Wrong Ideas About

The Islands

By Glenn R. Kershner, of Culver City, California, U.S.A.

r pO-DAY I read a long article depicting A the native of the South Seas islands.

The author used all the words that could be found in the dictionary to try and belittle the native, who was happy before the white man started to pollute those islands and to try and convert the native to the ways and beliefs of the white man; and at the same time, left his own blemishes scattered over the once peace ful and clean Polynesian groups.

This morning, in the same publication.

I read where dozens had been murdered in our own lands: hundreds had been run over and killed by drunken drivers; there was murder, rape, suicide, adultery, burning of churches, lining the preachers of the gospel up against the church walls and shooting them down.

Many years ago I believed there was something better in Mexico than I was seeing or hearing about. There seemed to be nothing down there but drunkards, buzzards and cactus; but after wander ing over eighteen states of Mexico, and not carrying either a gun or a knife in my pockets, and being invited into some of the most hospitable homes by kindly and well-educated people, I left Mexico with some wonderful memories, as well as motion pictures of very interesting and beautiful buildings, both of ancient and modern architecture; pyramids, scenic views and landscapes that could be seen nowhere else.

The same is true of the South Sea islands. I have visited them any number of times in the last fifteen years, made

motion pictures and have mingled with their people, have canoed and sailed from one group to the other, sang their himenes, danced with them, was named by them —and I find them all the same— peace-abiding and loving people, with a wealth of mind that we so-called whites could well be proud to have.

A few years ago I met a gentleman who had come to Tahiti. His stay at Papeete was but the two days between the downbound and the upbound boats, and most all that time he had wandered around a half-dozen city streets. He was unsuccessful in contacts except for a few he saw, who now peddle what was once held sacred and given to the visitor as a great honour.

Now that man is going to write a

great book about the South Seas. He had seen it all in those few wakeful hours —all that we have seen in years over many islands. He imagines he knows the life. In the meantime he will meet others, get them to talk, and listen to their brag ging and betrayal. He will meet modest people who saw the islands as modest and good-thinking people do, but they will not have peculiar things to talk about.

He will not dwell long here but will hunt the library for his geographical locations and other peoples’ descriptions, and into these he will inject his hearsay know ledge and what he imagined the islands looked like. Nevertheless, the stickers on his trunk will prove he was there.

As in Mexico, I saw so many beautiful things in the islands that I lingered, pic-

The writer photographed in French Oceania, while making a South Seas motion picture.

He is wearing a wreath of wel come given to him by the natives of Tahaa

tured and studied them. So many thousands have seen my motion pictures and heard my talks on these islands that they have asked many times: Please write books on them, so we can buy them.

This I did; even went back there to finish them. Now the powers-that-be read them and say they are too modest, the word pictures are beautiful, the love interests are all that lovers want their love to be like, but —there is no debauchery in my writings; there must be murder, lust, and all the trimmings that go with them.

I am an American. Both of my great grandfathers were born in this land. But I do believe we white race should leave and let alone the islanders who have their own belief in God and in their own daily actions that speak of their unexcelled hospitality and generosity, as I have found them.

Go down there, enjoy the beauties that greet your eyes at every turn, where every tree is loaded with something good to eat, where every lagoon and little stream of water abounds with fish, where the English and French welcome you and leave you alone and try not to interfere with the traveller until he gets too unruly.

The reading public should forget all these bad little things that some smile and boast of, because there really are so few in Papeete; and those are well taken care of under police and hospital pro tection that there should be little worry.

And what is the difference if they do; that is their own land and their life — not ours to dictate. In our lands more goes on in the smallest city block of any town or city, than happens in all their thousands of little islands rolled together.

And I would like to see anyone in this country leave their doors unlocked and wide open or lie down and sleep any place, anytime and unmolested, as they can in Polynesia,