Everyone on this small Christian island is forced to observe the sabbath and practice Christian island dress standards. Kind of. At first, it bothered me that a decision for the people, both visitors and islanders had already been made.
On Sunday, no whale swimming allowed. When visiting the village, no shorts or sleeveless clothing. One of our fellow travelers thought the kitchen would be closed too and that we’d have to make sandwiches.
But then, it’s their island. They can run it the way they want to, and if I am their guest, I should be honored to comply with their standards. It’s fair.
I have standards in my own home too. People can dress how they want, but I wouldn’t want guests bringing alcohol, playing hard rock music, and jumping into the pool from the second deck. Which by the way, has been done, and I was not happy.
Once while away, two of my daughter’s friends (found out and confessed), came and drank beer on our deck. We only knew because they left the beer behind. I laughed and used the beer to catch slugs in the garden.
On the island, no one monitors our Sabbath observance.
In addition to their island, their rules, I realized by shutting down on the sabbath, they were protecting their people—giving them a day off during a steady stream of tourists. Good for them.
And then, on the actual slow-down Sunday, everyone’s comments and conversations revolved around how nice it was to have a day of rest. How grateful I was to not be whale chasing wet and in the wind.
Humankind needs a day off. How wise our creator was to demand that the seventh day was a day of rest, not to punish us but to rejuvenate and allows us to recapture the importance of life.
And the whales. Today after watching a whale who was about 300 meters off the shore, I’m convinced the break is for them too. There are a multitude of regulations that protect the whales, but watching the whale breach thirty-five times in a row, made me think he needed a break too. Thirty-five breaches is a happy dance indeed.
Comments