blackrockbulletin: Adventures in Paradise 52

Adventures in Paradise 52

Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with thoughts concerning the passage of time and dreams realized. While it doesn’t seem possible, we note that the fifth of October marks the anniversary of our arrival in paradise. It has been a year of acclimatizing, making new friends, adopting new customs and learning to go with the flow. It has been an unforgettable year and one that will remain in our hearts for the rest of our lives. We are now locals and we are thrilled!

Many of you have heard me say that my dream has always been to live in another culture long enough not to feel like a tourist. For some reason, that dream always seemed to find me somewhere in France, wearing a beret and buying baguettes from the local baker. I would be able to converse with that baker in perfect French and perhaps I would even learn to paint. There would be trips to museums and Versailles. I would stroll down fashionable avenues and enjoy a crepe in a sidewalk café across from Notre Dame Cathedral. I would picnic in the park below the Eifel Tower and take cooking lessons at Le Cordon Bleu. I would become sophisticated and polished, wear designer shoes and be able to tie a scarf a hundred different ways. I might even ride a Vespa, and I would live a lovely peaceful, cultured life in a small cottage surrounded by fields of lavender. There would always be music wafting across the countryside.

In the past year, my dream of not being a tourist in a foreign land has been realized, but in a way that I could never have imagined. Little more than a year ago, I could not have told you a single thing about Rarotonga, past the fact that it was located somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. It was not on my “must visit” list and it certainly was not a place that I wanted to call home. Polynesian culture was of little interest to me and given the choice, I would have picked Paris and it’s attractions over anything having to do with an island any day of the week. But that was then and this is my life now.

In my dreams, I imagined gourmet food served at sidewalk cafes. My dream life now is one where loving hands serve food slow- cooked in an underground oven or umu. Crepes have been replaced by taro and designer china now exists in the form of hand -woven palm platters. A picnic is called a Kai Kai and is often enjoyed with the soothing sounds of the surf in the background. There by the ocean’s edge, we enjoy the traditional fare of pork, chicken, raw fish, curry, neck chops, kumura, mayonnaise salad, fresh papaya and pineapple. Dessert could feature banana poki and possibly coconut cake, but it always includes ice cream. This is my life now.

In my dreams, I would be wearing a beret and buying a baguette. My dream life now finds me slathering on sunscreen and trying to figure out how to keep my homemade rolls fluffy while dealing with sea-level humidity. I am not attending cooking school, rather I am the instructor. My students want to learn how to cook American dishes and I love having a kitchen full of chattering pupils. My wish to be able to speak perfect French has faded as I try to grapple with a language where ever vowel is pronounced, but differently than it is in the American alphabet. A E I O U, has become AH A E OH OOOOO. Kia Orana, which is our hello, actually means, “May you live long”. What a lovely thought that is. Maitaki Maata, is thank you very much, and Ka Kite means see you later, while Ka Kite Apapo tells someone that you will see them tomorrow. This is my life now.

In my dreams, I would be visiting museums and palaces. My dream life now includes mountain treks, rugby matches, snorkeling and visits to the sea wall to watch the triple-seven plane fly in for a landing. I can determine whether a dancer is Tahitian, Samoan, Tongan or Cook Islander. I now know that the Cook Islands produce the best drummers in the South Pacific and my husband can even play a ukulele made from a coconut! I might also add, here that he can husk a coconut as well. The artists I know are creators of beautiful Tivaevaes, and whose works really do hang in museums. They are also fabric painters and weavers. Don’t tell Ward, but I think I have fallen in love with yet another Tivaevae. Shhhh! Let this be our little secret! The palaces of my former dreams now take the form of Maraes where investitures are performed. The Cook Islands are alive with a vibrant culture and this is my life now.

In my dreams, I imagined designer shoes and fabulous ways to tie a scarf. In my new dream life, my feet are always comfortable in flip flops and I have learned to tie a pareau so that I can make a skirt, a bathing suit cover-up or a dress. My designer handbag is made from weaving Pandanas leaves together and I am able to pick a flower for my hair on my way out of the door each morning. My life is not sophisticated. It is simple and it is sweet. It is made sweeter by the loving friends who have taught me so much by my just watching them. They have taught me lessons in faith, friendship, loyalty, creativity, love and dignity. They have taught me the difference between needing and wanting and through them I have learned to see the world in a purer sense. Through them, I have learned to change my priorities. My “Vespa” is a dented white van which I wouldn’t trade for the world because we can transport so many friends in it. It is ugly, noisy and you can hear us coming for a mile. This is my life now.

In my dreams, I lived in a small cottage surrounded by lavender fields. Typical French music would be lilting in the background. In my new dream of a life, I live in a white rock home with over forty palm trees in my backyard. I am lulled to sleep by the sounds of the surf and on many nights, I can also hear the drummers of our village. There are no fancy boulevards for strolling. There only the back roads, where we are constantly dodging scooters and other vehicles. While we are dodging, we are also laughing and waving at those who pass by us. They are our friends and neighbors and people that we have grown to love. This is my life now.

In my dreams, I thought that I would love to live in France. While I know that I will return to France for another visit or two, I also know that I will never live there. This last year has gifted me with a dream of a lifetime. I have a life in which I am no longer a tourist. We have become one with the island culture and even now, as I am writing this, I have to smile, because I just heard another coconut fall from one of the palm trees outside my window and there is a rooster crowing somewhere in the background. I will return to France one day soon, but it will never be my home. I am home now.

So, as usual, we are happy and trying to work hard. It seems as if the clock has sped up for us. It is the oddest of feelings to be so conflicted about the passage of time. On the one hand (no clock pun intended here), we are anxious to see you all again. We miss so much of what is home to us in America. On the other hand, we cannot bear the thought of leaving here. And can you imagine? There is even talk of replacing us! How is that possible? Why can’t we have it both ways? That, I suppose is the problem with fantasy. One must always wake up. But for now, we will see you in our dreams!

Love Ward and Susan Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in the Cooks

Our old van carries precious cargo. In this case, it's the Grant children.

Calaia making herself at home.

The Belliston school of cooking. Lesson for the day: Cinnamon Rolls!

Showing off my latest (and hopefully last) Tivevae. The background is butter-yellow

with white flowers. My visiting friends, MaryBeth and Audrey insisted that I buy it. Well, if not insisted, they at least thought that it was a good idea.