DREAM VACATION, Chapter 5

 

        "ISLAND DREAM"

                 Chapter 5

          DREAM VACATION

              Hassie Gaugau
 

(Aggie Grey's Hotel, as it was, when I arrived in 1979.)

The register was an old fashioned log book.  No request for a charge card, no demand for a deposit, just sign your name and address.

"Mrs. Lunkle," the desk clerk tried to pronounce my name.  "Welcome to Aggie's, our doorman will show you to your room."

She didn't even seem to notice my disheveled, unclean appearance.

"Mrs. Lunke, they are still serving luncheon, in the dining room.  If you'll hurry back, I'll make sure that they wait for you."

"Thank you so much." maybe she did notice something, my starved look.

The doorman, his flop flops slapping down the stairs, led the way.  We passed through a lovely open-air bar into a vivid garden.  Exotic blooms nestled among stately old palm trees.  The sidewalk wound around small enclosed versions of "fales" and passed motel type rooms on the side.

"This room, misses," the doorman opened the door and carried my bags inside.

I tried, as in Pago, to tip.

"No, no, misses, my job, thank you."

He bowed and left.  I was alone.  The room was spotless.  The shiny linoleum floor invited my miserable feet to walk naked across their coolness.  A wall mounted fan whirred silently chasing the warm stale air out the open louvered windows.  I wanted to throw myself across the bed and sleep forever, but my stomach, that had only had tea and cookies for more than two days, rebelled.  LUNCH!  They're serving lunch, GO!

There were still a few guests in the dining room.  When I entered, a handsome young man bowed and led me to a table where a few guests were still seated.  I had hardly lowered myself into the chair when other young men arrived with water, lemonade, salad, and bread.  The others, at the table, introduced themselves and I guess they noticed my startled look.

"This is the way Aggie's serves," one gentleman, with a British accent said.  "There are no menus.  The same meal is served to everyone.  You'll love it."

Right away I was besieged with platters, bowls, and trays of delicious looking food.  There was hardly time to eat because of accepting or declining the offered fare.

The diners continued to talk and even included me in the conversations.  How wonderful to be able to understand and converse in my own language.  They had already finished their meals, but out of politeness, they remained until I was ready to leave.  There was no check, the meal was included in the price of the room.

"See you at dinner.  Good day." everyone went their separate ways.

Many of them were in Samoa on work assignments, and returned to their jobs.  I seemed to be the only one going back to my room.  Once inside, I closed the colorful drapes and stripped.  In the bathroom, oversized fluffy towels waited beside the shower.  I turned on the water and tried to adjust the temperature.  Cold water, then hot, but no warm, who cared?  It was water, it was a shower.  I stepped in.  As if by magic the stream warmed and caressed by tired aching body.  Relief, but not for my tired aching mind.  Tears began to mingle with the flow, and I started to sob so hard that I could hardly breath.

"I just want to go home.  I want Don to hold me and tell me that everything will be okay.  I want to see my girls.  Why did you think that you were Nellie Forbush?  You're just a mother who has a business to run.  You're plain and ordinary.  Why don't you go home where you belong?"  Self pity consumed me.

At last I stopped the shower, dried, and wrapped myself in one of the soft pink towels.  The fan driven air tingled my body and I almost felt better, but just couldn't let go of the self pity.  I flopped across the bed and continued to cry until I fell into an exhausted sleep.

Food, clean body, and sleep, one or all three gave me the strength to try one more time.  I dressed and walked out into the glorious gardens.  The path led to an Olympic sized pool with a palm tree, on a small island, right in the middle of the pool.  An oversized fale loomed to one side.

People swam, sunned, and enjoyed drinks.  English was spoken, with different accents, and everyone seemed to be having a great time.  I even heard music coming from somewhere.

You can do this, I thought.  Don't give up a dream that you've had for so long.  Look at all the beauty around you.  Are you going to give all this up just because you ran into a few rough days?

"Eleni, Eleni," the musical notes called me to find where they came from.

I followed the sounds of singing and clapping and soon found a group of young people who appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely.  They looked at me and smiled.  Their leader, the handsome young man from the dining room, turned and introduced himself.

"Hello, Misses Lunkley, I'm Dominic.  We're rehearsing for the Fia Fia that we'll have tomorrow night."

"Fia Fia."

"Yes, in Hawaii, they say luau.  All of the staff, here at Aggie's perform.  Are you coming?"

"Of course," my mind was made up.  "Of course, I wouldn't miss it.  Go ahead, If it's okay I'd love to watch you practice."

Fia Fia, that reminded me of Fia.  I had made the right decision.  I wasn't an adventurer, I was a tourist and I was going to rejoice in every minute of it.

"Thank you for letting me stay," I told the group as they started to break up, "You're great, I'll be there tomorrow night."

Happy, revitalized and determined, I strolled back to my room, through the enchanted gardens.  Inside, I sorted through my bags and hung things in the closet.  There was a light bulb inside, not for light but to keep the moisture at bay.  Also an ironing board was attached to the wall, with a family sized iron shelved the the side.  A brochure, on the coffee table gave information about the hotel and pointed out that guests were expected to "dress for dinner."  Most of my clothes were very casual, what exactly did "dress for dinner" mean?  I took out a favorite skirt and blouse that needed the iron and ironing board, but they should fill the requirement.

Another shower was just too inviting to pass up.  Now to dry and curl my hair.  I had thought ahead and brought an electrical converter, BUT when I tried the plug, nothing fit.  Evidently this one was European, even if the box plainly stated INTERNATIONAL.  Now what?  I hung my head down to my knees and brushed upside down, then flipped back and looked into the mirror.  Amazing, who needed a dryer and curling iron anyway?

A light smattering of make-up and I was actually pleased, with what I saw, looking back at me.  Why did I feel so good about myself, all of a sudden?  What had happened to me?

I walked back up the steps and into the lobby.  There was a bulletin board propped under the staircase that led upstairs.  "Tour cocoa plantations, the house of parliament, see waterfalls, and the home of Robert Louis Stevenson.  Sign up at the front desk.  Our tour will leave promptly at 9:00 AM.

"Is this where I sign up?" I asked.

"Yes Misses Lunkley," the same desk clerk said.  "Are you feeling better now?"

She had noticed, she had known how I felt when I checked in.  "Why yes I am, thank you, ah what is your name?"

"Annie, and you're welcome."

"How much is the tour, Annie," I opened my purse, paid the nine tala (Samoan dollars) and she entered my name on the list.

As I turned from Annie, a sound that I had never heard before reached into my heart.  Just a few feet away, some of the staff that I had seen before, beat a cadence on wooden "bells" and drums.

"Those are the dinner "bells," Annie smiled and nodded toward them.

"Well, I'm ready, if it's as good as lunch, I can hardly wait."

I quickly joined the line that had formed , and we gave our room number to the young lady, at the dining room entrance.

"Misses Lunkley, just follow me," Dominic offered his arm.

I accepted his help, as he led me to a small table, occupied by a couple who had already started on their salad.

"Hello, we're the Masterson's from Australia."

"I'm glad to meet you, I'm Mildred, from America.  This is a great idea, being seated with others, don't you think?"

The parade of food started.  Between hearing about the "station" that the couple owned in the out-back, and nodding yes or no to the offered delicacies, the meal passed quickly.

"It was so nice to meet you, hope to see you again," the Mastersons noted as the left.

"Misses Lunkley," Dominic was at my side.  "Cake and coffee are being served on the veranda."

"Thank you Dominic, the meal was delicious."

I had eaten too much to even think about coffee, let alone cake, so I walked down into the gardens.  Others strolled and nodded as we met.  I was alone again, but this time I wasn't going to let it get to me.  And it didn't.  I found a comfortable wicker chair with  fluffy chincz pillows to sink into and listened to three musicians strum their guitars and ukeleles as they sang in falsetto harmony.

Soon however, the relaxation gave way to fatigue that overpowered the enjoyment and I longed for that great bed that awaited me, back in my room.  Once enclosed in my sanctuary  with all the comforts that I had been lacking for days, I marveled at the difference.  The pain and frustration of the days and nights before, the thrills and excitement of this day and night culminated into the realization that my DREAM VACATION had truly begun!