and runs on the Australian dollars), the coins make their way to the green tin and they appeared happy enough, but haven’t been back !

Amen.

NEXT UP : An outer island visit