January 18, 2009,
I am back in a rural settlement after seven years away from Fiji to refresh my Hindi language ability.
Last evening I visited Salen and his wife Natasha. Salen, though he never comes to church gave me a great welcome and we drank yaqona (kava) and chatted until late in the night. This morning as I had breakfast of fresh roti and curry with them I wondered how I could approach Salen with the big question of the meaning of life.
After breakfast he insisted on mixing some more yaqona. As we sat amicably together I said to him,
“Salen, do you ever think about death?”
“Yes,” he said emphatically, “I think about it all the time.”
The heart rose up in me, thinking that I was onto something now.
“So what thoughts come into your mind?” I asked eagerly.
“I think always about who is going to grab, when I pass on, all the things I have worked for and gathered.”
My heart settled back down again!
