The Native Iowan

Last day in Gizo. Has been grand on all fronts…

One might find a least developed country experience to be confusing at best. While walking down the hill today I was ruminating on the amount of refuse I was walking over and around. It was noticeable. And I was forming a negative opinion.

Then I turned a little corner and heard the voices…

A group of little kids, I mean babies, the oldest 4 or 5 yrs old. I counted 5. An older girl was under the tree a ways away (playing with a cell phone) as the babies sang.

In harmony, they were singing lotu (church) songs. It was gorgeous. Singing for the joy of singing and all equal and all participating. Babies yet without competitive natures or alterior motive. Innocents. Singing as I tramped down the red clay goat track.

I hollered “morne” and they all made noise less beautiful than the lotu tune. We hollered “helloooo”, morninggggggg”, “howwwdie”, and “bye-bye” back and forth. What ever I hollered they chanted back.

But I was moving quickly. Walking, trucking down the red-clay goat track that passes for a road in this LDC.

Radio “hapi lagoon” plays on my tinnie little radio. I’m listening to the noise and the news. Hard to tell the difference between the static, the white noise and the newz.

Mosquitoes are fierce right now. I am assailed on all fronts. They’ll only be here for a bit at dusk and dawn but, golly-gee, they sure are a nuisance.

The frogs are doing their vibratory chorus. A gecko joins in. The eve is quite still. In a noisy way. Has been sweltering all day and we’ve seen two good tropic down pours. And it still humidiates….

The tropics… 3 meters of rain per annum. I used to get ear infections from sweating too much. I have lived with rot of hoof and loin more than not for 30 years. It took me a long time to learn to live here.

And it is a glorious land. Not to be judged harshly.

A glorious land.