Father's day - part two

After church we went back to Muti-muti’s house, a series of fales on a little peninsula. Despite the most amazing outlook I have ever seen in a residential house, the buildings all faced to the road, with only the most utilitarian buildings at the back near the ocean.

Muti-Muti’s English is about as good as our Samona, so we sat and watched while an intriguing but mostly baffling scenerio played out soon after our arrival Three men arrived at the fale, all of whom we had noted earlier at church (Two wore moustaches and we marvelled later at how much they both looked like Tom Selleck!) . They sat and after pleasantries, one commenced a monologue which went for several minutes, the other gentlemen offering words of what sounded like approval at points. He then rose, and gave Muti-muti a fifty dollar note. Muti-muti then formally responded in another monologue that went on for several minutes. We caught the word Fomai’i (doctor) which seemed to indicate he was referring to Paul. Another man who may have been Muti-Muti’s son or son-inlaw then spoke after seating himself on the floor and laid out plates of food which were subsequently taken away by the men. After this exchange was completed, the men rose to leave telling us that Muti-muti had told them of the relationship he established with Paul while in the hospital and that they wished us well. In a fairly off hand manner, Muti-muti mentioned that they were visiting as he is the high chief of the village, and the men, other Samatau matais (or chiefs) had come to visit to pay respect due to his recent illness.

The cultural exposure did not end there. With Muti-muti and another gentleman sitting at large chairs on the perimeter of the fale, a table was moved into the centre of the room and four chairs placed at it. As guests we were invited to sit and eat, while Muti-muti’s daughters and wife served us, including standing at the table fanning us and the food. Plates of cold meats, pulasami (coconut cream baked in banana leaves), fish, taro and more were placed out for us. In the mean Muti-muti an his other guest were also served with their own individual tables of food. Many apologies were offered for the limited spread, of which we only managed to eat perhaps one tenth. This was meant to be breakfast, with the main meal to be had later in the day. When we had eaten what little we could, we were offered lime ice cream for afters, and received an invite back before we leave in December. There seemed to be a joke in there somewhere about how well we could dance, with Muti-muti's daughter rolling her eyes and saying something about a farewell ceremony. Can't wait!

It was the most interesting experience I have had so far, with being honoured as a guest in such a way both flattering and uncomfortable, and much of it spent with us looking for cues about how to behave and what to do next. I hope we get more experiences like this in the next four months.