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Published: January 16th 2007
Today, Gene and I rented two bicycles and took a tour of the island. Hopping onto my beach cruiser, my leg muscles quickly reminded me just how many years it has been since I last rode a bike. The scenery was absolutely beautiful and the Tahitians overly friendly. I felt as though I was in a Disney movie as I journeyed down the main road and was greeted, “bon jour” with a nod and wave by the locals. We have quickly learned how friendly the Tahitians are. Gene, being the gentleman that he is, volunteered to ride the defective bike - its handle bars were loose and the chain consistently fell off. On one occasion, a local Tahitian crossed the road to assist Gene with his bike chain. Even the little children smiled and greeted us as we drove past their front yards.
Before long, we came upon an old beaten down church where we could hear the congregation belting out songs from down the road. We stopped to take some pictures and I watched as a little girl exited the front of the church in her bare feet. Another woman dragged an old plastic chair just outside the door
of the church where she fanned herself down. The congregation was small, yet vivacious. I could sense a genuine happiness, belonging and pride as I stood in the doorway of the church. The building was old, simple and soiled, but that did not seem to faze its fellow parishioners.
The St. Mary Star of the Sea parish where I grew up was comprised generally of middle-class parishioners. The church itself was always immaculately clean and the offering baskets always full. However, while St. Mary’s parish may have been large and the pews packed, its participation in the singing of hymns could by no means compare to the voices I heard from that small Tahitian congregation today.
As we continued on our journey, we realized how quickly we would drain the one bottle of water that we brought with us. However, it was Sunday and everything, including the gas stations, were closed. We decided that we would ride to the Sofitel hotel (approximately 5 miles from our hotel) with the hope of cooling down and purchasing another bottle of water. Well, by the time we got there, our clothes were speckled with muddy water from top to bottom and
we were drenched in sweat. I’m convinced we blended right in. Gene tried to nonchalantly pass security at the hotel on his bike as though we were hotel guests, but we were quickly stopped. We had to make reservations for lunch for two just to gain entry to the hotel. We then chained our bikes, ditched our lunch reservations and found a seat up at the bar where we re-hydrated before catching a glimpse of an octopus off the dock and washing ourselves off in the Sofitel pool. We must have looked like two vagabonds but made ourselves right at home.
A few hours later, I had the most Polish sunburn known to man. Aside from that grand attraction, I have mosquito bites which have swelled up all over my feet and legs, have itched me into a frenzy, and have left me looking like a leper. I swear I could never swing it as a Tahitian.
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Mom
non-member comment
Inconspicuous...Gina? Never.