Some Vocab:
Taro – Plant producing a root used for food
Onosa’i – Patience
Fale - House
Talofa e – (approx.) Woe
Ua sola le fai, ae ua tu’u pea lona foto – The sting ray has left but it has left its stinger
Palagi – Caucasian
Eva Leiloa wiped the sweat from her brow and looked up from her grated coconut, noticing the abrupt orange tint covering the previously pure white meat in her large bowl. Followed immediately by a gust of mildly warm air, this signaled the end of her labor for the day. As she gazed toward the ocean, she smiled at the fiery sky and water. The breeze kicked up its intensity, and great orange waves began forming just outside the lagoon and subsequently breaking in rhythmic regularity on a sandy bar about thirty meters from shore. Several men in a long canoe, getting in some final practice before the following day’s race, took the opportunity to follow the breakers in to shore. The fine sandy beach stretched out as far as she could see to her left and right and terminated at the edge of the Leiloa family’s taro garden. A plot of land as expansive and as optimally situated as that owned by the Leiloa family is hard to come by. Eva’s husband Ray, being of a moderately prestigious family line in the village, had inherited it from his father. It was among several of the few worldly possessions Ray had left to his little family when he disappeared nearly three years ago. Eva looked to the top of a tall coconut tree bordering her garden and the beach. Her small son, Fiso, clung to the top of the columnar tree as a burst of wind coming off the ocean caused the tree to sway gently. Fiso twisted off a ripe brown coconut and hurled it down at the base of the tree.
“Fiso, it’s time to come down! The wind is getting stronger!” she shouted into the wind.
Eva worried often about her children. But each of them retained the strong sense of independence and capability that so characterized her husband. As her eyes followed the coconut to the ground she caught a glimpse of her other son, Tolo, about 20 meters in front of her and a little to her right. Tolo was digging up taro root and cutting the stalks from the roots with a large machete. The stalks could then be replanted and they would regrow roots that could be harvested in the future. Her sons had been enthusiastic helpers since Ray left. There was no way she could have prepared
as much food for tomorrow’s festival by herself, and her sons’ competence in everyday tasks had far surpassed their ten years of age. Though the tasks her sons were engaged in were somewhat dangerous, she trusted both of them, although only for their respective tasks. While Tolo was careful and respected the sharp machete he was using, Fiso might be tempted to play with it. Contrariwise, while Fiso was bold and confident enough to climb a lofty coconut tree, Tolo was
often too timid to fetch more than one or two coconuts at a time withoutgetting scared.
Taro – Plant producing a root used for food
Onosa’i – Patience
Fale - House
Talofa e – (approx.) Woe
Ua sola le fai, ae ua tu’u pea lona foto – The sting ray has left but it has left its stinger
Palagi – Caucasian
Eva Leiloa wiped the sweat from her brow and looked up from her grated coconut, noticing the abrupt orange tint covering the previously pure white meat in her large bowl. Followed immediately by a gust of mildly warm air, this signaled the end of her labor for the day. As she gazed toward the ocean, she smiled at the fiery sky and water. The breeze kicked up its intensity, and great orange waves began forming just outside the lagoon and subsequently breaking in rhythmic regularity on a sandy bar about thirty meters from shore. Several men in a long canoe, getting in some final practice before the following day’s race, took the opportunity to follow the breakers in to shore. The fine sandy beach stretched out as far as she could see to her left and right and terminated at the edge of the Leiloa family’s taro garden. A plot of land as expansive and as optimally situated as that owned by the Leiloa family is hard to come by. Eva’s husband Ray, being of a moderately prestigious family line in the village, had inherited it from his father. It was among several of the few worldly possessions Ray had left to his little family when he disappeared nearly three years ago. Eva looked to the top of a tall coconut tree bordering her garden and the beach. Her small son, Fiso, clung to the top of the columnar tree as a burst of wind coming off the ocean caused the tree to sway gently. Fiso twisted off a ripe brown coconut and hurled it down at the base of the tree.
“Fiso, it’s time to come down! The wind is getting stronger!” she shouted into the wind.
Eva worried often about her children. But each of them retained the strong sense of independence and capability that so characterized her husband. As her eyes followed the coconut to the ground she caught a glimpse of her other son, Tolo, about 20 meters in front of her and a little to her right. Tolo was digging up taro root and cutting the stalks from the roots with a large machete. The stalks could then be replanted and they would regrow roots that could be harvested in the future. Her sons had been enthusiastic helpers since Ray left. There was no way she could have prepared
as much food for tomorrow’s festival by herself, and her sons’ competence in everyday tasks had far surpassed their ten years of age. Though the tasks her sons were engaged in were somewhat dangerous, she trusted both of them, although only for their respective tasks. While Tolo was careful and respected the sharp machete he was using, Fiso might be tempted to play with it. Contrariwise, while Fiso was bold and confident enough to climb a lofty coconut tree, Tolo was
often too timid to fetch more than one or two coconuts at a time withoutgetting scared.
“Tolo, replant those stalks then come inside, honey!” she called out across the garden.
Tolo especially reminded her of Ray. Though he was small, he had the look to take on the same build as her muscular husband. His quiet consideration bespoke of a focused mind ready to bloom into a dignified young man who would represent his family with pride. Fiso on the other hand,
wore poor Eva ragged. His energy was surpassed only by his mouth. When Fiso misbehaved she would tell herself in the old language, “Onosa’i Eva” meaning, “Patience Eva.” She found herself chastising Fiso probably more than he deserved. In quiet moments she regretted her harsh words to Fiso, likewise chastising herself more than she probably deserved.
Eva stood up from her seat, picked up the bowl of grated coconut, and brought it into her small thatched roof home near the beach. Eva looked parallel to the beach where the path from her house disappeared into some heavy brush. An old hunchbacked woman appeared out of the tall grass. She sneered at a knee-high coconut crab that happened to be passing by. The crab quickly scuttled away and the woman continued on toward the house. Though the house had no walls (it was an old Samoan-style fale with only posts to hold up the roof) the old woman stopped at the edge of the house. She bent her head down even further than he bent back naturally held it and asked permission to enter with the words, “Pe maua ea se avoana i totonu le maota?” The old woman had a habit of using the old language even though most people didn’t know much of it.
Eva answered back, “Come in old mother. Come inside. You’re very much welcome here. How are you doing, Tautala?”
“Very fine, thank you,” The old woman muttered as she stepped inside and sat cross-legged on the floor. The sky had grown a little bit redder, and it caused the old woman’s white hair to look nearly as red as a nonu fruit. The woman looked toward the two children finishing their work outside. As Fiso descended from the tree, Tautala remarked, “Two little leaves falling from the tree. Laufiso! What are you doing there?”
“It’s not Laufiso. It’s just Fiso. I was just getting some coconuts. We’re preparing
food for the Nafanua festival tomorrow,” replied Fiso as he and Tolo stepped into the house.
Tautala slowly shook her wrinkled head, “Talofa e. You poor thing. That’s a job for the
man of the house – to prepare the food for the family. I guess it’s true what they say, eh? Ua sola le fai ae tu’u pea lona foto.”
Tolo gave his mother a quizzical look. Eva shook her head, almost imperceptibly.
Fiso replied to the old woman, “Hey lady. I am the man of the house. I’m older than Tolo by five minutes.”
“Fiso, watch your mouth! Have some respect for the old mother!” barked Eva. “Yes,
Tautala I’ve heard that saying more than I care to admit since Ray disappeared.”
“It just breaks my heart to see you out in the taro garden every day, dear. You’re
here living on the cusp of poverty, while that no good husband of yours is off with some other partner he must’ve met while playing that lousy game of his.”
“Hey, you! My dad was the best to ever play the game, lady,” Fiso could not abide
that kind of remark about his father.
Eva shot a look at Fiso and “Fiso, watch that mouth! Though I agree with the
sentiment. Firstly, we three do all right for ourselves here. Secondly, and with all due respect old mother, my dear husband would never cheat on me. Neither would he leave us without good reason. I worry something terrible happened to him. I hope he’s all right wherever he is. But I’m afraid nothing short of bodily harm would have taken him away from us.”
Tautala shook her gray head again and said, “Such hope. You poor thing.”
“Tautala, I apologize for getting worked up. Would you like something to eat or drink? Maybe some hot cocoa?” asked Eva.
Tautala replied, “Thank you for the consideration and the respect, dear, but I should
be getting on. I only came to tell you the big news for tomorrow’s festival. An actual matai is coming to speak tomorrow to our little village of Falesea. Very exciting.”
“An actual chief is coming here? What is he going to speak about?” Eva questioned.
“I haven’t a clue. It could be anything.”
“I suspect he’ll have his full complement of guards with him. We’ll hardly be able
to move in our seats or breathe tomorrow without getting bothered by the guards,” Lamented Eva
“Oh it won’t be as bad as all that, I’m sure,” Tautala replied, “We’re to gather in the village square at 2 o’clock in the afternoon for the speech.”
Eva knowingly glanced at Fiso. Fiso burst out, “That’s when our game is!”
“The boys have a big baseball game tomorrow afternoon.” Eva explained.
Tautala puffed up at this. “Taking after the old man, eh? All of tomorrow afternoon’s
events will be postponed until after the speech. You should watch how these kids spend their time Eva. Baseball is a game from the old regime. Looks kind of suspicious to me. Very shady. Before you know it your boys will be murdering people in their sleep. Like the palagis of the old regime were notorious for. Very bad times. You’ll see. These kids will run off like their old man.”
“Ray didn’t run off, and my boys’ game is harmless enough” Eva had just about given
up with the old woman, and she sounded like it.
“Anyway, it’s getting late and I should be going,” muttered the old woman as she got up
to leave, “Nice speaking with you though.”
“Boys, would you walk the old mother back to her home, please?” Asked Eva.
“Aww, Mom!” groaned Fiso
“Justdo it,” snapped Eva, “It’s gotten dark as we’ve been talking.
Indeed the sun had fully set beneath the watery horizon, and the sky had turned to a
deep purple. Tolo and Fiso escorted the old woman down the path. A coconut crab, possibly the same one from earlier in the evening, seemed to be heading to cross the path in front of them. It must’ve thought better of its course because it turned the other way and disappeared into the brush. The boys took the old woman all the way home and were back within fifteen minutes.
“Mom what are we going to do about our game? This is a really big one. We play
against the top team in the standings, the Falemoa Feral Chickens. We’ve gotta beat them.” Fiso complained.
“I’m sure you’ll play well, boys. You’ll just have to wait a little bit longer to beat that sorry team.” Eva replied.
“What’s so special about a chief coming anyway?” Fiso asked.
Eva explained “A chief, also called a matai, is very powerful, and they command a large group of guards. They govern us as they see fit. Most of them have a dreadful sense of propriety, so please be extra careful tomorrow. I would want this matai making an example out of either of you boys. Promise me you’ll behave?”
“All right, Mother,” said Tolo.
“Okay, okay,” replied Fiso.
“Thank you,” Eva let out a sigh of relief.
“Mother?” ventured Tolo, “What was that old language phrase Tautala said about Dad?”
“She must think she’s very clever. Although that’s all I heard when your father first disappeared. It means, ‘the sting ray has fled but it has left its sting.’ It’s a snarky way of saying that Ray has damaged this family. The old saying was too obvious for people not to use it, considering your father's name, Ray.”
“Dad didn’t leave on purpose, right?” asked Tolo.
“No honey, he loved you both very much. He never would have left you two. I’m sure Ray Leiloa has not fled. Neither has he left his stinger, but he is merely lost. In the old language, that's what Leiloa means. Lost” Eva reassured, “Now let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day. It’s the feast for the war goddess Nafanua, after all.”
The trio pulled out their sleeping mats and each of them lay down pulling a sheet over their bodies and fell asleep without much talk. Thus ended the last mundane day for the Leiloa family.
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