“THE PARADISE OF THE PACIFIC”
By Albert Cary
Before coming to these islands, the expression “the paradise of the Pacific,” was often spoken in my presence, and I read it in all the literature that I could obtain concerning the islands. I began almost to loath coming, lest I should here lapse into idle enjoyment of the delightsomeness of the situation. Many of the workers in the home field seemed to think that ours was the sweetest of privileges, with almost no hardships connected therewith; and from what we were told, we, too, were quite afraid that that would be the case. So prevalent was this view, that it seems to me a proper setting of the situation is due our brethren at home, as well as the workers here. When we came here in July, the sense of disappointment would have been complete had we been looking only for a “snap.” We were first driven through more than fifty acres of burned district, which was truly as barren and waste as we have ever imagined the Sahara to be; then through an unfinished street, through a narrow alley ten feet wide, and at last through our unimproved but clean school campus, to the front of the three cottages that are the teachers’ homes, the last of which we now occupy. Our yards were so full of tall, dry, ugly weeds that we could scarcely walk through them. Honolulu was in the midst of an extensive drought, and the “hottest weather ever known here” was on. We worked hard under a vertical sun to dig up weeds, plant fruit, and start a small garden. So far, all we have succeeded in raising, after four-months’ trial is a few banana plants! At first, we did not have sufficient water. But now, the scene is changed, the water has come, and our yards are converted into small swamps. Young plants that were becoming thrifty have rotted, and the grass and weeds are again taking possession in a wild manner; for we can not get onto the ground to cut them, on account of the mud and water. We were told that all, or about all, one had to do here for a living was to get out of bed, shake a tree, and down into his lap would fall his breakfast, perhaps all ready to eat. But the luscious papaias are ten cents each; the rich alligator pears are three for a quarter, or more; the breadfruits are likewise dear. Only bananas are cheap, selling at five or ten cents a dozen,14but they are only about one half the size of the Florida kind sold in the Eastern States. The following recital of how the native Hawaiian gets from nature’s storehouse his free breakfast may be of interest. It is a true story by an eyewitness:— With the dawning of the new day,—or, rather, long after it has dawned; for the native does not like to stop his music, singing, and “swipes,” till about midnight,—the family bestir themselves lazily from their mats on the floor, and two children are sent out with small pails to pilfer their morning meal from nature’s bountiful supply. After a tour of some neighboring taro patch or rice field, their buckets are full, and the meal is ready. No cooking is required. All sit around and begin. But what delicious morsel is it with which they are to satisfy their appetites? Oh, the pails are full of dainty snails! One by one, they are taken out of their receptacle, the protruding portion bitten off, and the remainder sucked from its retreat in the pearly shell. Of course, there are natives here that are as polished and refined as any white man; but they are not the kind that take nature’s “free lunch” for breakfast. People in the States often say they would like to come to Hawaii to live on the bountiful fruits found here; but those here actually live almost entirely on fruit from the States. And these fruits sell here at the same fancy price that foreign fruits sell for at home,—grapes, two pounds for twenty-five cents; oranges, five cents each, or more; apples, eight or ten for a quarter; other fruits accordingly; and the native fruits, too, are largely valued and sold on the same basis. There are homes here which are gorgeously magnificent, scenes entrancingly beautiful, and cultivated vegetation that is almost beyond comparison; but it requires an abundance of gold coin to take part in these things, save to see them with the eyes. Since coming here, we have seen persons return to the Coast disgusted with a salary of three and one-half or four dollars a day, saying that they can not live on that here. Though our salary since coming here has been about the same as that received in the home field, it has been adequate to provide only an economically prepared table, with none left for clothes, or for that “time of need” that is so much talked of by some. Here we shall have to let our Father take care of that time; for we have no funds from which to “lay up.” These facts are written, not to complain of our hardships, but only that you who read may know that even here “there’s a cross to be borne,” and that we have the privilege of knowing, at least a little, of “the fellowship of His sufferings.” As a whole, the work in Honolulu has passed through some exceedingly discouraging times. At present there are omens of a break in the clouds and of a steady advance. In the school, the workers at times feel almost spellbound with the sight of what God is accomplishing for us. There is a precious semination of divine truth taking place in young hearts, which some day must bear a rich harvest in souls saved; for the same God that “spake, and it was done,” has said, My word “shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.” The boys are being taught from the Bible, “Gospel Primer,” “Early Writings,” “Marshaling of the Nations,” “Daniel and the Revelation,” and other of our leading works; and are thus receiving the truth, and the present truth; and we know God will develop here “trees of righteousness,” if we but allow them to be wholly “the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified.” “Brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified, even as it is with you.” ALBERT CARY.