Happy Mother's Day

I went to a Mother's Day feast yesterday here on Weno at the family compound of a group of Satowanese who live here on the main island. I was surprised to see the Mayor of Satowan and a colleague teacher in the community house as I walked in, and I shook hands with both saying "Raan allem". The table was bedecked with food - mwelan pula (taro with coconut cream), rice, hotdogs, ohn (turtle), piik (pig - cooked over the fire; I just pulled the meat off the skeleton of the animal), kon (pounded breadfruit), malek (chicken), and punch, cookies, doughnuts, and biscuits. A feast indeed!

After we ate, the program began. As with most family gatherings and events, the traditional Micronesian custom is to have a short (or long) program where traditional and/or family elders speak, give updates, share life lessons, or tell stories. In Chuuk, especially on the outer islands, the traditional leaders (only men) speak: thank the family for coming, thank God for blessing everyone, remind the youth to be respectful and good, & encourage the people to continue working for the community & maintain an air of peace and goodwill. Even though I listen to these speeches and exhortations behind the loud din of a gas generator which is powering the 60W lightbulb and electric fan keeping us comfortable in the equatorial evening heat, there is something else at work here. I can't help but be transported back to a time when the safety and strength of the several islands' communities depended on just these kinds of meetings to bond the people together; it was not really that long ago when life could only be sustained by the very intentional community of the island people. That community was made manifest in a very real way last night.

A few men spoke at the beginning, saying their thanks and praise. Then a few songs, sung by the male youth and also the female youth (youth in Micronesia is between the ages of 14 and 34). But what really struck me happened next. One by one, a male youth would take a flower to his mother, or auntie, or grandmother, or sister, or wife and then stand in front of the assembled community and say why he was thankful for his mother. Three of the youth, the Parks, are brothers, and their mother Asako died back in November, along with their eldest brother. I attended that funeral in November at the very place where we they now stood in celebration of the other Mothers. It was a very emotional moment, seeing them overcome by the memory of their mother, brought again to the fore during this first Mother's Day without her. I shared in their emotion; it was impossible not to.

In a society where family and community are so truly the definition to one's life, celebration & mourning, joy & grief, laughter & crying so often happen together. After they finished, and some mothers spoke to the groups assembled, and I even got to say a quick word (all in Mortlockese!), the youth did imitations of their mothers. And immediately the spirit in the room came back ten-fold; people were rolling with laughter as the boys did their best to make a joke and catch a smile on their mom's faces. Happy Mother's Day!