Chapter Six: History of a Passion

  They all woke up as the temperature rose with the sunrise. Five barrels of fresh drinking water lined the one side of the boat and water for washing lined the other. Gamini breaded eggplant and browned it on a hot plate heated from a generator. It not only smelled delicious, but it tasted wonderful! Ryan had never even heard of eggplant before. Amy had heard of it, but had before never tried it because she didn’t like the way it looked. It’s funny how when you are hungry, all your past reasons for not trying something disappear.

  After breakfast, they took turns cleaning themselves up the best they could. They helped to unfold the large canopy so they would have protection from the sun and still be able to see the beauty of the islands from the water. Bill and Gamini gathered the others. They needed to talk to them about the island they were going to. The five Americans had a lot to learn before they arrived.

  Bill spoke first. He gave the history of Gamini and himself. There were so many things that fell into place. The “unusual” and the “that really should of never happened” and of course, the “what a coincidence” were constant throughout the story. However, looking back, it was God and Him working out His plan by using those willing to listen. He explained how Gamini got into construction work in Malé.

  Gamini was eighteen when he traveled to Malé with his father. They had brought coir rope and woven mats to sell at the market in the city. As they were walking, they came upon a group of people standing at the bottom of a tall structure. The closer they got, the more they could hear the people discussing treatment for the young worker who had fallen off the makeshift scaffolding. He was disorientated yet trying to plead his case to his boss that he would be fine. No one believed him. His boss made a co-worker take him to the small building down the road. It was the closest thing to a hospital the country had. As the remaining construction workers huddled together to discuss the great difficulty they were going to have continuing on with the job, Gamini overheard something that caught his interest.

  Speaking in their Dhivehi language, Gamini joined in the conversation. “I can climb this for you,” Gamini said in a voice of promise and confidence. Gamini loved to climb. It was part of his DNA. All the boys in his village climbed. “I climb and do whatever you want. I work hard for you.” The construction workers were in a bind and Gamini was very convincing.

  “Go ahead and show us how fearless you are, young man.” The boss stepped aside and pointed to the area three stories high. If Gamini wanted a job, he would need to prove his worthiness. Without effort, Gamini climbed the tall scaffolding, walked out on the support beam, and waved. The job was his.

  Gamini quickly discovered how diverse the city could be. Americans had been asked to join in the building up and modernizing of the capital Malé. Often, Gamini found himself in a situation unable to understand what he was supposed to do. He was frustrated and feared he would lose his job. The perfect timing of God stepped in one day as Gamini took some blueprints over to the medical building. He heard the doctor speaking in English to an American who needed assistance removing a splinter from under his thumbnail. After the American left, Gamini went in and introduced himself to the doctor, whose name was Jameel.

  He found out that Jameel had traveled to America in the late 1950’s. He studied hard to become a doctor in preparation to practice in Malé. Gamini saw an opportunity that would benefit both Jameel and himself. In exchange for English lessons, Gamini would put in extra hours to do much needed repairs and updates. Jameel agreed to Gamini’s offer. Through this, they become friends. Being bilingual was a big advantage to both of them.

  Gamini would have breaks to visit his family in Fuvahmulah. He married Ari and fathered two children with her. They stayed in Fuvahmulah with the rest of his family and islanders while he worked on the main island. They loved to see Gamini come back from Malé. All the village children would run to him looking for surprises he would bring to them. Gamini was one of the lucky ones who had a job off the island. His job was a means of supplying, not only his family, but the islanders of basic needs and little something’s to give the kids. The traveling was tough, but had become a way of life. Gamini was respected in his village and in Malé. He was a quick study and willing to do whatever he was asked. The traveling between the islands gave Gamini a lot of time to think. He didn’t understand how he could be as lucky as to be able to work in Malé. It wasn’t until he met Bill that he put the pieces of fate versus God’s will in order.

  Bill was an engineer for the United States of America who had been asked to help in the process of developing the island. He prayed about this opportunity and the answer came easy. The people of Maldives were mysterious and little was known about their history. He didn’t know why, but he did feel that God was calling him. He accepted the job and worked hard to establish relationships with the people he was working with in Malé. He spent months trying to break through and make contacts. In his heart, he knew he was supposed to be there. He didn’t have any connections until he met Gamini.

  Gamini was a sponge of sorts. He was everywhere and open to learning and trying new things. The instant Bill met him, he knew Gamini would be his connection. They became good friends and shared a lot about the customs of their homelands. Gamini was amazed at the stories of technology and freedoms. Gamini took Bill to Fuvahmulah to see his island and meet his people. Because Bill cared for his people, Gamini trusted him. Gradually Bill introduced his relationship with God to Gamini. At first he was being a friendly listener, but as Bill shared in love the freedom of having a relationship with God, he started longing for the same closeness with the God that Bill loved.

  Bill’s contract to the islands was for two years, from 1965 to1967. During those years, he fell in love with the islands and its people. They were close knit families that took care of each other. They had poor health care and lost many babies and mothers during childbirth. There were not any schools with chalkboards and books on many of the islands. They were decades behind in their education, medical successes and technology.

  When Bill’s contract work was completed, he promised Gamini he would find a way back. Saying good-bye was heartbreaking. Bill had helped birth a love between God and Gamini. He wanted to share so much more than his experience, he wanted to share God’s word. There was one very major problem with his want. Maldives is one of only a few countries in the world where only one faith can be practiced publicly. Maldives is the only nation which legally tells you that you must practice not only Islam, but the specific government version of Sunni Islam. Anyone not practicing the Islamic religion was considered a sinner and unable to own land, be a citizen or participate in any functions privileged to citizens. Anyone caught practicing or under the suspicion of practicing anything other than Islamic religion can be reported to the government and imprisoned for three to five years, deported, fined or can simply disappear. The cost was high.

  Gamini knew the risk he was taking, but he agreed to the challenge. Therefore, with nothing more than trust in God, the two said good-bye believing that they would soon be reunited. Bill came to the island an engineer and would return a man on a mission.

  When Bill arrived back to the States, he opened his own engineering company. Only doors that God had the power to open led the way. He had government clearance so he was allowed to bid on out of country contracts. He worked tirelessly on bids to design anything that had to do with Maldives. Any extra money he received, he put back for another trip to the islands. He hired two partners, who were made aware of his plans. Bill offered them steady work, but they had to keep the office running in his absence. The partners were Christians; they could plainly see Bill’s passion for Maldives. It was so radiant his partners soon shared his vision. Bill spent the first four months of 1968 building his business. He under-bid every offer going to Maldives in order to secure a contract, the more he sacrificed for Maldives, the more
successful his company became. It was that spring that Bill set out to find volunteers to go with him back to Maldives.

  He prayed for hard working, loving and accepting people. They had to be willing to take some risks. God gave him Ryan, Amy, Mark, and Wayne. He thought there would be more willing to come with him, but Bill had to trust that God knew what He was doing.

  When Gamini spoke, it was all to the point. “Maldives will soon be a Republic. We are not under the British monarchy anymore. My country is changing. Religion is the law. It is true, what you call radical religion. We have no freedoms of worship. We do as we are told or suffer according to the government interpretation of the Islam’s law.

  “We are going to Fuvahmulah. It is the closest island to the equator and the furthest from Malé. It is where I was born.” Gamini paused, his face sullen. Everyone waited; they could feel the heaviness of Gamini’s heart. “My island has been a hidden treasure. We have beauty beaches and pools of freshwater. We are poor, but self-sufficient. Soon, the Republic will be doing more to make Fuvahmulah accessible. They make promise of medical and education. They say change be good for us, but they no tell truth.” Gamini’s facial expression said as much as his words.

  “They rumors, great talk of good life. I work in Malé and I hear so much talk all time. Recent I hear about the Island of Giraavaru. It is eleven km from airport. Governments force everyone from island. It is home to no one now. The island suffered erosion and had too many women for Islamic laws to be fulfilled. The Government say not enough men for Friday Islamic prayer. There is so much… I hear they bring large buildings onto island so foreigners visit. They are, um…” he struggled, trying to find the right English word.

  “Hotels,” Amy offered as a help.

  “Yes, hotels they call them. All words are hush-hush to the islands. This will be a sad time for my people. I am afraid this will mean I will not see you more after this mission.” Gamini’s voice had changed. He was excited to see them at the airport, now he was solemn like he was already grieving their departure. He understood what changes were coming more than anyone, with the exception of Bill.

  “I explain little to my people. They no know what evil truth is under promises of the Republic.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead and paused as if trying to find a way to tell a secret. “Friends, I am marked. The Republic has eyes to me. My family and I are in future danger. Today at the airport, you have troubles because you with me and you Americans. Be careful. My God is only protection. A time comes when I deny Christ or die.” His voice trailed off as the captain of the boat walked through the middle of their circle. It was noticeable to all of them how Gamini stopped his conversation. “My friends, I will never bow.” He didn’t need to say more. Since Gamini started a relationship with God, he has been under suspicion for not participating in Islamic prayer. He never denied Allah, but a time of confession was inevitable.

  Mark and Wayne finally spoke up. Come to find out, they were very good actors. Mark spoke first, explaining how his father had been a missionary many years ago to China. Travel was hard there and the danger of being a Christian in China was just as dangerous then as it is now. Wayne added that Bill was a good friend of their dad and that is why they agreed to do this mission. “Our dad always said that one mission trip would open your eyes for a lifetime.” Wayne looked around for the captain. He didn’t see him at first, but when he spotted him at the stern of the boat, he drew everyone in close and whispered, “Dad said Mark and I have the important information.”

  “What is that?” asked Ryan.

  “Shush, please, not a good time to talk,” Bill whispered.

  “We are carrying something illegal into another country. These people are being lied to and we do nothing!” Amy’s frustration rang out even through gritted teeth. “Shouldn’t you warn them?” Amy’s concerned voice had carried further than she thought. The captain turned to see the commotion. Amy stood up to look over the boat’s edge. Ryan stood up and came alongside her for support.

  “This isn’t fair, Ryan!” Amy trembled, partly in fear, partly in anger.

  “I know Amy. But with the time we have here and now, let’s do our best to love these people and give them hope.” Amy’s hand was white knuckled grabbing tightly to the rail. The waters were calm; it was her emotions that raged causing her to feel the need to hang on. Ryan gently reached over and put his hand on top of hers. His strong hand covered hers and for a moment he was able to comfort her troubled heart.

  Gamini set the rules for the missionary group. There should be no talk of God until they reach his village. The people of the archipelago understood works. They were thrilled to have people of knowledge come to help them build facilities. The ministry of works is what the people accepted as love and favor. They were intelligent and eager to learn. “Work hard and they will respect you,” were the words of wisdom from Gamini.

  At 6:00 in the evening, exactly fifty-eight hours from the time they left Cincinnati’s airport, they docked at Fuvahmulah. Awaiting them on the shore wasn’t a nice air conditioned vehicle, but six bikes with big baskets attached to the back fender area. “Oh no, you are kidding me again, right?”

  “Sure is Mark,” chimed in Amy sarcastically.

  “Don’t panic Mark. It is only a twelve-hour bike ride from here.” The brother’s eyes grew as big as the pineapples they enjoyed earlier. Gamini could not keep a straight face and gave up Bill as a tease.

  “No, no brothers, it only five hundred peddles to village. If you slow peddle it take an hour, if you peddle with desire, half that time.” The brothers were gullible. Amy and Ryan tried not to laugh. They hadn’t said so, but it was evident they wanted to remain neutral in the bantering.

  Even though they were all tired from jet lag, the bike ride to the village seem to invigorate them physically, giving them back the energy they had lost sitting still for so long. There were no paved roads, only beaten down paths, which seemed only appropriate for the island.