It’s taken me some time to recover from this outer island adventure, a week to catch up on sleep and to rest the dancing body then the other time has just flown by. As for thriving from the experience, with a few weeks to reflect, share the stories and many photos and laughs, yes this is a good word to express the adventure.
So back to that turning point from my worst experience
(so far) in Kiribati to the best.
On the forth night of my outer island visit exhaustion
from sleep deprivation and hours of dancing on the woven coconut palm mats and
a coral floor meant one thing, I slept. Welcome relief and after a whole nights
sleep I woke at dawn to the sounds of singing (without amplification) and I
knew I was going to be OK.
I was a guest to this mwaneaba birthday celebration
along with the 60 odd people with disabilities and their family members. The
I-Kiribati people are well practised at celebrations, I have attended a few so
am getting to know the format and formalities, but week long celebrations are
another thing.
Stamina is needed.
Most mornings on hearing the first whistle blown for
the day I would stagger into the mwaneaba, this one was for breakfast and the
first of many meal and entertainment sessions that occur each day. I would
arrive with my plastic mug and plate and take my allocated spot on the mat
along with the other guests and men of the village. The village women had been
up well before dawn preparing food for the day, for breakfast this was mostly bread,
pancakes, donuts, coconut and maybe some fish and rice and large kettles of
sweet black tea. On a couple of occasions I filled my mug with muesli (Kiribati
style, crushed weet-bix & rolled oats mixed with any dried fruits or nuts I
can get my hands on) and powdered milk and ate this rather discreetly. Fruit
along with veggies are very limited here on Nonouti and on most atolls of
Kiribati.
Each day a leader from the community (male)
would MC the days proceedings which for meal times would include a story or
pray from the local minister and my new best friend (his house had a bucket
bath & a western loo). I sort of thought I understood the prayers and would
quickly cross myself as a display of knowing what was going on but I don’t actually
remember grace taking 10 minutes to recite !
This is the largest & oldest (1949) Mwaneaba in Kiribati, it is at Nonouti but not the one I went to the celebrations for. The one I went to was built about the same time but isn't as big, this one is massive inside, especially since it is all hand built with local materials.
After being served by the women who would place
massive bowls of the food in front of the eager guests everyone would tuck in.
I was happy to take small amounts at a time and consider mine a "taster plate"
with each offering sitting in it’s own space and set about to mindfully eat my meal. I could (and would) go back for more as desired. Hmm, not quite the
Kiribati way, they like to see the plate full or maybe just not see the plate
at all.
Between these rather procedural meal offerings was
much discussion, speeches, planning, dancing and music. On several occasions
after the evening meal the discussion seemed to turn to the I-matang (me !).
Given that is one of a limited number of I-Kiribati words I know I watched and
listened as discussion went from one end of the mwanabea (about 30 feet) to the
other as each person (male) stood addressed the MC and stated there point.
First up food, there seemed to be a concern that the
I-matang needed different food ! No amount of me standing up addressing “Mr. MC, Mauri” and expressing that I was fine and that I do really like fish and rice (the
staple I-Kiribati diet) was going to have them stop worrying about their guest. Of course this had to
be interpreted, which means a story is added and what seemed to take me 1 minute to say was now taking 5 plus minutes !
I really was not expecting any extra attention but of
course expectations are there to be challenged, so the next day I get presented
with a freshly cooked lobster and the following day an even bigger one !
One of the lobsters I was presented with and a committee member from the organisation I am with, he was also my translator. (I though the shirt & lobster matched nicely !) This is inside the mwaneaba.
Another evening the discussion noted that the I-matang
liked swimming (something that I really enjoyed at Nonouti as the water is too
polluted for swimming on Tarawa). So between dancing and singing there were
talks that seemed to take hours, turns out this was the planning to take me on
a “Kiribati picnic”. The best picnic ever and a highlight of my trip.
I was given head position on a flotilla of 5 local
hand crafted outrigger canoes that glide on the water leaving little wake to an
island/sandbar at low time. They had organised several women to escort me, a couple of wonderful sure footed lads with
the balance of well practised yogis and some of the older men who are at home
on the sea. We set up camp on the
sandbar and I was into the water wearing shorts and long sleeves along with my
new girlfriends.
They had been very keen that I bring my bag, I wasn’t
actually sure what I needed in it apart from water and my camera but I was
equally keen to know was in their bag, the universal old rice bag. It didn’t take long and the lads were
back with some amazing fish and out of the rice bag came the dried coconut
husks that soon became the cooking fire. I tried raw fish that was less
than 30 minutes old, and ate some of the best cooked fish I have ever tasted.
This atoll is know for it’s bone fish, seems it’s a
fighting fish and rich westerns will pay big money to attempt to catch them.
Fish is the staple food of these people and fishing a long held tradition, it was pleasing
to learn that the community will not allow this type of fishing (they use nets) and are
not interested in selling out to the Westerns ability to purchase what they
like.
From my canoe to another.
"Kiribati BBQ"
On the last night I was there it was
decided (by the men) that they would cook and serve dinner and give the women a
night off. I had heard this village was traditional and progressive so I was keen
to see this touch of role reversal.
Being men they couldn’t actually do it with out a song
and dance, so with bare and palm decorated chests the men gave a rather
uncoordinated dance to the women who were now sitting ring side and in pole
position. Then it was up to the men to serve the massive bowls of food. In my
observations Kiribati has many systems and none more than how the meals are
presented as the waiting tummies clap along. This is a well-trodden path for
the women who have watched (from the back of the mwanabea) as their mothers,
aunties and sisters have done this before them but for the men this was foreign
territory. They were on new ground as they walked about trying to work out
where to place the bowls, the response was priceless and in typical I-Kiribati
style, the women (and the rest of us) all laughed. After the meal it was time
for the men to invite their wife’s to dance, this country doesn’t appear to show
much intimacy between couples but I loved seeing one couple who really did seem
to enjoy the moment and each others company.
During my time at Nonouti my confidence was growing
with the daily speech giving so on this last night given it was Women's night I
took the occasion to have my say. I thanked the women of the village, expressed
the importance of the role of women in society, talked about International
Women's Day and congratulated the men on acknowledging the role these women have.
The person interpreting for me was an older educated
man who was very encouraging of my thoughts but I will never know what
I-Kiribati stories were told to expressed my views, I would never had thought such discussion would even take place. Then the men invited me to be their
sister (I have 5 brothers already so a few more wasn’t too daunting) so I
reckon I did OK.
The following day I was taken to the airport in the
same yellow truck along with 20 odd people to say good-bye. It was a 3 hour wait
for the plane so there were more photo opportunities !
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