A Blessed Morning in Maupiti

Dawn comes quickly in the tropics and we were up early for Sunday church. Arriving bright and early at the large Protestant Church we luckily met the minister as he peddled his bike into the fore court and found out that the Protestants met at 10:00 am, but he did say the Catholics down the road meet at 9:00 am.

I knew I was going to enjoy our stay on Maupiti once I saw this sign during our walk.

Well, it was a nice morning for a walk so we headed south along the small two-lane road seeing an occasional motor scooter or walker. Maupiti is far off the beaten path and gets few tourists, so everyone we met would great us with I'orana, the traditional Tahitian greeting. Some French is spoken here, but nothing like the other French Polynesian islands.

The gas station and fishing pier seem to be the hub of social activity on Maupiti.

We continued down to the island's only gas station at the fishing pier, nestled under a massive rock cliff face that dominates the Maupiti skyline. We watched a dive boat getting ready to depart and several local fishermen out for a busman's holiday of offshore fishing. There was very light wind today, and even at 8:30 am it was starting to get hot.

This truck stopped along the way and picked up boys for the church service.

We doubled back on the road watching a pick-up truck with four young boys, all in white shirt and ties, heading off to a church service (Mormon's?) and saw increased foot and bike traffic as other locals began to head off to their respective churches.

The Catholic Church made us feel very welcome as various members stopped to shake our hands or give us the traditional French kiss on the cheeks. 

South Pacific cultures are very family oriented with kids going from a mother to auntie to uncle during a church service.

We arrived at the Catholic Church, a very small rose-colored building with louvered windows along one side. We entered and sat in the rear pews and watched as other parishioners arrived. The women, dressed in very colorful Polynesian print "Mother Hubbard" dresses with small straw hats festooned with tropical flowers, all greeted each other with the French style, two-cheek kiss. One young 12-year-old girl literally kissed everyone in the church, now numbering around twenty people, including Meryl and I, which was very touching.

A female priest dressed in white came up and greeted us and welcomed us to the church. She had a copied paper of the morning's service, including the songs that were mostly in Tahitian. We tried following along but Tahitian is a tough language to fake your singing. While the congregation was small they made up for it with beautiful, melodic singing. I don't think we'll ever have a church service to match the one we attended in Hapatoni in the Marquesas, but it was still a lovely service.

We left a bit early and headed down the road to the much larger Protestant church located on the water's edge. The wall outside the pink structure was lined with bikes and motor scooters, and a large number of people lingered outside waiting for the service to begin. Since it was getting hotter, we opted to go inside the church early and find a seat on the right side of the church. We felt we were at a wedding where one side was more populated that the other, then figured out the other side had windows opening to the sea breeze and was therefore cooler.

The same minister who originally greeted us came down and invited us to sit in the front row, but we said we'd like to see the people and take pictures, which was fine with him. Meryl and I were both raised Protestant, so we had a little higher comfort level for understanding the service.

As the church bells clanged the church began to fill up. Designed to hold up to two hundred people, we estimated about 100 people were in attendance, predominately older women and some men, but also some younger women and lots of kids. Again, the church was a phantasmagoria of brightly colored dresses, flowered hats, and other decorative flowers.

The service began with a children's choir sitting in the front rows and numbering around 40 kids singing several traditional songs in Tahitian, interspersed with an older woman (minister?) who read from the Bible. At times the congregation broke out into songs, with different groups of women taking the lead and others harmonizing along. The volume at which these women sing is amazing, along with the clarity and harmonizing of their voices.

Next our friend in the beautiful purple Polynesian shirt came to the pulpit and spoke in English, addressing Meryl and I and welcoming us to his church. He also explained a little about the sermon he was about to give. We felt so special and blessed to be accepted by this community of people in this very remote part of the Pacific Ocean.

This little guy was captivated by the two white people sitting behind him.

Since we couldn't understand any of the Tahitian sermon or songs, our main entertainment was a captivating 2-year-old boy sitting two pews in front of us. Bedecked in new matching Tahitian print shirt and shorts, he was sandwiched between his mother and grandmother and spent the entire service facing the rear of the church and checking out people. He was obviously fascinated by us, especially Meryl's blonde hair. Down at the end of the row was a similar aged young girl, with fresh plumerias in her hair, teased the little boy with sideway glances. Had he not been anchored by the two women, I'm sure he would have run down the pew to meet a new playmate. As is common in Polynesian churches, the children freely roam from mother to auntie to father. This little girl made sure her circuit included passing right behind the pew with the little boy who was bemused by her behavior. This is a very small island, you wonder if we returned in twenty years if these two were in love and about to be married in the same church. You never know.

The little girl seemed bent on teasing all the boys while this little boy showed off his new paper airplane to us.

Around the end of the service the majority of the children entered back into the church from their Sunday School classes and went to various mothers, fathers, aunties, etc. One little four-year-old boy sat right in front of us, speaking in Tahitian and (I think) telling us about the two paper boats (bateaux) that he had built in Sunday School. He was quite animated about the boat going up and down huge waves, and I imagine he understood the conditions faced by the fisherman when they tried to negotiate the pass in rough weather.

After the service we slowly motored our way back to our boat thinking about what a very special place Maupiti is and wishing we had more time to stay and get to know the people and enjoy this very special island.