Taupongi Of Rennel

Missionary Has Embarrassing Guest

RENNEL Island—in the Southern Solomons—is one of those in explicable Polynesian (or Micro nesian) “pockets” found in Melanesia, and this story (told by Miss V. M.

Sullivan, of the South Seas Evangelical Mission, in the SSE mission magazine), concerns one Taupongi, chief of Rennel. who possessed all the poise and dignity of his race.

Taupongi came to the SSE mission station at One Pusu, Malaita, BSI, to be educated. He was very keen to learn, because, to- his mind, it was unthinkable that any of his men should know more than he. He arrived in the mission schooner, six feet of him, well developed, his limbs tatooed to denote chiefly rank, wearing a mop of hair and draped about the loins with tapa cloth. He stood non chalantly on top of the cabins with 11 other Rennelese, tweezing hairs out of his face by clipping two shells together.

The mission folk were glad to have him, but their gladness was tempered with some anxiety as to whether they would be able to make him happy, or whether he might become ill there in Malaita.

Rennel is a “closed” area, to missionaries, as well as laymen, and had Taupongi felt slighted in any way he might, when he returned to his island, have forbidden any more of his men to go to the mission for teaching.

The chief was duly shown to the house reserved for the use of the Rennelese. but an hour later he was discovered by Miss Sullivan wandering about with a very

downcast expression. He was asked what was wrong. “No good! No good!” was his reply, and it was gathered from his sketchy English that he was dissatisfied with his house. He pointed out that if the missionaries had come to Rennel he would have asked them to share his house. Now he clearly expected them to return the compliment and share their house with him.

As he had never seen a European house or its contents before, how was he going to take it? What would he think of a bed? How would he manage a knife and fork? Would he like the food? The missionaries were perplexed.

“Then,” says Mass Sullivan, “Mr. Waite had a happy idea. He said that Tau pongi could occupy the room next to his and that they would have their meals together at a small table on the verandah.

This would save us embarrassment and ease the situation. When Taupongi was told the proposed arrangements he made no difficulty.

“He was shown to his room containing a bed (from which the mattress had hastily been removed), a table and chairs, etc. It was explained to him that he must bathe every day, and wash his hands before meals, and to this he readily agreed.

“A small table was placed on the verandah and set for two. From a con venient peep-hole we watched to see how things were proceeding, and we were not the only interested onlookers, for boys swarmed on to the verandah on any pre text in order to see Taupongi eat.

“To him it was a great occasion; he was so anxious to do the right thing. First he had to be shown how to handle his knife and fork instead of the shell which he would ordinarily use as a spoon.

“Mr. Waite had the smallest appetite of anyone I have known, and Taupongi the biggest; and unfortunately he thought he could only take a mouthful when Mr.

Waite did.

“Mr. Waite went on and on eating till he could eat no more, and still Taupongi was hungry. Nothing would induce him to continue, however, after Mr. Waite had finished.

“This went on for two days, Mr. Waite eating more than he needed and Tau pongi not enough, and still we could see no way out of the difficulty.

“Then Taupongi suggested that Mr.

Waite might have a meal with him once a week, so that he did not forget his table manners.

“At the end of the first meal, Mr.

Waite mechanically picked up his ser viette to wipe his mouth, so Taupongi picked up his piece of bark cloth which he was still wearing, and tried to do the same, mumbling ‘no good, no good!’ He had then to be given a serviette—which after a few days could scarcely be recog nised.

“We tried to interest him in his great chief, the late King George. The only question he asked about him was, ‘How many woman?’ meaning, ‘How many wives has he?’ And when he was told ‘only one,’ he showed no further interest in him, thinking no doubt that he was not of much importance. One day we dis covered to our horror that he thought we (five of us) were all Mr. Waite’s wives!”