Lovina

Fragrant Memories of Old Tahiti

From Our Own Correspondent

Papeete, July 10.

THE recent demolition of the building known as Aina Pare has removed from Papeete an old landmark rich in memories; for the Aina Pare was for merly the annexe of the Hotel Tiare and the Hotel Tiare was Lovina.

To older residents and to travellers from the four quarters of the world, who visited the island at that period, the

name Lovina reincarnates the old Tahiti, the true Tahiti of the Tahitians, the un spoiled Tahiti of the early days of the century.

She it was who made known, and inter preted to them, all that was interesting and fascinating and amusing of the nat ive life of the Islands. Interesting and fascinating because charming hospitality, courtly manners, stately ceremony, and glorious music still survived with the elders who cherished them as a heritage.

Lovina in her person represented all that was best in the Tahitian character — charm of manner, faith in friendship, the unselfish seeking for that which would

make for the happiness of those about her.

Money seemed to have no value for her where the comfort of her guests and the welfare of her friends were involved.

She conducted her inn, rather, on ac count of her love of hospitality and the excitement of being the centre of an ever changing company.

Lovina was a famous cook —one of those gifted with natural genius who can stand before a row of steaming pots and pans adding a pinch of this savoury and that condiment, to produce flavours fit for the gods and kings. If she liked you, there was always some special dish pre pared by her own hands to delight your palate, in addition to the regular menu.

From the far lands of the earth men and women came, fell under the charm of Lovina’s personality and departed, to associate her forever more with their memories of Tahiti.

When she died (the first to go in the epidemic of Spanish influenza in 1918) there was grief in hearts all over the world. With her going, passed a charm, an atmosphere of old Tahiti, which can never return.

Some time ago, it was announced that a new management would re-open the Hotel Tiare and conduct it after the manner of Lovina’s day.

We, the survivors of that time, went

The Hotel Tiare as it was in Lovina’s day; and (inset) Lovina.

to the opening. Everything was well done. The verandahs were decorated with festoons of Auti leaves and flowers and hanging branches of bananas and oranges such as we had been accustomed to see there. The younger people laughed and danced and gave to the place the appear ance of the old gaiety. It was a good imitation, a perfect imitation.

But we elders sat about and looked at each other —and our eyes were moist.

Lovina was not there. The spirit which had given life and zest and charm to these surroundings was gone forever.