May 3rd Wednesday 1972
Today we have possibly found ourselves a house. After breakfast we went to see Graciela Huki (who is Melchior’s sister incidentally – I discovered her walking along arm in arm with the boring sociologist lady). She told me about a possible house belonging to her father in law. Today we learnt that it is up on the hill behind the church and had no water – only a rain tank. We were going up to take a look when the waterworks man passed by and offered us a lift. When we explained what we were doing he said he had control of a fiscal (government) house which we could have as long as we looked after it, and he drove us to it. It’s a bit nearer town but still fairly isolated. It has two bedrooms and water and electricity. All we would have to do is remember to switch on the generator if the lights began to flicker. It has the town well and the chlorinating plant in the back garden and a few guava bushes but not much else. No furniture to speak of either – but still a strong possibility.
In the end we decided that taking on responsibility for ensuring the island’s water supply was too scary!
I came home after buying a lot of stuff in the ECA which is now out of flour and down to small tins only of coffee. Carlo was sitting at home looking miserable. He’d cooked some pieces of meat in a dispirited kind of way but said the soup was no good and gave it to the dogs.
Rosa and Luis came by from next door. Luis had his arm in a sling because a finger was badly infected with a fish spine. He was going to have the spine removed tomorrow and was taking antibiotics. The children were sent from their grandmother’s to Rosa’s this morning and now Fifi is here with us. She just asked if she can go back home to her grandmother’s. She wants me to go with her because it’s getting dark.
Fifi’s grandmother, Mama Luisa, took in several of her grandchildren from time to time. One older one, Sicto, lived with her all the time.
This afternoon I called in at the matrona’s. She was doing lots of washing up after a party on Sunday. Tula, Craig and ? went. She likes them a lot and says things are better with her boyfriend now. All the people from the hospital went.
I called at the co-op but nothing there at all. On the way home I met a woman with a three day old baby. She seemed well and had lots of milk, she said. The baby had a nice blue shawl and very red lips.
Last night the dogs barked a lot because a horse got into a cornfield. Tried to buy wine but couldn’t.
A couple of things I remember from conversations. First on Sunday going to Anakena beach the mother of two boys, when asked whether she wanted more, said no – “one could educate two” Today the mother of the three day old baby said she had two boys and a girl and that was enough.
(In the past sixteen to twenty children per family was not unusual)
Seems Soledad is coming back. Arrived with a bundle of stuff and she and Florencia are playing guitars out there. I wish she wasn’t. Everyone gets in such an evil mood when she’s around.
May 4 Thursday 1972
The plane brought in the Conjunto ( Rapanui dance troupe) today. Also a dead boy from the continent. About 16 – died in a car crash.
Tonight one of our dogs got run over. I brought it home and cried in front of two policemen. I think they think I’m mad.
The police presence was nothing to do with the dead dog and the carabinieros just happened to be there for some other matter. Not sure what. Tomorrow has a lot more about the funeral of the boy (and also the burial of the dog).
May 5th
I was a bit drunk last night. I got up early to see the doctor about my cystitis and the assistants insisted on me going first even though there were about four people first including Kiko and his little boy.
Kiko was a very important person in the island community although I remember him having a simple and diffident personality. He had a marvellous voice and was a leader in the church singing as well teaching Rapanui culture - music and dance to the young and being manager of musical groups. He was a good friend to me and I used to cook my bread in his wood fired oven sometimes. He had a penchant for peanut butter from when you could get it at the American PX! When we finally went to Santiago for a bit he asked us to find some and bring it back, which we did.
They took my blood pressure and my temperature before letting me in to see the doctor and I managed to get over “Cystitis”. (Not easy in sign language!) prescribed two sorts of tablets, one of which makes me very drowsy. I came back to the house and drowsed away just about managing to wash the nappies. Carlo was in a better mood joking about “make ai”I have forgotten what that means but it was probably lewd) just like when Georgina was here.
I went down to the plane at about 2.30. There were more people than usual because of the conjunto returning and the dead boy and his mother.
The people meeting the conjunto all had leis and looked very bright. The judge’s secretary is the brother of the boy. The old banana man is his father. He didn’t seem too distressed but kept slipping cigarettes to his friends according to Grant. The funeral was this morning and Grant has gone to it . Late.
Carlos has a small package from Georgina with, fortunately, a package of 100 cigarettes. But he grumbled because he’d been expecting two.
After the plane had gone we walked down (to the post office) to fetch our letters.
This was a weekly ritual. All us hopeful recipients to be of letters would crowd into the little space and the names would randomly be called out one by one. We usually got a lot because the university forwarded everything that came for him including a cookbook series. The books were a bit of a torment as the recipes needed things we couldn’t get but it was nice to look and dream.
It was dark and one of our dogs got run over. I thought it might be OK at first because it could move enough to get to the side of the road. I dreaded it surviving crippled because there aren’t even guns to shoot dogs here. Grant kept being very tough and saying it was life but it seemed terrible to leave the poor creature. Anyway we walked a few yards to Alvarez and then went back to see the dog who had died by that time. It was only a matter of minutes.
We went on to the post office and Mungo had a little parcel and I had a letter and so did Grant. He was angry because I was sad about the dog. I don’t know quite why I was. I never liked it much when it was alive.
We went down to the hotel for a drink because it was Thursday.(plane day) On the way we passed groups of people going to the dead boy’s house.
At the hotel, which is very full this week, we were joined by the LAN man and some Chileans including a reporter who is doing a talk on the island for radio. It (the hotel) struck me again as being a place of gloom. I came home after the first drink by myself which shocked a group of people I stopped and talked to. Then I found the dog. I tried to explain to the two bewildered passing policemen. I cried. They were embarrassed I think. Anyway I got the animal home and put it in the cornfield. This morning, rather to my surprise Carlo wanted to bury it. He was just a little upset. So the kicking of the dogs isn’t simple.
Carlo’s money has come! It came in a big wadge of notes and he’s so pleased. He’s going to Santiago tomorrow unannounced. I hope Georgina isn’t up to no good. He made bread today and it rose higher than ever before. The only fly in the ointment is that Rosa has come to stay. She lurks and cooks and eats tiny little meals and doesn’t drink her drinks and altogether makes me feel voracious and wicked.
We went to the funeral of the boy who was brought back from Santiago yesterday. I didn’t go into the church because of Mungo but stayed by the tree. At about 5pm the cortege came up the street. The coffin was in a lorry with four uniformed sailors beside it. It drove up the main street towards the church very slowly with the family following and saying prayers and carrying flowers – just some branches.
The mother went into the church first and the others followed. Lots came late. The wall to the left of the door had a row of teenage boys sitting on it. Near the tree with me was a little half Chilean half Pascuence family who didn’t want to go in because “it was hot in there for the baby” The man was related to the family. There were two other children of about one outside with their mothers chatting away. Two policemen had come too and hung about outside the church. The doctor arrived late and went in. Lots of uniforms everywhere because of the father’s military connections.
There was some singing in the church. The mother came out first being virtually carried by two uniformed military types. She was all in black but very few others were. The row of girls near me giggled – I think at the sight of the mother.
After she had left, the cross was carried out and the coffin behind it and all the rest of the congregation behind that. We all walked down to the cemetery. There was singing and a bit of chatting at the back. Throughout, the number of children struck me as high. There seems to be no attempt to disguise death from children. (Indeed Carlo buried the dog this morning with them looking on).
I kept in the background at the cemetery until Nora arrived. She said she wanted to go and talk to a woman whose husband had died two months ago and so we did. She was standing in front of her husband’s grave and crying a little. We both put our arms around her and tried to comfort her. When Mungo came she played with him. It was getting very cold and dark and the crowd was silhouetted against the sky. I liked the woman very much and I hope we see her more.
I felt it was a fine way to be buried – even with all the pettiness and chatter. The community was pulled to the church despite themselves. If anything could send a soul on its way, a ceremony like that should.
Mmm. Now I’m a bit closer to the end myself, I can’t think of anything worse than all that shenanigans. A nice no flowers no fuss cremation will do me.
I’m not sure how much support individual mourners had. We met Raul on his way home alone. At the exit to the graveyard the mother (I think) was saying goodbye to all the mourners like a mother at a wedding.
We were given a lift home by Nora and the boys in a jeep. They came our way specially.
I do feel a great sense of belonging here, though, lord knows, we certainly don’t. I like the mad old lady who gives Mungo apples and me kisses. I enjoy being spoken to by everyone even though I have so little to say. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to move into a Pascuence family. I had lots of little encounters with people this morning about the lack of butter and everything else this week.