Letters from Blackwell Island Pt. 03

"This thing was a proper barn find," Chas informed us proudly as he posed beside the little open topped roadster. "I know purists would recoil in horror at it being converted to battery power, but the engine, or rather what was left of it, had completely seized anyway, so converting it to run on electricity wasn't really an issue."

Meeting Chas had been good for Patrick especially - they clearly got on well together right from the start, and as we parted ways later that afternoon they'd already arranged to meet up in Malmesbury one evening for drinks and a few rounds of darts.

As for me, I found that I got on with Ailani, Chas's wife, very well indeed. In fact, as the our two men bonded over their love of classic cars (Patrick's dream is to one day own a Triumph TR6), Ailani and I discovered a mutual love of poetry, and she'd invited me to join her ladies poetry night held once a month in a cosy little back room at the local pub.

But there were two more men to interview, so as we bade Chas and Ailani goodbye we hustled off to the next interviewee.

* * * * * *

We met Taulia Mahelona at one of the island's more recent initiatives - the Malmesbury Men's Shed, part of the growing Men's Sheds movement that had gathered momentum over the past few years in other parts of the world. It served as a male equivalent to the island's already well established Women's Institute, providing an environment for men of all ages (though most of the members were aged fifty and above) to interact and socialise in a friendly environment whilst teaching practical skills to each other and doing good deeds in the community -- I mean, what's not to like about that, huh? And if you ask me, working together to build and make stuff is definitely a more worthwhile endeavour for men than sitting around in the pub! And then of course there were the obvious mental health benefits. Yes, already I could feel another future article taking shape in my head!

Unlike Chas, Taulia was a native Pã'ele tribesman through and through, and very proud of his native heritage. He even "dressed" smartly for the occasion too, sporting a sparkling gold and amber Kani around his penis and testicles - definitely a fine example of Mrs. Laukea's work.

"We work on many projects around the island," Taulia said with evident pride as he showed us around the workshop where many of the island's elder men worked in various practical skills such as woodworking, metalworking, model making and several other hobby activities. The whole point of the place was to give men a place where they could socialise away from women, provide emotional support for each other in a distinctly fraternal environment, all whilst doing good work for the community as a whole.

"Take this for example," he went on, showing me a series of photos that showed a group of men, all of them naked apart from various items of PPE (that's personal protective equipment, for all you non construction and engineering folk out there) working on erecting some kind of small building.

"A brand new community reading room for Nãhala. We designed and prefabricated the framework here at the workshop and then assembled it all on site in only two days - definitely one of our best projects."

Nãhala was one of the small outlying settlements - not much more than a small fishing community on the island's east coast - and its new reading room was a small sub-branch of the island's main library in Malmesbury. It was definitely a useful addition for Nãhala's residents, enabling them to borrow books and DVD's without having to go into Malmesbury itself.

"I'm pleased to see that safety is still important," I said, pointing out the safety gear the men in the pictures were wearing.

"Safety equipment is very important, yes!" Taulia chuckled. "Especially here in the workshop - none of us want to end up being accidentally circumcised or castrated or something!"

I had to chuckle at that, but Patrick definitely didn't find it amusing in the slightest.

"So what's it like for men like you who have grown up here in the island?" I asked him, mainly to get away from accidental genital mutilation and back to the main point of the interview.

"Well, it's all I've ever known," he answered with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Same for all the rest of us who were born here. Living in a matriarchy is just normal to us - we don't feel second-class or anything like that, but we're all very well aware of our place in society."

"Have things changed during your lifetime?" I continued. "Or are things pretty much the same nowadays as they were when you were young?"

"There have been some changes," Taulia answered thoughtfully. "Back when I was at school the girls were taught more academic subjects -- beyond reading and writing, us boys were only taught mainly homemaking and practical skills. After all, we were all expected to follow in our own father's footsteps and keep the house running and learn a trade. Nowadays the boys and girls are taught the same stuff - girls now learn practical skills alongside the boys, and likewise the boys now learn maths and science and technology alongside the girls.

"Some things haven't changed however - boys are still expected to work in the more physical fields and follow in their father's footsteps, and to be married off to a young woman of their mother's choosing. And while young women are encouraged to pursue a career, young men are still considered more suited to a supporting role, as a househusband or stay at home father. It's the way things always have been here for over a thousand years, and probably will still be for many years to come."

"How about yourself, Taulia?" I asked him. "What's your life like here?"

"In all honesty, I love it," he replied with a genuine smile. "I'm happily married to a wonderful wife, we have three fantastic children, all of whom have gone on to marry and start families of their own - I don't feel as though I've missed out on anything just because I wasn't taught the things my wife and children were taught at school.

"Take Shakespeare for example, whilst we boys were learning woodwork and basket weaving and stuff, the girls were learning Shakespeare, and Keika, my good lady wife, found it to be the most tedium inducing thing in the world. She still finds it boring even today.

"But for me, having not been subjected to it at school, I've come to appreciate the works of the Bard through more mature adult eyes. I absolutely love Shakespeare, so much so that a few years ago I joined the local amateur dramatics society, and last year I played the role of Falstaff in our production of Henry IV."

Of course, he couldn't resist reciting one of his favourite lines from the play.

"Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us that are squires of the night's body be called thieves of the day's beauty. Let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon, and let men say we be men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal."

I knew that particular passage quite well - unlike Taulia's wife and her bored classmates I absolutely adored Shakespeare's plays, with the histories being my absolute favourites, so I couldn't resist responding with a quote of my own from my favourite character, the formidable inn-keeping battleaxe Mistress Nell Quickly, putting on my best Julie Walters voice - her portrayal of Mistress Quickly in the BBC's "The Hollow Crown" production being my all-time favourite portrayal of the character.

"Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John, for your diet and by-drinking, and money lent you, four and twenty pound!"

Taulia grinned broadly, and for a few minutes we traded lines of dialogue between the two characters, whilst Patrick simply stood and watched us with a slight smirk on his face.

"God-a-mercy! So should I be sure to be heart-burned. How now, Dame Partlet the hen? Have you inquired yet who picked my pocket?" Taulia went on as the bawdy old John Falstaff.

"Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? Do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched, I have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant. The tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before!" I answered back sharply as Mistress Quickly, and we both roared with laughter.

"You should definitely audition to join the company!" Taulia chuckled. "You'd be an absolutely brilliant addition to the cast of our next production. We'd definitely love to have you on board!"

"So, you people perform plays in the nude too?" Patrick asked.

"Of course!" Taulia chuckled. "It definitely helps to keep production costs down, not having to factor costumes into the budget!"

Naked Shakespeare -- what an experience that must be!

"Could you tell me about how you'd find life out there away from Blackwell Island?" I asked him. "Where you'd be in a more male-focused society?"

"I couldn't possibly tell you, my dear," he chuckled amiably. "These feet have never set foot off of this island! This place is all I've ever known. I mean, sure I've seen what the outside world is like, on TV and in moves and suchlike, but I've never really had a desire to leave our shores and explore the world. I grew up in our matriarchy, I got married and raised kids here, I've retired here, and I intend to spend the rest of my days here, however many gracious Haumea will grant me."

And so our interview went on, and I was treated to more and more insights into life on Blackwell Island from the male point of view. Once we'd finished, Patrick once again took a series of photographs, getting Taulia to pose proudly beside a model ship that he'd made, with some of the shed's other members behind him working on their own projects and sharing in some amiable banter. I have to say that I found the whole idea of Men's Sheds to be a wonderful idea, and long may they continue.

There was one more interview to go before our day's work would be done, and so it was off to visit Jayden, who lived with his mother on a smallholding a few miles away in the remotest corner of the island. I was expecting my third and final interview to go pretty much the same as the first two, however as it turned out, both Patrick and I were in for a shock, which would end up having serious consequences.

* * * * * *

The first thing that surprised me about Jayden Svensson, apart from his handsome Nordic looks, was the blue and yellow Kani he wore - the colours of the Swedish flag. All three factors - his last name, his blonde haired and blue-eyed looks, and the national colours on his Kani meant that it wasn't very difficult to surmise where his ancestors hailed from. As it turned out, his mother's family had indeed emigrated to Blackwell from Sweden in the 1930's, making the gorgeously handsome young man a third generation islander.

He was twenty years old and single (he still sported a full bush of coarse pubic hair - the symbol of unmarried status on the island), and he looked to me like a younger version of one of the guys from ABBA (though I can never remember which one is Bjorn and which is Benny!) The other thing that surprised me about him, was how much different his perspective of life on Blackwell Island was to the other two men I'd spoken with.

"This place is a matriarchal hellhole!" he griped. "The day I escape from this god-forsaken rock can't come soon enough!"

"Surely it can't be that bad," I responded. "I mean, the other men I've spoken with..."

"I don't give a damn what they say!" Jayden interrupted harshly. "They're all slaves, they just can't see it yet! Slaves of matriarchal oppression!"

Well, to say that it wasn't what I'd been expecting to hear would be an understatement! But in an odd kind of way it also wasn't perhaps as unexpected as I thought. There were plenty of young women his age out there in the outside world away from Blackwell Island whose view of life was the exact opposite, and that they saw themselves and other women as slaves under a system of patriarchal oppression. So rather than find his view somewhat disparaging, I actually found it quite interesting.

As I delved deeper and pressed him for more it turned out that his indomitable mother had a potential wife already lined up for him. But his betrothed was not an attractive young island maiden, it was in fact a friend of hers, a woman more than twenty years his senior. And he'd also been informed by her, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't to have any say in the matter. This would be no arranged marriage - it would be nothing less than a forced marriage! No wonder the poor lad was feeling angry! I certainly would have felt the same if I were in his position. I wondered what could be done to help him - I knew now that this wasn't a case of him agreeing to be interviewed for my article, it was a cry for help to escape his situation.

"Have you spoken to anyone about this?" I asked him in as comforting a tone as I could muster. "You can't be forced into marriage against your will - it's illegal here, at least as far as I know. Would you like me to speak to someone for you?"

Tears ran down his cheeks.

"I... can't," he sniffled. "Mother will kill me - she promised me to her friend."

"Holy feckin' Christ!" Patrick muttered.

Hearing my husband taking the Lord's name in vain like that told me all I needed to know about his thoughts on the matter. I left things there, and told Jayden we'd do whatever we could to help him, and immediately we went to find our friend Sergeant Bakeland down at the police station in Malmesbury.

* * * * * *

"Ah, the formidable Greta Svensson strikes again," Jenni Bakeland groaned in her normally sunny Aussie accent. "Yeah, she's got previous, as they say."

"You mean, she's done this before?" I gasped. "Married one of her sons off to some wizened old battleaxe?"

"About nine years ago," Jenni replied. "Her eldest, Andre. She'd promised him as a husband for one of her neighbours - a woman fifteen years older than him! And it went ahead too, poor kid - he'd only just turned eighteen at the time."

"I thought forced marriage was illegal here," l said.

"It is," Jenni responded. "Very illegal, in fact. But when we talked to Andre about it he insisted that he wasn't being forced. We reckon his mother threatened him somehow, but of course there was no way to prove anything."

"Is he still here?" on the island, I mean?"

"Oh, he's still here all right," Jenni answered. "But don't go feeling too sorry for him!"

"How come?" Patrick asked her.

"Well, to cut a long story short, the woman his mother chose to marry him off to was a bit of a two-timing bitch to tell you the truth! She'd been fucking other young men behind his back right from day one! She would hang around the harbour waiting for tourists to disembark off the cruise ships, snag herself a gullible young guy, sneak him away into one of the red zones and take him for a quick bit of outdoor nookie!

"The Pã'ele folk may not be bashful when it comes to having sex outdoors, but one thing they most definitely do not approve of is infidelity! Marriage vows are very sacred here! Sex outside of marriage is acceptable, but only in certain circumstances where it's not behind anyone's back. So when it all came to light that she'd been screwing young men behind his back he divorced her fat two-timing ass! And landed himself half her assets and her house in the divorce settlement!

"And she has to pay him alimony too. You see, in contrast to the outside world, divorce settlements here usually favour the man rather than the woman! So nowadays Andre lives in her old house with his new partner, whilst she lives alone in a poky little room above a shop in town.

"As for poor Jayden, I shall see what I can do. One thing I can assure you, now that you've brought this to our attention, is that he definitely won't be being forced into anything with anyone. And you have my solemn word on that."

It was quite a sour note to leave the interviews on, but I knew that we'd done the right thing. Arranged marriages are fine in principle, as long as either party can back out of it, but forcing someone to marry against their will is another matter altogether. I hoped that Jayden would be taken out from what was clearly a very toxic household environment indeed.

* * * * * *

As I write this, I'm pleased to report a happy outcome for young Jayden Svensson - the day after we reported his situation to the police, and the forced marriage was officially brought out into the open, Jayden managed to escape the clutches of his overbearing mother and went to stay with his older brother. As for Mrs. Svensson, although no criminal charges could be brought because the forced marriage itself never went ahead, she was served with a restraining order, preventing her from contacting either of her sons without supervision.

A week or so later we returned to visit Jayden at his brother's place, and much to our relief he was in a much better place emotionally now that he wasn't living under the cloud of being forcibly married off. He still didn't regard the island's matriarchal culture with any fondness whatsoever, and it was still his ambition to move away from the place at the earliest opportunity, but at least he was now in control of his own destiny. I asked him if I could include what happened to him in my article, which after some careful consideration he consented to.

In the end however, I decided that it wasn't really suitable for the normal Letters From Blackwell Island, but instead proposed Jayden's story to Mags and Carole back in London as a basis for a stand-alone article about the often under-reported aspect of forced marriage where it is the groom who is being forced into marriage rather than the bride. They both thought that it would be of interest to the readers of Estelle Magazine, and agreed to publish it alongside the normal edition of my column.

Niamh

"Allie!" Patrick called out from the bedroom.

It sounded urgent, so I turned away from writing up my latest article and went and joined him. He was sat on the bed, his tablet before him with the email app open.

"What's up, hon?" I asked him.

"My sister says she wants to come and visit us," he said, half groaning.

"Which one? Sorcha? Niamh? Roisin?" I responded for clarification.

"Niamh," he confirmed, with a deep and rather theatrical sigh. "I... I can't let her come here," he went on, sounding mildly panicked. "I don't wanna let her... y'know, see me... like... like this!"

He waved his hands over his naked body. Clearly, I had some work to do.

"So? You'll be seeing her naked in return," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I don't want to see her in the nip," he retorted. "Me own sister in the nude? Eww!"

Ah, of course - I guess if I were in his position I would be able to sympathise! I probably wouldn't want my brother seeing me "in the nip" as Patrick endearingly refers to being in a state of nudity. But then, I was an only child so feeling sympathetic was rather academic. So it fell to me to instead be a voice of reason. He may not have wanted Niamh to come and stay with us, but in contrast I was keen for her to come. As I said before, I love Patrick's family, not having a particularly large family of my own, and any chance to get together with his side is something I always look forward to.

"Look, I know it'd be a bit awkward at first, but you can't forbid her from coming here," I tried to placate him. "I mean, you know how it was for us when we first came here, and how quickly we both adjusted to other people seeing us naked. I'm sure once she arrives here you'll get over any awkwardness pretty quickly. And, you do love your sister, don't you?"