Last Erromango
Beez Neez now Chy Whella
Big Bear and Pepe Millard
Fri 6 Nov 2015 23:57
Our Last Day on Erromango
We have soon fallen into the rhythm of the village, the quiet tranquillity amongst welcoming
friends.
This morning we were awoken by the
humming, thrub, thrub of a helicopter, alarmed it may
be someone sick, we later found out it was the Digicel people carrying timber up
to the top of the hill to rebuild the telephone masts.
We have loved it here at Dillon’s Bay.
Not sure about giving up Baby
Beez for a local canoe...........
Always welcome
committees.
Donald’s landing
place. Pepe’s landing place. Donald did have to admit mine was much
easier.
The easy lunchtime
feel.
Ashore we saw a log, at the other end of the string – a goat.
We wondered what would
happen if the log rolled into the river.............but for now all is well.
Mrs
Goat not too far away.
The
Co-op.
We loved reading the
notices on the wall. We find that if we read
just what it says out loud, it makes perfect sense.
Flowers give the village flashes of
colour.
A peaceful
village.
Our
first gift from Lota was simply a shock, these people have had no decent
root crop since Cyclone Pam and are only just seeing the ‘quicker yielders’
bring colour and substance to the table. I took the sweet potato but asked that
the rest be put to use in the larder. We explained that everything fresh would
be thrown away by the authorities in New Caledonia and we had enough stock on
board to get us there. It would be a sin for us to waste it. Fully
understanding, the next days table was decorated beautifully with flowers and a pretty cloth.
I had five packs of frozen mince
bought in Fiji that I knew Quarantine in New Caledonia would take away from us.
I offered to cook our final supper for all of us. After this mornings bimbles we
went home and I made a huge stew with boiled
potatoes, peas and baby sweetcorns. Donald was first to settle and yomped
through two portions. He left the baby corn spears to one side and looked
sheepish when asked. “I have never seen these before mum, I don’t know how to
eat them.” You know your big corns. “Yes” well these are just picked tiny, pick
it up in your fingers and try. “Oh, it tastes just the same”.
Wonderment......... I had asked that Lota be given the day off from cooking but
islanders being islanders she made everything to the right of the table. Not
touched, so at least she will get the afternoon off tomorrow. Slowly, the
children, nieces and nephews appeared. One by one they lined up for a plate of
food. There was a little left, all finished off during the evening as we were to
find out – we popped ashore just to say farewell the morning we
left.
Donald, Lota and a few
children.
Donald and
Lota.
Lota, quiet, stoical, mother of six,
aunt to masses was going to be the hardest to say farewell to. Her face usually
devoid of emotion, other than her toothless grin, cracked and tears flowed I
almost choked on the lump in my throat and made a run for it.
A final wave from
Donald and one of his sisters.
Back to the
patient Beez and off on the morrow. Arrrrr.
ALL IN ALL SO SAD TO
LEAVE
TOUGH TO SAY
‘GUDBYE’ |