"DANCES WITH FIRE"

Hassie Gaugau

Chapter 3

 "You remember my son Tavita?  He's home from America."

Vaoifi walked in front on their way to the market.  His goal seemed to be that everyone in Samoa knew of his happiness.

Tavita accepted the notoriety with trepidation.  He didn't know, for sure, that the federal agent might not be somewhere close.  Or maybe they had changed men?  Maybe there was someone right here watching him, someone that he didn't recognize.

"Dad," he caught up with Vaoifi.  "That's enough,  people will learn that I've arrived all too soon as it is.  Which bus do we take to Luatuanu'u?"

The Samoan language had come back to him quickly, as if he'd never spoken anything else, but it did curl around his tongue with a different twist.

"What's the matter son?"  Vaoifi looked hurt.  "I just want everyone to know that you're back."

"It's okay dad," he turned to see all the brightly colored busses that pulled into the parking area of the market.  "I'll tell you everything when we get home.  Now, which one of these do we take?"

 The Luatuanu'u bus was bright blues and yellows.  Wooden seats, bolted to a wooden floor surrounded by a wooden frame and a body made of wooden sheeting created a very unusual and creative mode of transportation.

They climbed aboard and Vaoifi began again to proclaim the return of his long lost son.  This time Tavita just smiled and accepted the warm wishes and welcomes.  After all, unless the federals had recruited a Samoan, there was no other nationality on the bus and no cause for concern.

As he fielded question after question from Vaoifi and the others, they passed through familiar villages.  Each curve brought a remembered sight.  The coconut plantations covered the hillsides and spilled right down onto the coral covered beaches.  The iridescent blue of the lagoon sparkled like jewels between the groves.  Waves lapped lazily up onto the shore.

"It's great to be home." Tavita lapsed into English.

"What?" Vaoifi questioned him with a surprised look, on his face.

"I was just thinking." he returned to Samoan.  "That for anyone who has never been away from this tiny world, they can't realize what a true paradise it really is."

"Uh huh." Vaoifi gave that questioning look again, wondering what his son was mumbling about.

At last they entered Luatuanu'u.  It seemed more changed than all the rest.  There were so many people now.  Fales and bush stores had popped up everywhere.  Areas that had been plantations and even mangrove swamps, now had houses and yards.

Finally they crossed an alia (a small stream) and almost before the bus could stop, Tavita jumped from the door and began to run.  His lungs were about to burst as he raced toward the fale that had once been his home.

No matter his speed, it wasn't fast enough to reach the fale before his mother Mele, saw him.  They met, tears streamed down both their faces as they embraced.  Wails of grief and joy tore through the air as she remembered her little Tavita, naked and skinny but  she now saw a big strong man who no longer needed her.

"Our son is home." Vaoifi walked slowly up beside them, "Wife, your prayers have been answered."

Mele and Tavita stood apart now, as neighbors from every part of the village gathered.

Without any spoken orders, Mele and Vaoifi's house became a flurry of activity.  Young girls cleared the house and spread fine mats to cover the entire coral floor.  Young men and boys climbed breadfruit trees, dropping the green orbs into palm leaf baskets.  Others gathered firewood and started umus (outdoor ground ovens.)  Chickens squawked and pigs squealed as they were chased, stoned, and cleaned to be  put into the umus.  Chiefs from every  part of the village began to enter the house and take up their traditional positions at the different posts of the fale.

After the feast and the welcome home ceremonies, ukuleles and guitars were brought out.  Songs and dances were performed into the night.

Tavita listened and participated in the festivities, but much of the time his mind strayed.  He remembered when he had left this beautiful land.

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 "Hey kid," Hank called.  "You want to go to the US with me?"

The hand motions and what little English Tavita had learned from the marines enabled him to understand. "Ioe (yes!)" he ran and jumped on "Haank."  "When we go?"

"Wait!  Wait kid!  I'm just askin'."  Hank straightened them both.  I'm tryin' to figer' a way to sneak you on the ship, when we leave."

Tavita didn't understand everything, but his "best friend" Hank was going to take him to America, he understood that much.

"I'll come up with a plan," Hank tried to calm the exuberant kid, "when I do you'll be the first to know."

Tavita was disappointed, but felt sure that they would go soon.  Until then, he was content with Hank's daily lessons on "how to drive a jeep."

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A shake of his arm brought him back to the festivities.  It was Mele.

"Son, you dance now."

He rose and danced a brief warriors dance.  Not wanting to "show off" with any of the dances he was now famous for, in the states, he did the ones that everyone knew.  But he couldn't hide the grace and professionalism that came to him naturally.  A hush fell over the gathering, then a mummer of excitement and awe that swelled as they watched the movements that they all knew, done in a way that they could never have imagined.

Some people began to come forward to drop money at his feet, coins, bills of every domination.

"What's this?" he was astounded.  Then he remembered.  they were showing their respect.  This was tradition.  It all came back to him.  The dances held to raise money for new school buildings, new churches, or funding for any occasion.  People showed their support by giving money to the dancer that they liked best.

He was embarassed, but knew that he couldn't return the money without offending the giver, so he smiled and continued for a short time.  Then he bowed and accepted the money with his show of respect.  He gathered and placed it atop his head.  Applause and laughter rippled across the crowd as he worked his way toward his mother.  "Here Mele, this is for you."

The applause and laughter increased to a roar as she accepted and placed it atop her head, smiling up at Tavita.

At last the villagers began to return to their own homes and soon Tavita was left with his own family.  Older sister Toese, had heard of his return and hurried over from her own house.  Brother Villiamu had received the news, on the far end of the islands eastern shore, from riders of the bus.  He had come as fast as he could.  Samita, the youngest brother had been there for every exciting moment.  The only member, of the family, not present, was Tennie, who was away at school.

"Son, you must be so tired," Mele brushed his bearded face, "you will sleep now.  Toese have you  prepared his bed?"

"Yes," Toese hovered nearby, only too happy to serve her long lost younger brother.

"Hey sis, thank you." a big hug startled and surprised Toese, "I've missed you."

Toese stepped back from the show of affection, not used to such things.  "I've missed you too."  She decided that it was good after all and returned the hug.  "Come, I'll show you where to sleep."

"Manuia le po," (good night) my family, I am happy to be home."

At last he was alone.  Tired didn't begin to describe how exhausted he was, but sleep did not come.  He lay on the mat spread over the coral floor and shifted, rolled, and tossed.  "How the hell are you supposed to sleep like this?" he mumbled.  "I'd forgotten about not having a real bed.  My legs are already permanently bent from sitting most of the night, on the floor.  Can I do this?  Can I get back into this way of life again?

But before long, he began to drift.  Between tosses his mind returned to Hank and the plan he had devised

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"Hey kid," he placed a big duffel bag on the ground in front of them.  "Crawl in here," he motioned.

Tavita didn't know why, but his friend Hank has asked him to do it so it must be right.

Once inside, he curled into a ball and felt the cords being pulled taut as the bag closed over him.  Next he felt himself being lifted and swung over Hank's shoulder.

"YEOW!"

"Hush kid, we've gotta' see if this is gonna' work."

Tavita bounced along on Hank's shoulder and tried to be quiet.  But how could he tell Hank that he was upside down?  Now he was dizzy and thought that he might be sick if Hank didn't put him down soon.  I don't want to go to America if I have to go this way!

At last Hank put the duffel down and jerked the cords to open the bag.  Tavita crawled out, staggered, and fell.

"What's the matter kid?" Hank picked him up.

The world spun around as he tried to lock his eyes onto Hank.  But nothing would be still.  When he reached to touch Hank there was no one there.  His feet moved on their own trying to steady themselves.

"Kid, you all right?"

"Leai, no like go Amerika.  Faafetai Hank, but no go Amerika.

"Hey kid, we'll find another way."  Hank held him firmly as he tried to help.

"Leai, I go home now."

I wonder where he went. Tavita relived the moment.  The troop had shipped out soon after their big experiment and he'd never seen Hank again.

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Not realizing that he had gone to sleep he was startled when Toese shook him.

"Tavita.  Tavita, your breakfast."  She placed sliced papaya and limes before him along with a teapot filled with steaming cocoa samoa.  "We'll have taro soon."

"Don't you have any coffee?" his voice rasped from all the cigarettes he had smoked the night before.  "I really need some coffee."

"No." Toese hung her head, ashamed that she hadn't pleased her brother.

"That's okay," he realized that he'd been too harsh and tried to make amends.  "I'm just used to it in America.  I'll get by," he lit a cigarette.  "This looks good."

"Mele says you will go back to Apia today, to her village.  Toese rolled the mats and placed them on the rafters.

"Shit!" Tavita lapsed back into English.  "I'd forgotten about all the fa'alavelave (an event) crap.  We'll have to go through the traditions with all the families."

"What?"  Toese couldn't understand what had  upset him and why he spoke foreign words.

"I'm sorry," he changed back to Samoan.  "I'll be ready in a little while.  Thank you sis."

After breakfast, they did go into town.  This time it was Mele who announced to everyone that her son was home from America.  Her family had already gathered at her brother's house.  After all, there was no question but that Tavita would come that day to show his respects.  Chiefs here had also assumed their positions.  Villagers ringed around the outside and young men were busy with the umu's cooking fires.

One chief after another gave speeches of welcome.  Tavita sat with his legs crossed under him and felt that he would never be able to stand again as hour after hour droned on.

Most of the orations were given in Chief's Language, which was almost as foreign, to him, as Greek.  To keep from yawning and embarrassing himself and Mele he thought about the last time he had been in this village.

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After telling Hank that he didn't want to go to Amerika, he had gone to the church school that his parents had wanted him to attend for a long time.  Several false starts and a few runaways later he had settled in to become one of their best students.  In his third year, a contest was held for all young people who attended any church school, in all of Samoa and American Samoa.  The winner would receive a scholarship to attend school in Salt Lake City, through their Senior year.  Tavita won.

He and Toese had come into town, to their mother's village, for his farewell party, the night before his scheduled departure for Pago  Pago, where he would stay until a boat would take him to Amerika.

"Toese, just one more movie before I go, okay?"  After his first movie he was addicted.  "Let me borrow your clean lavalava for the movie, while mine dries.  Then when we come from the party, I'll pack my things."

After the show, the boat from American Samoa was preparing to sail.  He ran over to watch.

Names were read for those who had visas and tickets to board. 

"Tavita Vaoifi.  Tavita Vaoifi, will board now."

"Hey, that's me!"

"But you can't go!" Toese looked around frantically.  "You don't have any clothes, just my lavalava, no shirt, no shoes, and you don't have any money!"

"I still have this pound note," he reached into the small pouch that was tied around his neck. "And my visa and tickets.  Mele told me to keep them with me all the time.  I gotta' go!"

"But Tavita," Toese objected, "what about the party?  What about Mele and Vaoifi, they were going to be here tomorrow to see you off?"

"They called my name!" he started to run.  "They called my name, I have to go now!  Bye Toese, I gotta' go, bye!"

Tavita waved at Toese until he could no longer see her.  He waved as the boat sailed past Luatuanu'u.  He waved as Western Samoa slowly faded away.