“…So, as I was saying, old chap, I spent a fortnight in the doldrums around Melanesia; then a storm swept in and tore off my mainsail and left me with nothing but my umbrella to use as a paddle!” I gestured to my trusty black umbrella leaning against a nearby palm. “Stroke of good luck to have drifted into your little lagoon, wasn’t it?”
My host merely grunted, so I continued. “I must say: I’m so impressed with the hospitality of your tribe! How kind of you to provide a nice hot bath for a weary traveller.”
“Jamooda-kully-wadoo-wadoo!” said my host. He thumped the tall pole he was holding into the sandy ground, rattling the strands of knuckle bones and shells hanging off of it. His headdress of animal jaws and feathers trembled as he spoke. “Kama-dadi-quappa,” he said, adding another log to the fire beneath my bath.
“Hmm? Well, I’m not sure I understand, but I suppose you’re concerned that my bath is not too hot.” Although the outdoor bath was a bit cramped for my lanky British frame, I didn’t complain. “No need to worry, my dear fellow! The bath is absolutely lovely—a bit of respite after having spent several weeks lost at sea.”
A toothless, old woman appeared out of nowhere and approached the bath. Embarrassed, I sank down lower in the water. With an approving pinch of the flesh around my shoulder, she threw some Frangipani blossoms and bath salt into the water.
“I say! How delightful! Some local aromatic petals to scent my bath! I’ll be restored to my former glory after this lovely soak.” I nodded my appreciation to the wizened old woman. She drew her weathered face into a great, gummy grin.
“Jamooda-kully-wadoo WADOO!” my host with the wooden staff added, quite emphatically. She muttered a reply, before disappearing into the foliage beyond the bathing circle.
The old woman returned again and handed me a coconut shell and nodded. “Makku, soli-soli!” The gummy grin appeared again.
“Oh? A drink? How kind.” Inside the coconut shell cup was a green, foamy concoction that smelled of pond mud. I hesitated, but she beckoned me to drink. “An island brew, no doubt! Well, down the hatch, as they say!”
The old woman watched me intently.
PFFTTTtt! I spat the ghastly brew out. “Good heavens! That’s revolting!” A gritty, bitter residue clung to my tongue and lips.
The old lady’s grin dissolved into a steely scowl. My heart lurched in my chest: I felt dreadful that I might have insulted her. “Lovely cup,” I stammered, as I handed the coconut shell back to her.
“Bandoo fari-fari. Whopali-mai!!” she screamed and stamped her foot before stalking off. The big fellow stepped forward and grabbed the cup from my hand and flung it in the nearby ferns. He folded his huge arms across his chest and glared down at me in my bath.
I cringed under his gaze. “Oh dear,” I muttered. Oddly, my lips and tongue were tingling and quickly growing numb. At the same time I winced at the glare of the sun in my eyes.
“I thay…” My tongue flopped in my mouth like a dying fish. “Could I throuble you to hand me my parathol, right there.” I pointed at the trusty black umbrella.
“Mitti-mooty-mandalop!” he said without budging from his post, even though the umbrella was within his reach. His gaze cut right through me.
I scratched my beard, perplexed at his obstinacy. “By George, I’ve got it! Of courth—you’ve never theen an umbrella. Well, I athure you, old chap, ith quite thafe.” I stretched out to reach for the umbrella and stood to my feet. No sooner had I grasped it than the old woman returned again. There I was, dripping and stark naked, but for some wilted frangipani blossoms plastered to my skin. I thrust open the umbrella for privacy.
The sight of the opening umbrella made my host drop his staff in alarm, and his bride threw up the tray of vegetables she had julienned for me. They both tore off into the jungle, screaming.
Parading behind my open umbrella for modesty’s sake, I went in search of my clothing and hosts. I discovered my shirt and trousers hanging in a smoky, mud hut. I must say: the odd structure had the most peculiar decor. Hung from the rafters were hundreds of shrunken heads with long hair and eerie beards, not too dissimilar from mine.
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