(2) School: first day

Three Stories

On Pacific

Childhood

A number of students taking the three-year Diploma of Education course at the University of the South Pacific are preparing a collection of childhood reminis cences for possible publication. The collection is being edited by Satendra Nandan and Noel Harrison , two lecturers at the university.

The main idea is to present a personal impression of\ childhood in the Pacific by gathering together ex-\ periences from the 10 island groups which make up the university’s region. They’ll cover mainly the six to 12 age-span.

The collection is not intended to be in any way com- 1 plete. Nor can any claim be made that the experiences\ are typical of all children in all places in the Pacific.

The reminiscences should, however, show with honesty and intimacy part of the life of the Pacific] from the point of view {low, and close to the ground) of some of the young—filtered admittedly by a selective\ memory.

Here are three short extracts from accounts written] by two of the students, Miss Birmati Lakhan, from Ba,\ and Mr Malakai Tawaki, from the Lau Islands.

(1) The summer the sun did not blow up

By Birmati Lakhan

SOME time during the Christmas holidays, when I was about six, a rumour spread rapidly among the children in our village that soon the sun would break. Instead of sunshine and rain, showers of fire and glowing splinters would fall.

This story filled me with great fear. My younger sister, my cousins and friends all wanted to know just when this was going to happen. An aunt told us it would be just over a month that the sun would blow up, and the sea would rise and drown all the land and all the houses.

At first we all cried. Then we got into a group and tried to think of ways we could save ourselves. I sug gested that we dig a large hole, get inside, and cover ourselves with a big wet rug.

But an older cousin—he was eight —said that we would be baked to death inside, and that when the seas rose boiling water would fill the hole and all our dead bodies would float away.

My idea was dropped.

We then decided that if we managed to buy a big boat we could get into it and float on the water that would save us from drowning.

But we still had to solve the problem of being baked by the heat.

We thought that if we could carry a big—very big—refrigerator on the boat we would be safe. We decided that we’d have to light a small fire inside the refrigerator, just enough to stop us from freezing.

With this bright idea we all went to our eldest brother and told him

what we needed—a steel boat (so it wouldn’t burn), and a refrigerator.

He was surprised, because most adults hadn't heard the rumour. It was circulating almost entirely among the children. He scolded us and told us not to be silly.

When we went to our parents with the same request for immediate help they called a meeting of all the older people. The rumour was getting out of hand. Children were not eating properly.

Later on my mother told us that if we ate our food we’d be given a boat just before the sun broke.

My father and older brother were very angry and tried to find out who

had started the rumour. It was finally; traced back to the Readers’ Digest.

A 14-year-old girl had read an article in the Digest which said that after millions of years the sun might explode. As the story went from mouth to mouth the time changed from “millions of years” to “next month.”

My brother explained to us that God would never allow such a thing to happen because if he killed all the people in the world he would be committing a great sin. And God would never commit sin. This helped us to lose our fear.

Months passed, the holidays ended, and the sun stayed in one piece. We relaxed.

(2) School: first day

By Birmati Lakhan

IWAS 5i years when my elder brother and Mum decided that I was ready to go to school. My mother went to the town, bought some material for my uniform, and made it. I was very excited and impatiently waited for the day when I would go to school.

One morning my mother woke me early and prepared everything for me.

She dressed me smartly into a blue uniform with white collar and belt, and brushed my hair nicely. My older sister parcelled my lunch and made me eat breakfast.

At 7.30 I left home with my elder brother, who was in Class 6, and walked about 3i miles to school.

I saw many new faces, and above all. teachers who appeared very strict and ordered children to do duties such as picking the papers and cutting grass.

My brother took me to the office where the head teacher enrolled me into the school. He was middle-aged and wore glasses, of which I was very frightened. However, he told me not to fear him, patted me on my.

nead and told me to go to the Class I classroom.

My brother took me, gave me my food, chalk and slate and told me to stay there till he came back at recess.

This first day was adventurous. At 8.30 am I found myself in a class room with many small boys and girls af my age. Many children were :rying and trying to run out of the room. There was only one teacher and she was busy controlling the naughty children who were making things harder for her.

Those children who remained quiet

she gave them a piece of chalk and told them to write numbers one to ten on our slates. Slowly we started to write the numbers.

Most children stopped crying and running away but one boy was very difficult to control. He ran from the classroom and when the teacher asked some big boys to catch him he started to bite and spit on them.

The teacher became very cross and beat him with a thick ruler on his back and head. This made all of us very frightened and we all remained quiet. The boy stopped being naughty.

After a long time the teacher asked us to show her the numbers we had written. We all took our work and showed it to her. The teacher gave us ticks and crosses. I remember a big cross on my slate while a girl sitting beside me had a big tick.

I did not know the meaning of the cross but was very happy because to me the cross appeared more interest ing than the tick. Instead of rubbing it off 1 took the slate home and showed it to everyone. My brothers teased me. My mother told me what it meant.

She had never been to school herself.

(3) The old order changeth

By Malakai Tawake

A BIG change came into the life of our family when we were converted to another Christian religion. I never knew what religion we belonged to before this time but at about the age of four we became Seventh-day Adventists, Changes came very quickly. We were forbidden to eat pork and many other things. Therefore we had to give all our pigs away to relatives during our reformation. This was really great. It meant we didn’t have to feed the pigs any more, and that was one of the jobs I hated most.

But my father also had to sell his movie theatre—to a Chinaman—and that wasn’t so good, because I’d enjoyed seeing the films.

In the home things began to change also. More emphasis was placed on the Sabbath and its observance. As the Sabbath approached all the things at home were kept in order. My mother would be busy preparing food and mending clothes and getting everything ready so nothing would have to be done on the Sabbath itself.

The Sabbath began at sunset on Friday and finished at sunset on Saturday. We weren’t allowed to make any unnecessary noise, or play, or work during those hours.

When we played during the week with other children they mocked and laughed at us, calling us the Seventh day-keepers, particularly when we didn’t participate in school sports on Saturdays.

I was very miserable and ashamed when students of my own age made a great fuss about my not eating pork or crabs because this was con trary to my new belief. These re marks were insults to my religion and to my parents.

We weren’t even allowed to take part in school bazaars which were held on Saturdays and which included mekes and yaqona ceremonies, I wanted to attend but it was all pro nounced evil and wrong.

Similarly, when there was death or marriage in the village, members of the clan were expected through custom to show signs of respect by attending the various ceremonies. This was one of the occasions when children were taught about traditions and customs. You were made aware of your status and of the social order of the community.

To this day 1 still don’t under stand why my brothers, sisters and myself weren’t allowed to join in these ceremonies.

While the other children would be having fun and would be feasting in the ceremonial ground—known as vanua-ni-soqo —we’d be carrying on with our normal everyday activities at home. We were forbidden to attend any ceremonial gatherings.

Furthermore, if food were offered to us from such gatherings we weren’t allowed to eat it. The new religion forbade it, for what reason I never knew.

I was deprived from learning the essential and important ceremonial activities of our community in the traditional manner. I never knew my roles, my status, my social class.

I was never able to understand my link with the rest of the clan mem bers (mataqali), or of my duties and obligations to them and them to me.

I knew only my very few close relatives.

At the other extreme I was under constant pressure from home to devote my time to learning my Bible,

and memorising verse after verse from it. 1 was not only learning par rot-fashion, but I was also drilled on what not to eat. how to keep the Sabbath “holy", how to conduct my self before elders, how to dress, and, specially, how to be a hard worker.

Time passed very slowly at church services, and I remember one day when I tried to slip away and join the rest of the boys swimming in the river.

The sermon was long and boring.

It was the same sermon preached over and over again; the same intro duction, the same illustrations, and the same Bible verse. My mind was not on the message. It was on swim ming. 1 had to keep an eye on the head deacon. He acts as the disciplinary man in the church, makes sure that everyone closes their eyes in prayer, and that there's no talking and

whispering or anything that might

distract from the church atmosphere.

If anyone was guilty of an offence the head deacon would escort him out of church. Usually he carries a rod as an instrument of peace.

When everyone was praying and the head deacon was not looking in my direction I crawled without hesitation toward the door. I made one last cat-like jump. While I was still in the air I felt a huge hand clutch the collar of my white shirt.

Shaking, I stood in silence. My face was pale and I was frightened.

At the end of the service I was reported to my parents. I missed my Sabbath lunch and was told to wait for the afternoon to be caned.

This was not the only time I was in this sort of trouble. I was penalised on these occasions even

more severely for breaking the rules and conduct of the church.

Much emphasis was placed on reverence, particularly inside the church.

My whole childhood was filled with “Don’t do this” and “Don’t do that”. I was like a piece of delicate machinery tuned and driven accord ing to the desire of the driver. I had lost my right and honour to be my self, to be an individual with his own perspective.

I was deeply confused at this time.

I was lost among my own people, I wasn’t readily accepted into the community. The new religion had brought a new way of life to the family. The spirit of individualism and desire for material wealth and riches was encouraged as a result.

At times I felt that we were ostracised by our own clan members and friends. The great bond of kin ship, and communal ownership and communal togetherness, had disinte grated. I was lost because I never knew my traditional customs, I am a lost soul.