A visit from Mary

For the Catholics of Flores, October is 'Mary Month', apparently (Why am I writing this instead of Beth?). In our neighbourhood that means an icon of Mary is carried around from house to house, each home hosting the icon for one night. Every evening a prayer meeting is held at the host house, and at the end of October it was our turn.

Apparently, we are so honoured because of Beth's Catholicism, which she had to disclose to the police when we first registered ourselves in Maumere (in Indonesia you are compelled to be one of the five religions), and so everyone knows about it. They have chosen to overlook my more dubious religious credentials (No one knew what 'Jedi' meant), and in any case most religious stuff here is carried out by the women, while the men do more important things, such as sit around smoking or pretend to mend their motorbikes.

About an hour after nightfall, a procession of locals (mainly children) appeared at our house, each dragging a ubiquitous Indonesian standard-issue plastic chair. They set up camp in our front yard, and I dispensed biscuits and peanuts, all of which were scoffed up with rather unseemly haste. I was then told by our neighbour that you are not allowed to eat until after the prayers to Maria, so I snatched all the plates of treats back from the kids, to their chagrin.

The service was about forty minutes long, and was mainly singing, which is something that everyone enjoys here. I still have no idea why we were all standing in our garden singing at a picture of Mary, but perhaps my quest for a rational explanation shows how I continue to miss the point of these things.

After the ceremony, I was allowed to get the biscuits back out, which lasted about ten seconds. Many of the people who came are very poor indeed, and biscuits are a rare luxury. One of the old men asked Beth where the cigarettes were, as apparently it is 'traditional' for the men to be given cigarettes after any religious ceremony, and indeed, it was the only reason he had come. It is amazing how many 'traditions' in Flores, apparently stretching back hundreds of years, seem to revolve around cigarettes or arrak. We explained that we did not have any cigarettes, and he implored us to run down the shop and buy some, until his wife slapped him for being so cheeky to the white folk.

I offered him peanuts by way of compensation, but he laughed, showing us the absence of any teeth in his mouth, and explained that he can no longer eat peanuts, but that cigarettes are his only pleasure now, and with this he picked up his plastic chair and shuffled back to his house, which is all of fifty metres away. Beth and I decided that the time has come to stock up on cigarettes, and dispense them liberally to the locals, even if that seems to rub against our mission to improve health and livelihoods. Afterall, you can't argue with tradition.

Comments

[mantha]

In the absence of updates while you've been on holiday (hope you had a fabulous time by the way) here are a couple more snippets from The Week - going some way to illustrate the ludicrousness of developed world priorities:

The Health and Safety Executive is providing businesses with a specially designed "shoe" to check that their polished floors are not too slippery. The manual that comes with the "standard simulated shoe sole" explains that it produces a coefficient of friction, which, taken with the micro-roughness value of the floor surface, produces an equation which bosses can use to work out whether staff are likely to fall over.

And;

A feminist group in San Fransisco is campaigning against the missionary position on the grounds that is oppresses women. "How can we build a society where men and women are equal if, in the most important room in our homes, the man is always on top" says Maggie Hustbeam of End Male Dominance Now.

While you're entertaining Mary, this is the kind of thing we have to contend with.

[mantha]

oops. sorry about the typo. yes, yes, Fran-C-isco, I know.