Our chief passed away. Last Saturday. He was a happy fella. Turns out, the chief gets a very special funeral. Men could be seen (and heard) blowing into large trumpet shells, making sounds that resemble the bass keys of a church organ (Lydia decided it was the kazoos at the World Cup)… ALL NIGHT LONG. They made a continuous stream of humming from 4 PM the day before the funeral until the church service the morning of the burial. There were also tribal men (well, the youth boys of my village), in traditional grass skirts and war paint, guarding the chief’s house. We even had to have a chauffeur to get anywhere near the ceremonies. After a night of wailing snail shells we attended the burial on the beach. Our chiefly land is outside of the village towards one of our settlements.
The chief's house being guarded by men in traditional wear.
Salabogi blowing the trumpet shell around dusk.After the casket arrived, the men wrapped woven mats round the box, strategically placed rope under the casket to lower it into the hole. A prayer was said, the people threw a little sand onto the casket and then men began shoveling. After a small stone barrier was built around the burial site a handmade paper cloth, called a tapa or masi, was placed over the natural tombstone followed by the family laying flowers atop. Very quickly it was all over and the people loaded back into the boats to head back to the village.
Carrying the casket to the boats.
Loading the boat.
Funeral at the beach.
Wrapping the casket in woven mats.
Blowing the snail shells during the burial.
Forming the barrier to fill in with sand.
Laying a masi cloth on top.
Exciting side note about funerals:
1. I get a HUGE chunk of roast. They killed four cows for the late chief! So Lydia and I ate four meals in a row with beef tips.
2. I am given a new woven mat, which is always a blessing because mine deteriorate within eight months.
3. The cultural experience is priceless. How many people can say they have gone to a chief’s funeral?
4. All my educated friends come into the village. The friends and family of the people that live in the village year round come back to mourn the death. So exciting catch up time!
Collecting Sasa
So, I don’t think many of you over there in America really understand what “work” is. Stomping around in foot deep mud through mosquito and spider infested forests to find freshly fallen coconut fronds should be an Olympic sport. Lydia was a trooper when she decided to help me get sasa (coconut leaves) from the forest, up my steep mountain, and into my village.
The following day I sunned the coconut leaves, during the funeral, and afterward Lydia and I placed the coconut leaves on the floor of my house in preparation for Megan! She arrives in 4 days! Oh my goodness, Australia here I come!
Oh Fiji:
Check out thjs poster another volunteer found lately… it is of “marine animals” and includes a tree frog, a tod (toad), a shark as a whale, a hippopotamus, a tadpole, and a boa constrictor among other things. Warning, this poster was produced in Fiji.
Boys making their rounds.
The star of the show.
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