Sunday, 6 October 2013
About 1km along the road back to town from my hotel, it was obvious a church was up the side road. 4WDs everywhere and women dressed up Marquesan style walking towards the building. The service had started when I entered but I found a seat. Estimate 1000 people in there. June you would have been enraptured with the congregation's singing harmonics. So fabulous, brought tears to my eyes. Everyone sings and for the most part exceptionally melodic. And predictable so that I hummed or la la la'd throughout. Extraordinary way of starting many songs with the high soprano voices then suddenly like the melodic crash of waves on the shore, the male bass and baritones would enter the song. Amazing sound. The sort which makes you feel happy to be alive. Service in French not Marquesan. Would be just another way France would show its domination. Was last to leave after looking at the wood carved stories on the walls. And finally the soft paw of the priest passed through my hand in farewell. Continued to walk towards town looking for the oppositions Protestant church. Instead found the only shop open for the day. Bought tinned sardines from Morocco, and tinned vegetables where they have pull tops so I can get into them. Otherwise there won't be much food around. Rose will cook specially for me if I really want it but I will let her be - only 2 others staying there. French Poly closes for Sunday. Every Sunday. Rather like our Good Friday. Right now I am sitting under a tree staring out into the large bay with with its bobbing boats, and with cool breezes swirling around. Feeling better in spirit by the moment.