The Samoan Letters

The experience of living in an exotic place with a strange new culture was endlessly fascinating to the Broquets, and it was natural for them to want to share it with their family back home. The relatives in Detroit, however, were shoveling snow and dealing with race riots and didn’t have all that much interest in Polynesian tchotchkes. What is a memorable and precious keepsake of a glorious warm day at the beach to one person is just a weird woven fan adorned with dirty chicken feathers to someone whose hasn’t experienced a temperature above 28 degrees for the past six months.

Jean found this out firsthand. Excited to share all the amazing handcrafted items she could not resist buying, the first two years saw her sending package after package of carved wooden tikis and shell necklaces to the relatives back home. The somewhat tepid thank-you notes that arrived did not dissuade her; she had a particular weakness for the vibrant printed cotton fabrics that were available everywhere on the island and assumed everyone else did as well. She had always made her own clothes, and she went wild in creating a wardrobe that fit the climate and the casualness of the island. It did not seem to occur to her that what was perfect for polynesian spring would not necessarily work in Detroit in February.

The fabric is to be split in half and the grandparent’s presents wrapped in it. It could be used as a tablecloth or maybe made into an apron. Also, the material is all washable. You commented on the amount but didn’t say anything about the patterns. Are they too wild or do you think you will use them? I got some of the coral and tan for myself and made a long dress. I think it’s beautiful, but then maybe my taste has been stunted or something. 
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The woven basket is either for knitting or a handbag and is for my mother. The little wooden turtle is for my father, it could be used for cigarettes (although he doesn’t smoke) or candy or just a conversation piece. Fathers are difficult to buy for, either in the U.S. or in Samoa. The wooden leaf bowl is for Grandma B. I don’t know how it would hold up under a lot of washing because the Samoans haven’t progressed to protective coatings yet. I thought it would make a lovely catch-all on her buffet. The wooden fish is a drum and is for Grandpa B. It makes such a lovely loud thump, to be used by the grandchildren or on the grandchildren as a concussion accompaniment to a clarinet or violin solo. 

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The four little boats are pau-paus (pow-pows) and are for the boy cousins and the little wooden figure is a tiki for Albert. I couldn’t find a fifth pau-pau but this looked like him and the girls thought he would like it. I was going to get Terry & Judy dolls but then I thought maybe they might be interested in the necklaces. They are called ulas — our girls like them and are wearing them to school with the new Samoan print shifts I made. 
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We have quite a collection of shells. I don’t know how unusual they are but they have all come to mean a great deal to us.The kids remember where we got a certain one and who found which type. We picked up most of them on the beaches, but some of the really unusual ones we bought at the downtown market. I guess this is not cricket in the shell collecting world, but who cares. We have a large box full plus a couple of dill pickle jars, gallon size, full. We had intended to send all of the nieces and nephews a little collection for Christmas. So we got them all out and started sorting. Nobody could agree on which ones to send and we felt that they couldn’t possibly appreciate them as much as we did so we put them all back in the box and sent grass skirts and tikis instead! I do intend to use them when we get home. I am going to make shell curtains for our new polynesian den in the basement.

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I have never fully recovered from the crushing disappointment I suffered over the reaction to those lovely straw hats. I really struck out, didn’t I? If you only knew how pleased I was with them! Oh well, you can’t win ‘em all. You could always put pots of geraniums in them and set them on the porch or patio. 

Jean

By the end of the second year, Jean had just about given up on gift-giving and was simply sending cards or best wishes in the letters home. The parents were relieved they no longer had to pretend to want carved wooden drums shaped like fish that made a tremendous amount of noise when children banged on them, and Jean was saving a hell of a lot of money on postage. She had been offended at first, but soon realized there was an upside – everything she had already sent would eventually be given back to her when they returned. The polynesian den dream was alive!