Music to Magic to End

It is 5:00 a.m. and I am in Fiji after several weeks of travel and work through some of the more remote areas in the Fijian and Solomon Islands. This is the first morning I have gotten up so ‘early’. The funny thing is, I woke up with words from an old Helen Reddy song going through my head. I am gifted (or cursed) with the ability to recall half the words to a million songs so as I write these words I must preface it with this…these maybe part Helen-part Nancy.

Come with me…
Music to magic to end…I’ll play you over and over again…
Lost in this feeling, so glad you opened my door…

Music to magic to end…I have heard music that is too magic to end…

We have travelled to fringes of the rainforests on the Island of Guadalcanal to a small village called Verakabikabi. It sits in a pocket that time has seemed to forgotten. The church, which is the newest building in town, is thatched top and bottom with palm fronds and has a dirt floor. The sides are open for air and ventilation. The homes are the same…just a little older and a scant more private.

We spent a few days here and I have been in these structures during downpours of rain. It is amazing how dry you can stay. There is no electricity (not even a generator) or running water. Well, every afternoon from 1:00 to 3:00 it rains like crazy so technically water is ‘running’ everywhere. They have no real catchment system for all the rain either. Everyone sets out his or her largest pot when the rain hits and gathers all the water that will be used for that day.

I found myself captivated by this village and it’s shy people. We were told that they had never had visitors before. During the civil unrest in the early part of the 21st century a lot of people were displaced. Over the last few years they have returned to their villages and homes but struggle within the depths of poverty. Their meager farms are just starting to produce enough crops for market. Each farmer is faced with a tough dilemma…food for his family’s consumption or food for the money needed to repair his home or purchase staples. Often times the people in these villages go with out food for days at a time. They struggle with malnutrition and the illnesses associated with it. Our friends Leah and William are committed to helping in this area. They come three times a week with meager supplies for a small feeding program for the school children. Most children did not attend school but have resumed with the initiation of this program. We were to spend three days in this area working with the local health care workers in an attempt to provide much needed medical care, medical supplies for the area (this consisted of about 70 different villages), and to spend time with the local health workers encouraging and assisting them regarding the supplies given.

Tom and I along with our two health educators had met the villagers after church on Sunday and were excited to return the next day with the rest of the team. I was excited because their plight and gentle demeanor had captivated my heart and I was eager to be with and care for them. I will never forget nor can I fully explain what happened on our arrival the next morning. We parked our vehicle on the top of a small hill a short distance form the village. In the (most likely) event of rain, it would not get buried in the wet, red mud.

The locals came up to help carry our numerous medical bags and soon disappeared in the bush. Suddenly, men dressed in tribal costume jumped out from the bushes with their swords and masks and began dancing and escorting us to the village. The young girls were dressed in tribal dress and singing and dancing as they ushered us in. The part that I will never forget was the music…the men in the village had constructed various sized bamboo (and some old PVC) pipes to make the most beautiful sounding instruments. The small, hand held ones were blown into like a harmonica, while the larger ones were tapped (with a flip-flop shoe or wooded discs). One man just blew into a large bamboo pipe. Collectively, it was the most stunning music I have ever heard and rates right up there with my violin music. All I can say is that I wept. Uncontrollably and for the longest time. It was so touching…

Leah said that the music had gotten into my heart. That I could play it over and over again…I say… it is music to magic to end.
It is forever engrained into my heart and soul like the men, women, and children of Verakaibikaibi. I hold them in my heart and in my prayers, longing for the next time we will be together again.