Copyright © 2000 by Célestine Hitiura Vaite
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
WARNER BOOKS
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.
First eBook Edition: September 2006
ISBN: 978-0-316-07271-7
Contents
Copyright Page
Dedication
A Love Movie
The Proposal
The Man Loana Was Supposed to Marry
Who Is Going to Walk Materena down the Aisle?
Kika
The Peg
Eternal Sleep
Frying Pan
The Colorful Shirt
New Bed—New Beginning
Mosquito Coil
The Birth of Isidore Louis Junior
Sexy Loving
Tapeta
Imelda
New Carpet
Maco and His Girlfriend
Fifty Francs
A Little Drive with Mama Teta
One-Minute Visit
Heritage
A Postcard from France
Totem
Brooming
It’s the Rope Around the Neck
The Old Girlfriend
Mussels
Teacher
Belief
The Story of the Coconut
Tupapa’u
First Day Here
The Electricity Man
Colorful Imagination
Whatever You Want to Be Is Fine with Me
Squashed Banana
Marae
Circumcision
The Swimming Pool
The Adoption
In the Trash
Words of Love
The Freezer
Employee of the Month
The Radio
A Letter of Separation
How Materena Got Married
Acknowledgments
Reading Group Guide
About the Author
The Day You Came to Me
Enjoy a trip to the South Pacific in
Célestine Vaite’s
Breadfruit
A wise and enchanting new novel of romance, matrimony, and family life, Tahitian-style
. . . and in
Frangipani
Vaite’s internationally celebrated novel about big dreams on a small island. Frangipani introduced Materena Mahi, the best listener in Tahiti, whose cleverness, generosity, and appreciation of Tahitian tradition make her one of the most appealing heroines in contemporary fiction.
“Would a few hours in Tahiti lift the spirits? In Frangipani, Célestine Vaite has created the perfect guide: Materena Mahi, professional housecleaner and mother of three.… Materena’s journey from cleaner to Tahiti’s answer to Oprah makes for the most memorable debut for a character since The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency introduced Precious Ramotswe to the world.… Generous and funny, Frangipani offers all the warmth and delight of a tropical vacation, without the jet lag. Best of all, there are two sequels to come.”
— Yvonne Zipp, Christian Science Monitor
“This engaging debut novel—the first in a trilogy—is a winning tale of mothers and daughters.”
— People
“This delightful novel speaks to the universal nature of the mother-daughter experience. Even though Célestine Vaite writes of Tahiti, a place I’ve never been and a culture with which I’m entirely unfamiliar, I felt as if she were writing about me, my own daughters, and my own mother.”
— Ayelet Waldman, author of Love and Other Impossible Pursuits
“Vaite renders a vision of Tahiti which leaps off the page.”
— Jenna Price, Canberra Times
“Frangipani picks out the cadences of daily life on Tahiti’s main island of Papeete. The whisk-whisk of a cleaner’s broom, the fusion of languages—French, English, Tahitian—and the banter of cousins who meet in the street form the score for this tropical island comedy of manners.… Vaite serves her culture well by taking us into the kitchens of those fibro shacks where we can hear their travails in a chatty narrative. Generously, Frangipani gives us Gauguin’s women in their off-hours.”
— Victoria Kelly, San Francisco Chronicle
“Written in the same good-natured tone as Alexander McCall Smith’s bestsellers, Vaite’s novel is replete with local customs and lore, some of which are truly bizarre. Gossip and endless love intrigues seem to be what makes Tahiti tick, and Vaite captures, with admirable warmth and humor, the eccentricities of her homeland.”
— Cameron Woodhead, Age
“Frangipani is a feast. It is bursting with vitality and charm.”
— Michael McGirr, Sydney Morning Herald
“Vaite takes us beyond the resort compounds into the rhythms and rivalries of a tropical culture. A novel about two strong women, Frangipani testifies to the necessity of upholding traditions and defying them too.”
— Carrington Alvarez, Elle
“A warm and lyrical look at the fabric of family life in Tahiti. Vaite uses words to paint a vivid Tahitian landscape worthy of a Gauguin painting and delivers a memorable story about big dreams on a small island. Vaite has crafted an unforgettable heroine: Materena is passionate, clever, and never without words of wisdom or a bit of folklore to share with a troubled soul. By the end, the reader is left wanting more, more, more. The good news: there are two more installments to come.”
— Kirkus Reviews
“Frangipani celebrates women of all generations, affectionately portraying their strength, resilience, and humor. The tale is told in enchanting episodes that give a glimpse into Tahitian life and a loving insight into the hopes and dreams that shape the relationships between mothers and daughters.… Bubbling with humor, gossip, and worldly advice, Frangipani is a delight.”
— Jody Lee, Good Reading
“A story told in charming episodes, brimming with the wisdom of a strong Tahitian cultural history.… It is a style that transports the reader to a land rich in breadfruit and traditional stories.”
— Australian Bookseller & Publisher
“Vaite, a Tahitian living in Australia and an established literary force in that country, makes her American debut with this lovely and transcendent mother-daughter story.… An intriguing slice of Tahitian life.”
— Debbie Bogenschutz, Library Journal
“I read Frangipani in one sitting, falling in love with the characters. Célestine Vaite writes about the bond between mothers and daughters with such truth and tenderness. I loved reading about the struggle between Materena and Leilani, even when it made me cry. There are no hopes and dreams like those of a mother for her daughter, and Ms. Vaite made them so real, I found myself missing my mother terribly.”
— Luanne Rice
“Vaite writes with great depth of character and style. She manages to convey the warmth, humor, and delight of the Tahitian lifestyle.”
— Melbourne Weekly
“Frangipani, set in Tahiti, is billed as a novel that portrays a mother-daughter relationship, but it’s more than that, much more.… The characters speak breathlessly, and the narrative voice is filled with morsels of Tahitian life.… A delightful read.”
— Joanne Kiggins, Blogcritics.org
“In lilting language rife with many a charming Tahitian saying, Vaite presents an archetypal story of mother-daughter conflict.… Conveying a deep respect for women’s strength and peppered with catchy aphorisms, this funny and moving mot
her-daughter story should have wide appeal.”
— Joanne Wilkinson, Booklist
Also by Célestine Vaite
Frangipani
For my mother,
Viola Vaite, who taught me that love is the greatest motive of all
And in the loving memory of my godmother,
Henriette Estall,
who taught me to believe in willpower and to get up after each fall
A Love Movie
Materena likes movies about love.
When there’s a love movie on the television, Materena sits on the sofa, her hands crossed, and her eyes focused on the TV screen. She doesn’t broom or cut her toenails, she doesn’t iron, or fold clothes. She doesn’t do anything except concentrate on the movie.
Movies about love move Materena and sometimes it happens that she imagines she’s the heroine.
The love movie tonight is about a woman who loves a man with a passion, but, unfortunately, she has to marry another man—it’s the plan of her parents. Her future husband is not bad-looking or mean. It’s just that she feels nothing for that man. When she looks at him, it’s like she’s looking at a tree—whereas when she looks at the man she loves, her heart goes boom, boom, she wants to kiss him, and she wants to hold him tight.
The woman in the movie meets the man she loves one last time—it is a day before her grandiose wedding, and he’s leaving for a faraway country, never to return, because it’s too much for him to bear to stay in the neighborhood. It’s easier for him to just disappear.
The lovers meet behind a thick hedge. They kiss, they embrace, then he falls to his knees and declares: “I will love you till I die, till I die, I swear to God, you are the center of my universe, my guiding light, the only one.”
The heroine hides her face in her gloved hands and bursts into tears. There’s violin music, and a tear escapes from the corner of Materena’s eye. She’s sad for the woman. She can feel the pain.
“Poor her,” Materena sighs.
“Zero movie! What a load of crap!” This is Pito’s comment.
In his opinion, there is too much crying in that movie, too much carrying-on, no action. And the man, what a bébé la la—wake up to yourself.
“Well, go read your Akim comic in the kitchen.” Materena wipes her eyes with her pareu.
But Pito is too comfortable on the sofa, and he wants to watch the end of that silly movie. Materena wishes she could transport Pito somewhere else. He’s been annoying her ever since the movie started with his comments and sighs.
Pito doesn’t like movies about love. He prefers cowboy movies, movies with action and as little talking as possible.
The movie is near the end and Materena hopes Pito is not going to spoil it with a stupid remark. Materena needs complete silence. The end of a love movie is very crucial. There’s a lot of tension. In Materena’s mind, the heroine will be reunited with the man she loves, but love movies don’t always end the way Materena would like them to end.
There’s the grandiose wedding and it is clear to Materena that the bride’s thoughts are not in the church. She keeps looking back, waiting for the man she loves to appear and rescue her. Materena can guess it. Materena expects the man to barge into the church at any second too, but he’s far away, riding on his horse. Materena says in her head, Eh, go get the woman you love, you idiot. But he keeps on riding that horse.
And meanwhile, to Materena’s sadness, the heroine becomes the wife of the man she doesn’t love.
Confetti greets the newlyweds outside the church and doves are set free. The heroine watches the doves fly toward the gray sky.
It is the end of the movie and Materena is really annoyed, she prefers happy endings. She listens to the soft melody of the piano during the credits and reads the names of the principal actors. It reminds her that the sad story is only a movie and not the reality.
After the final credits have finished, she switches the TV off.
“Zero movie!” Pito gets off the sofa like he weighs over two hundred pounds.
Materena tidies up the living room.
“Zero movie!” Pito is now making himself comfortable in the bed.
Materena pulls the bedcover her way and rolls to the far side of the bed.
“I tell you, Materena, if I was the man in the movie, I tell you, if it was I, the man . . .” Pito says he would have snatched the woman and escaped with her on the horse.
“Yes, okay. Good night.” Materena is not listening to Pito anymore.
She closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep. And she dreams she has to marry the man in the movie, but the man she loves is Pito. She’s in the church, about to pronounce “I do,” when the door of the church swings open. It is Pito.
He is on a horse and he’s wearing cowboy clothes and a cowboy hat.
People stare as Pito makes his way to the altar, they also stare at the horse.
Pito grabs Materena by the waist and he says to the man she’s supposed to marry, “Listen, that woman, she’s for me—you go look for another woman, okay?” Pito has a fierce look on his face.
Pito and Materena ride out of the church, they ride far away, far away, to the desert.
When Materena wakes up, she’s laughing.
The Proposal
By eleven o’clock that night, Materena, scrubbing her oven, is still laughing about her dream—the part when Pito barges into the church on a horse, wearing a Stetson! Can you imagine?
Well, Materena might as well laugh now, because once Pito is home from the bar, she won’t be laughing at all. He’ll be drunk, talk a lot of nothing, as usual, and get on her nerves. Last time he was drunk, he went on about how he had to push women away—they were all over him and all he wanted to do was drink his beer at the bar and talk with his colleagues about fishing.
Here he comes now, Materena can hear him fumbling with the door.
“Materena!” Pito bursts out as he lurches through the doorway. “Ahhh, Materena,” he slurs, red-eyed, swaying on his feet. “Marry me, Materena.”
Materena just smiles at him, all the while scrubbing her oven.
“Are you going to marry me or what?” Pito looks like he’s going to fall on her.
“All right, okay.” Materena drops the scrubbing brush as he pins her in his arms. She’s got to get Pito into bed before he wakes up the kids.
Five minutes later, Pito is in bed, unconscious and snoring. And Materena is glad. She isn’t going to take his marriage proposal seriously. Ah no. A ring on her finger, it’s not an obsession. In her opinion, they’re like a married couple, anyway—they share a bed and they share the kitchen table. He’s her man, she’s his woman, and it’s no different from being husband and wife. She doesn’t need a ring on her finger and a framed marriage certificate displayed on the wall. Materena goes back to her oven. She scrubs, and thinks back to the day she met Pito.
When she was sixteen years old, Materena worked at the local snack during the school holidays. Pito came to the snack one afternoon with a friend, Ati.
Aue, when Materena first laid her eyes on Pito, she liked the look of him instantly. It’s not that he was the most handsome man her eyes had ever seen, but there was something about him.
Pito wanted a ham sandwich, so Materena made him a ham sandwich. Pito took it and gave Materena his money. He looked at her, but it was like she didn’t exist. The other fellow gave her the interested look, but she wasn’t interested in him. She served him and went on serving the other customers, but every now and then her interested eyes would drift to the sexy man wearing the ripped T-shirt.
When Pito left, Materena wanted to follow him. His friend winked at her, but she gave him a dirty look. She didn’t want him to think that she was interested in him, because then he would tell Pito.
The next day, Materena agonized in front of the mirror, trying to do a complicated style with her hair instead of the usual chignon. But it was hopeless. She’d never bothered with a complicated hairstyle before, it had always been
the same chignon, since the age of eight years old. She got so frustrated she felt like ripping her hair out. In the end, she decorated her chignon with tiare Tahiti flowers, and Loana, Materena’s mother, got mad because the flowers were reserved for the Virgin Mary, Understanding Woman. Materena had to take every single flower out of her chignon and put it back in the bowl next to the statue of the Virgin Mary.
Pito didn’t come to the snack that day. In fact, a whole week passed before he made another appearance. When he did, Materena was very nervous.
“Ham sandwich?” she asked, wanting to show Pito that she remembered him.
He gave her a smile.
It was impossible for Materena to do her job after that. The afternoon was a total disaster, and the boss yelled at her quite a few times.
But Pito came to the snack the following day.
And the next.
A little laughter, a little giggle, eyes meeting eyes, and all kinds of ideas coming into their heads. The boss was forced to remind Materena that her job wasn’t to giggle but to make sandwiches. The boss gave Pito a dirty look, but she couldn’t tell him to stop coming to her snack just because he was making Materena soft in the head. He also ate a lot of sandwiches. He was a very good customer.
Pito finally arranged a rendezvous with Materena for nine o’clock at the frangipani tree behind the bank. As soon as Materena got home from work, she went into the bathroom to scrub her hands to get rid of the onion smell.
At eight thirty, she was in bed.
By quarter to nine, she was sneaking out the window and over the side fence.
And there was Pito, waiting for her under the frangipani tree—with a rolled quilt in his arms.
They talked for about two seconds.
Then his mouth touched her mouth… and that was the end of Materena the good Catholic girl.
She had discovered sexy loving.
Loana had warned Materena that if she ever found out about a boyfriend from the coconut radio and not from Materena herself, there would be syrup—meaning that Materena would get a couple of slaps across the face.
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