Saturday, 18 March 2023 // Peter's 70th, Greig full circle
It’s just after seven in the morning. Saturday. I’m on the way back to Rodney Edward’s home where I have been staying, at his small rental house.
I woke this morning in the mwaneaba, in Tabwekea, where last night we celebrated the 70th birthday of Rodney’s father, Peter.
The mwaneaba is a community center, and there are dozens of them on the island, if not more. More often than not they are associated with one of the many churches, or maybe a school. The rare municipal one. In this case, it’s the LDS church.
According to tradition, the men sit in the inner quadrangle, and women and children in the outer perimeter. Of course, kids run wherever they want to and it’s really all about families in the end. In the old days, everyone would sleep over and you can often find somebody sleeping in one now. Or in the afternoon kids playing soccer in them.
Last night a half a dozen groups stayed, each picking their corner. I had bought a pandanus sleeping mat, I bought just last week ,so I brought that. But the truth is, that woven mat is probably thinner than a carpet. It creates a space, but I can’t say it makes a great bed. Four of the others brought foam mattresses, and only one other had a sleeping mat like mine, but it was a plastic Chinese one. The guest of honor, Peter chose to sleep near me.
In a few hours, we will get some gasoline and take a boat from here in London, and motor over to what was once Paris, the northern tip of the southern peninsula. I have never been to the original Paris.
It was a feast last night. I could not believe how much food was put out. There was pumpkin and a pudding-like substance made from the fruit of the pandanus. Tuna marinated in coconut milk, with okra was very good. Several different ways of cooking chicken, including in curry. Rice, of course. So many crabs and lobsters I could not count. A small pig had been boiled, and then roasted. Nothing fancy to it. But it tasted good. Everyone drank from fresh coconuts that has been culled earlier in the day.
Peter and I bond over our love of history, and the fact that we have a shared history is pretty spectacular. He is descended from a Scotsman named Grieg, who settled on nearby Fanning Island after tiring of the sailing life, marrying the sister of the Cook Island King, back in the 1800s.
That family name is mentioned on the very last page of my grandfather’s journal, as when he finally got off this island, and made it over to Fanning (now Taburean). The Greig’s, who were big and powerful by then, would not help him financially in anyway.
Today the Greigs help me daily. It’s a nice, full circle.
I am dictating this into my phone. It’s much easier than typing. With my left hand not working as it should, the fingers being numb (arthritis), I can’t type very well. I tried to play my neighbors ukulele the other day, and could not play at all. I would not like to think that my guitar playing days are behind me.
In other news, the cargo ship came in yesterday, and has been unloading, which means there will be more products in the stores. The cargo ships come every three months.
Peter Edwards, 70th birthday botaki. Peter’s a special guy. He’s the kind of guy I’d hang with back home. Unassuming manner, he’s a master of his environment, capable of dissuading a shark when night fishing, or adept at discussing the old and new ways ofd the world. Carries himself with a quiet dignity, but you know there’s a rascal inside that has been around the block — or the islands — more than a few times.
This birthday botaki had far too much food: taro, spiny lobster, several kinds of chicken, crabs, rice, plantain chips, and so much more, all washed down with fresh coconut water, right from the nut. The evening is topped with karaoke, a tradition for all botakis, I come to learn.
Cargo ships come in every three months or so, from Tarawa, where the capital of Kiribati can be found. The ship comes from Fiji, first. Once in port at Tarawa, goods that have been sent from Honolulu to Tarawa are then loaded, which is how some American products — like M&Ms and Snickers bars — end up here. Folks are glad the shelves are again full.