You walk out to the lounge-room and walking past is your favourite blue shirt. Yeh there’s a man inside that shirt, but you haven’t see that shirt for weeks. It fits perfectly. Goes well with your favourite pants, and occasionally you get complements on your eyes whilst wearing it. What you can’t figure out is how did your favourite shirt, end up on THAT guy.
Later on, making coffee in the kitchen you notice your well worn in flip flops on the feet of someone that isn’t you. And BAM!!! The kitchen door explodes as one of your hawaiian house mates enters, as if there were smoke machines and lights on him. “Hey you making coffee?” You slowly nod, forgetting the ramifications of that answer. “badda i like more” (can i have some). Of course he could, and he can have my favourite pants and socks.
Living with Hawaiians for 2 and a half years has taught me, that Hawaiians aren’t afraid to walk in at the perfect moment to share your food or drinks, to “borrow” (which means own unless you really want it back, in which case you have to “borrow” it back) your stuff and make you laugh a whole bunch. And in someway this can get really frustrating. Because their timing is so precise. It’s like their noses are tuned to other peoples food.
But, they are the most generous people. You walk in on them cooking “bradda i have some?” Food will be shared. if coffee is made, the left overs are offered round. I am currently wearing an old room mates pants that i “borrowed” and i skate a board given to me by a hawaiian man on his way home.
This little tid bit of communal culture is inspiring. The idea that our stuff is given to us to share. As we give away, we get given. We don’t give away to receive, but its a nice side point to generous living, right?
This isn’t Hawaiian in essence. In one sense, its an echo from the early church.
When we break bread, we share tables of food. When we share stories of God loving us…..
Why not share everything?
What is in our possession that we can not share?