Beyond That Horizon

Bing was a Filipino who was married to a Palauan and lived on Yap. He was a counselor in the branch presidency of our little church unit. Bing was a talented funny guy who could crack jokes without a hint of a smile. Everywhere he went, he wore dark glasses, slicked his hair back with oil, and carried a large butterfly knife. It was hilarious when he would pull it out and swing and flip it around his head to open it, all while he sat in front of the congregation during church meetings. With the blade out, he would usually pick his teeth or clean his fingernails.

One day, Bing asked us to come over and help butcher his pig. Before the work started, we all gathered around the hogtied pig and had a blessing offered by Bing. It was a prayer of thanksgiving that the pig had remained healthy and grew big so now the family could have food for a few months. I was humbled by this act of thanksgiving and it put this family’s situation in perspective as I realized they relied on nature, hard work, luck, and the hand of God for their sustenance.

As is the case for all islanders, the whole pig was saved and processed during the butchering. The only part of the pig that was scraped away and tossed out was the hair. That was our job. Buckets of boiling water were poured over the carcass and we used knives to scrape the whole pig clean of those thick, wiry bristles.

While we were doing that, Bing separated and stripped the intestines and other innards that would later be used for sausage stuffing and eating. We then cut up the pig and it was packed in salt kegs. Josie, Bing’s wife, took the head and blood in the house to make pudding and other delicacies. Later that night, we celebrated by having a feast of pit-cooked pork, blood pudding, taro, and rice.

The islanders kept reminding us that we were in for a bad typhoon season this particular year. Ken told us that our house may float away or be swept into the lagoon. I thought he was kidding, but his face showed otherwise. I had never been in a severe rain storm before and didn’t know what to expect. We had cloud bursts in Idaho, and that is all I had to relate to.

The day the storm began seemed normal enough except for dark clouds that were forming overhead. It was unusual because for nearly three months, we had been driving to the airport for our only source of water. There had been no rain in this tropical paradise. Pita seemed anxious and went outside to position the gutters angled off our tin roof. These slanted into our water drums sitting in front of our house to catch the water.

Without warning, the rain began. It was as if someone in the sky was pouring bucket after bucket of water – a major torrent. Within seconds, 18 inches of water was running as a river in front of the house, finding every conceivable path to the lagoon below as it ripped past. I was afraid to go out as I knew I would be swept off my feet. With this rain came thunder and wind – big winds that would tip you over if you didn’t have a hold of something sturdy. The house shook and quivered but held. I was happy it was built on stilts and the torrent could just run underneath and away.

“Well, I surmised, no more trips to the airport for water!”