Aita!

The Vicissitudes of Housekeeping in Fr. Oceania

From Our Own Correspondent

Papeete, Dec. 23.

EUROPEANS who contemplate house keeping on Tahiti should be of sound temper and unshakable faith; for failing these, their religion and self con trol-even though they survive the ord inary exasperations of domestic economy —will sooner or later crumble in shatter ed fragments, like the walls of Jericho, before the sound of the word Aita.

The soft, gently sounding Tahitian negative, Aita, does not, however, pos sess the dynamic force (as did the mass ed trumpets of Joshua) to cause a cataclysm. Its action is relentless ero sion, like “a continual dropping in a very rainy day", until the foundations of sweetness and light are dissolved.

At feraoraoraa (the twilight hour be fore the dawn), the first Aita comes to herald the new day.

The hand maiden whose duty it is to attend the early morning market has not (Aita) remembered the instructions for the day’s provender, and must awak en the housewife for their repetition. On her return, it is discovered that there is Aita coffee. The hand maiden knew of this the night before, but forgot to men tion it. This was overcome by a trip to the tinito (the neighbourhood Chinese shop) —a journey, depending on the zeal of the messenger, of from ten to fifteen min utes. Coffee is brewed. The hand maiden then discloses there is Aita sugar. Another expedition to the tinito.

At long last, the table is ready. Coffee and toast are brought in, and the cover of the butter-dish is raised to reveal— Aita butter. This, also, the hand maiden knew, but she preferred to leave the dis covery to be the thrilling climax of the morning’s drama. One more expedition to the tinito—the spoil being a tin of half-rancid butter; the freshly packed Australian product being available only at a distant emporium—and the first re past of the day is achieved.

Aita continues to punctuate the day’s happenings like commas—including the infuriating semi-colon, Aita Ravea—until eventide brings the happy intelligence of Aita Mori (no kerosene) which compels the fourth expedition of the day to the tinito for a litre bottle of that illumin ant.

Aita Ravea deserves a special mono graph to expose fully its deeper mean ings and possibilities as an irritant. On the lips of the average Tahitian, it ex presses the helpless impotence of beings fettered, bound in chains and cast into the very nadir of the impossible. Aita Ravea is usually supplied in abundance by the man-of-all-work, in the presence of any undertaking apart from his rout ine duties of pulling weeds and chopping firewood.

And so the days lengthen into weeks, and the weeks into months until one day the foundations crumble and the walls fall with great rushing of winds and ter rifying thunders. And when the dust and the debris have settled down there is nothing left save a great big Aita. The hand maiden and the man-of-all-work have been blown by the concussion into the bosom of their families in a remote district—never to return.

Mr. A. F. Ellemor, 8.A., of Victoria, has been accepted by the Methodist Mission for service in the Pacific Islands.