We walked into the elders’ house. I was sweating. Like everywhere. The men were already gathered around the the tanoa, discussing news from the main island. The bundle of waka roots felt heavy in my hands. I knew it had more to do with its symbolic weight than its actual consistency (after all, it was READ MORE
D’Tui and her village friends wasted no time paddling out in the water on a handmade raft. They giggled and squealed and splashed water on each other. The village goat brayed pleadingly, wanting them to come back and play. He circled the bush he was tied to in frustration.
I am a much better writer than director or editor. But in an effort to become multifaceted, I’m working on adding video content to Nomad Grad. Let’s call this progress. =) I’ve got adventures, spiritual experiences, and a very important visit to the village of the Firewalkers still yet to share with you. But first,
“Oh my God!” My dad was panicked. I gave him a look. “What’s wrong with you?” “I— We— We thought something had happened.” He had his ‘worried Dad’ brow. My mom gave a nervous smile. I bit into my banana, chewing slowly before asking. “Whhhhhyyyy?”
I looked out the kitchen window and washed my plate. The moon was growing full but barely visible behind the clouds. It glowed soft and bright, illuminating the cumulus nimbus like a lamp behind a window curtain. The crickets, frogs, and dogs fought each other for the reigning soundtrack of the night. We’d concluded another
“If you need to get up and pass by the tanoa, you must pass on the left side. Make sure you crawl, kneel, or bow down as you pass the bowl. It’s a sign of respect to the service going on around you. Also, make sure you touch the bowl and say, Tulo, Tulo (pronounced