The Standing Mirror of Tangaroa

Ina Ina

(Fourth in a series that starts with Land of the Birds):

Mama and Papa Tu's son, Ina Ina, who lives in another village, was here for dinner tonight. We had taro leaves (somewhat like spinach, but tastier) cooked with corned beef, fish in coconut sauce, bread, butter, boiled bananas, and a choice of tea or coffee. The fish was excellent. The boiled bananas take some getting used to, their taste and texture somewhat like artichoke hearts, only more dense. We started eating before Papa returned from the bath house, and Mama taught me to slurp my food as a sign of enjoyment. When Papa came in we demonstrated, and after that we all ate noisily. I'm sure they had restrained themselves from this in earlier meals.

This led to a story from Papa about a visit to New Zealand, when his older brother taught him how to use a fork. In one restaurant Papa embarrassed his brother by asking a member of the staff if he could eat with his hands. The answer was "Yes." Then lobster was brought in, and Papa felt a step ahead of everyone.

Islanders & Earthwatch team; I'm in red shirt, middle

Saturday, July 9: We had our first work day yesterday, but not a long one, only about five hours. We can walk to this site and cleared off about one-third of the Marae at Vairokaia, on land next to my family's plantation. Among the whole team we excavated pig's teeth, a flake, and what appears to be the top of a fireplace, as well as many shells. The boys from the village, who helped us clear away the site, climbed up nearby trees and brought us fresh coconuts to have with our lunch. After drinking the coconut milk, we were shown how to scrape the fresh coconut out with our thumb nails.

Musicians at singing competition

In the evening there was a singing competition and dance. Two of the four finalists, as well as the guest singer, are from Papa Tu's extended family. It is the custom here to take small coins (10 or 20 cents NZ) and throw them in a basin in front of the entertainer. Some people show their pleasure in the music by dancing on their way up to throw a coin. With only a little coaxing from Mama, I danced my way up with a coin.

Tangiia

Today, I learned from Papa Tu the meaning of some names. Our village is Tengatangi after a chief of the old days--Tangiia--who was very popular in the Cook Islands. The village's original name was Taturoa ("standing point that is long"). A village farther toward the coast is Ngatiarua. 

Papa Tu's given name is Teiotu-O-Tangaroa ("The Standing Mirror of Tangaroa). Tangaroa was the god of gods, and the "standing mirror" refers to a clear lake where Tangaroa was said to have looked to see if all the other gods were happy.

Mama and Papa Tu in front area of house

Mama's name, Teu Mere, is her wedding name, not the one she was given as a child. Her older sister was Papa Tu's first wife, who died in her early thirties. Papa Tu considered moving to New Zealand at that time, but the families got together and decided he should marry his wife's younger sister, who was then 18 years old. The name Teu Mere means "something surprising," referring to her sister's sudden death. Their twin sons are named Rouru Ina Ina ("gray hair," after Papa Tu's mother-in-law) and Tangiia (after the famous chief).

This morning, after being notified that our trip to the caves was postponed due to rain, some of us walked to the Atiu Motel. There are three units, with a fourth being built. The owner was away, but we met a couple from Canada staying there who showed us inside their unit. It's an A=frame with indoor plumbing, a double and a single bed, and a loft that could sleep two more people. Food is supplied in the small kitchen area, and guests are charged only for the food or beverages they use. Papa Tu says the motel owner, Roger, met his Atiuan wife in New Zealand and came here "to get away from the rat race." The islanders are not happy with him, some even urging that he be deported. He built a saw mill to produce the lumber for his motel, which is made almost totally from materials found on the island. But he charges dear prices in the mill. Also, while shops in the village are open only in early morning and late afternoon, he keeps his shop open for long hours, and the Atiu tupu believe he is trying to steal their money. Finally, he doesn't impress on guests the ways of the people here. Papa stopped one woman riding by on a motor bike wearing short shorts, telling her angrily to go back to the motel and put on some clothes.

Ready to walk to the dig site

The women and female children in Papa's family never wear pants. I wore Bermuda shorts once, but could see from how he looked away that he was uncomfortable, so I only wear long pants or a skirt at home. The women here sit with their ankles crossed, and rarely cross their legs. Yet I've noticed children bathing together outside next to the house. I asked Papa at what age the boys and girls are separated to bathe, and he would only say, "When they are older."

Papa treats "Mommy," as he calls her, gently, and shares decisions and some tasks with her, though roles are traditionally delineated. She cooks, cleans, washes clothes. As head of the household, he governs through participation much the way he governs as mayor. Mama rarely tells me what to do as he does, but apparently influences his decisions. For example, I had told her I couldn't eat all the food she sent with me for lunch, and when Papa was late for dinner she confided in me that she had told him not to insist on so much food for me. When he is away, she and I laugh as if we were sisters, and even plan jokes to play on him, as we did with my noisy slurping of food. They both laughed heartily with me.

Papa Tu's home office is in the front bedroom across from mine. He says Mama insisted on having a bed where he could sleep when he works late. 

The children seem to live next door in the second house, where Mama's sister also lives, and only come here for devotional services. When they do peek around corners Papa admonishes them to be quiet. He told me they are "too noisy" to live in this house, but I think some of them sleep here when there are no guests.

(Continued in To Cast a Spear)