But I digress…

Last cannibal post. I promise.

I just got permission to share this with you and can’t resist.

The background: My sister picked up that cannibal fork in Fiji en route to Papua New Guinea. She was going to visit my godparents who were stationed there as missionaries at the time. Both Fiji and Papua New Guinea have a history of cannibalism, so the fork was a logical souvenir.

The story: Numerous members of my family remember my godfather confessing that when relaying the parable of the loaves and the fishes to his new congregation– in Pidgin — he told them, “Jesus fed the people”. Or so he thought. Turns out he got confused and said the Pidgin equivalent of “Jesus ate the people.”

When I emailed my godfather for confirmation this was his reply:

I made so many faux pas in my first preaching of the language that I wouldn’t be surprised that I did this. All I know is that the people kept coming out more and more every Sunday to hear what “pastor Barry was going to say next.” They were always, I must say, very forgiving and understanding.

One story I can tell is that I met a man on Samari Island, Trobrian Islands, whose grandfather was a cannibal. He and others ate two missionarys. Parts of the missionarys were rather sweet but certain parts gave them a hard time and indigestion until they discovered they were trying to eat the missionary’s rubber thongs. He told us that it was a true story.

Okay, I’m never complaining about Brussels sprouts or liver again!

Photo by jurvetson, published with a Creative Commons License.