“Toilet paper is really uncomfortable.”
“Aue! Is that all you can think about? Your Kotex? I use toilet paper and it’s not uncomfortable for me. Let me think a little . . .”
There’s a silence until finally Materena is ready.
“I admire you.” There, Materena spoke.
“Merci, Mamie! I admire you too.”
“Ah oui?” Materena feels honored. “And why do you admire me?”
“I admire you for lots of reasons . . . but shouldn’t you be the one telling me why you admire me?”
“Oui, of course . . . sorry, this is your day . . . Well, I admire you because . . .” And Materena lists the reasons.
She admires her daughter because she can point north just like that, name all the countries in the atlas, she can write pages and pages without checking the spelling in the dictionary, she knows if we lose pints of blood we’re dead, she can . . .
Give the medical word for every part of the body. Read books thicker than the Bible. Not eat for two days to raise money for the starving children of Africa. Materena admires how her daughter is courageous enough to tell anyone jumping in front of her at the Chinese store, “Excuse me, but I think I was before you.” Or yell at people for throwing rubbish out of their car window. She can speak four languages (French, English, Spanish, and a bit of Tahitian). Ask strangers questions.
Materena has never ever been called the Walking Encyclo-pedia by the relatives. Leilani has.
Materena finally finishes. That’s enough compliments for today.
“Now,” she continues, “I’m not going to tell you not to wash your hair during your period, otherwise the blood is going to turn into ice, because . . . eh well, I was right, you’re laughing . . . I knew you were going to laugh . . . eh oh, let’s calm ourselves, okay? I didn’t invent this talk. See what happens when you read too many books? When you’ve got encyclopedias? You don’t believe in Tahitian ways anymore! Stop, you’re making me laugh! I know it sounds stupid . . . Blood turning into ice, can you imagine? Aue! If your grandmother Mamie Loana heard us laugh . . . Okay that’s enough, let me continue . . .” Materena takes a deep breath. You’re not supposed to be laughing during the Welcome into Womanhood talk. You’re supposed to be very serious because it’s serious, all of this! Materena adopts a serious face.
“Be proud to have been born a woman,” Materena says.
“Oui,” Leilani sighs.
“Don’t you sigh on me!” Materena talks about how it’s important for mothers to tell their daughters to be proud to have been born a woman. Being born a woman doesn’t mean you have to be the one stuck with the cooking and the cleaning and looking after the children for the rest of your life. Women can do anything. Being a woman also means you add something magical and special to this world. “You know that book you were reading last week,” Materena says, “about that Chinese woman who prayed to her God not to make her come back as a woman?”
“Oui. She preferred to be reincarnated as a dog than as a woman.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s awful to be a woman anymore.”
“Oh”—Leilani shakes her head—“women do have a harder life. You can’t deny that.”
“I don’t deny it,” Materena says. “But why do you think God gave us all these hardships, eh? It’s not because he knows we’re capable? We’re strong? We’re tough?”
“Mamie, I don’t want to talk about God today, please.”
“All right . . . no God today . . .” Materena knows that Leilani is a bit cranky with God at the moment because He’s allowing children in Africa to starve, He’s making people die young, He’s doing many things Leilani doesn’t approve of. And plus, God doesn’t make any sense to Leilani. She finds it easier to believe in the existence of aliens. Materena has tried to defend God and His existence several times, but each time Leilani has said, “Don’t talk to me about God.”
Today Materena won’t say anything about God, but she does say that she feels very lucky that it was she whom God chose to carry and raise Leilani, and Leilani smiles.
“Now,” Materena says, also smiling at her daughter, “always believe in yourself, okay?”
“I will.”
“It is very important to believe in yourself,” Materena continues. “You can have thousands of people believing in you, but if you”—Materena points a finger to her daughter—“if you don’t believe in yourself, you’re not going to be able to take that step forward you need to take to be a truly happy person. It’s all in here.” Materena places a hand on her heart. “And in here.” The hand goes to the head. “Remember, only you can make it happen. You follow me?”
“I follow you, Mamie.”
“Know what you want and make it happen.”
“Oui.”
“Mamie is always going to be here for you, remember that.”
“I’ll remember.”
“Keep on working hard at school, don’t get distracted. Get your papers—degrees—and then get a good job. When a woman has a good job, she doesn’t have to rely on anyone, you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Don’t be a nobody like me.”
“I don’t think you’re a nobody, Mamie.”
Materena smiles and pats her daughter’s hand. “You’re so intelligent, girl.”
“You’re intelligent.”
“I’m intelligent?”
“You are very intelligent.”
“Merci, girl.” Materena cackles. “I can always count on you to give me compliments.”
“It’s not a compliment, it’s a fact.” Leilani takes her mother’s hand in hers. “You also can have a new, exciting future ahead of you. All you need is to know what you want.”
“I know what I want!”
“And what do you want?” asks Leilani, interested.
“I want . . .” Materena stops talking to look at her daughter closely. “Why am I talking about myself?” She chuckles. “Today is not my day, today is your day, I’m not the daughter bleeding for the first time in my life, I’m the mother with years of experience . . . Last thing, don’t you dare make me a grandmother before I’m forty,” Materena says, trying to lighten up the conversation.
“I’m not interested in boys.”
“We all say that, but when the hormones —”
“Mamie, I’ll tell you, don’t worry.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“You tell me and I’ll get you the contraceptive pill illico presto, okay?”
“The pill? My boyfriend will be wearing a condom.”
“Oh, I don’t know any Tahitian man who wears a condom.”
“Well, my boyfriend will. No condom—no sexy loving.”
Materena widens her eyes. She can’t believe the conversation she’s having with her daughter today! Well, this is what happens when you don’t follow the tradition, you pay the price.
Okay, it’s time to move away from the subject of boys and condoms. “I really believe you’re capable of doing whatever you want with your life,” Materena says.
There’s no response from Leilani.
“Leilani? Did you hear what I’ve just told you?”
Leilani seems lost in a private reverie. Her eyes are staring straight ahead . . . at Materena’s chest.
“Leilani!” Materena exclaims, waving her hands in front of Leilani’s face. “Ouh ouh! Come back to Earth!”
Leilani comes out of her reverie to reveal that she’s never noticed her mother’s breasts were so small.
“Eh? Why are you talking about my breasts?”
“Did you always have small breasts, Mamie?”
“Well oui! Mamie Loana has small breasts, I’ve got the size of my breasts from her.”
“Am I going to have small breasts too?” Leilani asks, clearly worried.
Materena glances at her daughter’s chest. At fourteen years old, Leilani still doesn’t need to wear a bra, but she wears one anyway. She’s been we
aring a bra for the past two years. Yes, Materena thinks, it is very likely that Leilani is going to have small breasts, like her mother and her grandmother. And so what? Small breasts are convenient. They don’t get in the way. It doesn’t hurt when you run.
“Mamie?” Leilani wants an answer about her breasts. “My breasts? Are they going to stay small?
“Maybe,” Materena replies, “but I can’t say . . . I know women who have big breasts whose mothers have small breasts, and the other way around too. Anyway, you’re clever, you have long legs, beautiful eyes, and beautiful teeth, you can’t have everything . . . Now, let’s go back to the Welcome into Womanhood talk . . . Why are you sighing? You want your Kotex? Aue! Are you obsessed or something? All right, then, but when I come back from the Chinese store you’re listening to me for two hours, okay?”
“Sure.”
“You’re only saying that because you want me to go to the Chinese store now, it’s not true?”
“Oui, it is true.”
“You’re unbelievable, you.” Cackling, Materena gets up and grabs her purse. She understands that young girls are too embarrassed to buy pads at the Chinese store. Materena even knows grown women who are too embarrassed to buy pads. There are always a lot of relatives at the Chinese store and when they see the pads wrapped in newspaper for privacy, the whole population knows you’ve got your period, the whole population can say, “Here’s one who’s not going to wash her hair for the next four days.”
Sitting at the kitchen table with the transistor in front of her hours later, Materena is ready to record the Welcome into Womanhood talk. This is the talk her mother gave her twenty-four years ago, the talk Materena now feels she should have given her daughter, if only to follow the tradition that certain things should be passed from mother to daughter and on and on. Certain things such as good habits, family stories, the everyday life. Well, Materena is just about to do this—on a tape, so that Leilani can listen to it over and over again, and she can even write the precious information in her notebook. If she hasn’t already done so, after years of watching her mother do things the way she does, and hearing her say the things she says.
It’s quarter past eleven and everyone is asleep, the perfect time for a recording session.
Materena presses the record button.
Curtains don’t just stop the rays of sunshine and the eyes of the curious coming into the house. They uplift the soul of a woman too, but to do that they’ve got to be colorful and pretty. Never cut costs with your curtains, Leilani.
Breadfruit fills the stomach, is nice to eat, and can be cooked in many different ways: barbecued, baked, in the stew. Plant a breadfruit tree if you don’t have one growing where you live. You won’t regret it.
Clothes are hung first thing in the morning and taken off at least half an hour before it gets dark, otherwise they will be dampened. Clothes are folded as soon as they are taken off the line, otherwise they will be creased. Babies’ clothes are never washed with adults’ clothes. Shirts are hung upside down but pants are hung right-side up. Sheets need four pegs. Bras and underpants are hung in the house, not on the clothesline for the whole population to admire.
Lemon squeezed on the dishes gets rid of odors like fish, garlic, and onions. Dirty dishes left by the sink overnight attract cockroaches.
Only buy two-sided tablecloths, that way you’ll have two tablecloths for the price of one. Only buy dresses that can be taken down.
Tidy your house before going to bed because when the first thing you see in the morning is bordel, you get cranky.
Always put the soap back in the soap holder. When it’s on the ground somebody might step on it one day and crack his head open.
When you visit somebody, stop five yards away from the house and call out. Don’t walk into the house in case somebody is doing something you don’t want to see or something you don’t need to see. Call but don’t call like somebody died, call with a normal voice. If nobody answers your call after the third call it means nobody’s home or maybe the relative you want to see doesn’t want to see you.
To get rid of unwanted guests without hurting their feelings, broom around their feet.
Don’t eat in front of people if you can’t share.
When someone tells you a secret for the grave, it means you have to take that secret with you to the grave. Reveal a secret for the grave and bad luck is sure to strike you minutes later. Your tongue will swell and suffocate you.
Don’t visit people at eating times unless you’ve been invited.
Show respect to old people.
Never say anything to a bad mouth because everything you say is going to be used against you later on.
Don’t get married before you have at least one child with your man. Children are the hardest part in a couple’s life. When there are no children, everything is easy, everybody wants to get married. Once there are children, everything changes.
Check the woman who raised the man you want as your husband. Men like to say to their sons, “How’s the mama? A big pork chop? That’s your girlfriend in twenty years.” Well, girl, check your boyfriend’s mama, see how she raised her son. Was she still changing her son’s bedsheets after he turned fourteen years old, when boys start to do things in their bed their mama doesn’t need to know about?
It is taboo, forbidden, to fall in love with a cousin, remember that. Your family is not going to speak to you, attend your children’s baptism, communion, confirmation, etc. Your name will no longer mean anything, and your children will be born deformed.
Don’t fall in love with a man from an enemy family either. You’ll be caught between your family and his family, torn this way, torn that way. Your life will be nothing but misery.
Forget about falling in love with a man from another religion. There’s always going to be an argument about this and that, God, the Virgin Mary, where the children are going to be baptized.
Avoid foreigners at all costs. Foreigners always go back to their country and they don’t always ask the woman to follow. If your foreigner by some miracle asks you to follow him back to his country, you better make sure your passport is always valid so that you can come home to your mother’s funeral.
Foreigners eat raw fish with salad dressing.
Stay away from typical Tahitian men. A typical Tahitian man will make you earn your wedding ring. Expect to wait years for a typical Tahitian man to commit. One day he’ll tell you, “Oui, I’m ready to marry you.” The next day his song will be different, “Non, I can’t marry you yet, maybe next year.”
A typical Tahitian man must have three nocturnal meetings a week, at least, with his mates. They drink, listen to music, smoke, and sometimes they talk. More often, though, they just look into each other’s eyes and laugh. Or they tell jokes.
If you’re depressed, lost, crying, your typical Tahitian man pretends he can’t see your suffering. He walks straight past you as you stand in the room with tears streaming down your face.
A typical Tahitian man holds his baby as if it were a pack of taro. He’s very proud to show off his baby to his mates, he’s grinning as if he’s pushed that baby out into the world. When the baby becomes a child and starts asking questions, your typical Tahitian man says, “You can’t see I’m busy, eh? Go see your mama.”
A typical Tahitian man believes that it is beneath his dignity to show his woman affection. You ask a typical Tahitian man, “Am I beautiful, chéri?” he answers, “You’re not ugly.”
Enough about men. Now, to make a fruit tree produce you bash it around with a stick and say, “You’re going to give me a fruit or what? Eh? You ungrateful tree! I water you, I give you fertilizer, and all you give me is a great big zero!”
When somebody gives you something in a bowl, give the bowl back as soon as possible, and give it back with something in it. It doesn’t matter whether or not you ate whatever was in the bowl in the first place. Let’s say it was ripe lemons and let’s say you didn’t get the chance to use these lem
ons and they rotted on you, well, you still can’t give the bowl back empty. It’s not the relative’s fault you didn’t use her lemons.
Never visit a woman who’s just given birth looking your best.
You can put up a six-foot-high fence around your house if you want to. It’s not against the law to put up a six-foot-high fence. But a six-foot-high fence is like saying to the relatives, “I don’t want anything to do with you lot.” So, next time you’re going to be in the shit up to here, you can cry until midnight for the relatives to come and save you. It’s fair. It’s the Tahitian way. You’re in or you’re out, you can’t just accept what suits you.
Soups are always better the next day. So are stews.
A man with missing teeth means he’s been in a fight. A woman with missing teeth means her man beat her. If a man ever knocks out any of your beautiful teeth I’ll cut his balls.
It’s better to put a bandage over a black eye and have people think you’ve just had an operation on your eye than reveal your black eye and have people believe a man beat you. If a man ever gives you a black eye I’ll cut his balls.
When we die it doesn’t mean that we don’t exist anymore. True, we are buried, we become a skeleton, then we become soil, but all that we have left behind is still there. Whenever people talk about us, well, we come alive again.
When a man gives a woman a ring she must immediately drop the ring on the ground and listen up for a ting sound, the sound of gold. No ting sound means the ring is camelotte, fake, and you’ve been fooled.
A dead man’s last wishes are law and must be followed.
You can ask a quilt maker to put anything you want on your quilt (leaves, birds, fruit, vegetables . . . ) but do not ask her to change how things are in real life. Examples: purple limes, red breadfruit, green frangipani flowers, black tomatoes . . .
Don’t start thinking you know more than I do.
Materena presses the stop button, puts the tape in an envelope, writes Leilani a note, and slips the envelope under Leilani’s bedroom door. Then she checks that the gas is closed, switches the lights off, and goes to bed.
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