If the Hazel-Atlas jar did in fact contain freckle cream or a cosmetic skin lightener of some kind, I believe it’s time to seriously consider it was a
Kiribati woman who brought it to the island, rather than Amelia E.
It’s sad but true that Polynesian and Asian cultures value lighter skin tones over dark skin tones. And of course- unfortunately- they are not alone. For ample evidence of the wide-spread interest in ‘fair’ skin among Asians and Pacific Islanders, [and some reasons for it,] see-
http://www.city-data.com/forum/asia/1646010-why-tan-skin-not-considered-attractive-8.htmlhttp://samoanwoman.com/tag/samoan-ideas-of-beauty/Kiribati people, as it turns out, placed such a high value on light/fair skin that they confined brides-to-be in a darkened room inside of a
'ko' or
'bleaching house' for up to
eighteen months before the actual marriage ceremony, to ensure the bride was not exposed to the darkening rays of the sun. Who would argue these people would not clamor for a modern product that offered a way to speed up the ‘bleaching’ process- as freckle cream would?
Many brands of freckle cream were readily available via Australia and New Zealand in the 1930s- and even Dr. Berry’s very own concoction was exported from the USA to NZ in the early 1930’s, and perhaps later on.
The account, below, dates to the 1920s or 1930s and is from Sir Arthur Francis Grimble’s book
'Migrations, Myth and Magic from the Gilbert Islands' [published in 1972, Rosemary Grimble, editor.]
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Grimblehttp://www.janeresture.com/kculture/index.htmKey lines IMHO –
"...though the formalities of the ko have long been abandoned, many Gilbertese (Kiribati) women to this day continue to bleach themselves in private... they still attempt by artificial methods to hark back to the glorious ancestral types"------------------------------------
“…Sometimes a maid might marry within a few weeks of coming to puberty, but far more often she would pass the
next year or eighteen months in the ko, or bleaching house, where
her skin might be whitened ere she became a bride. For this purpose a small house was built at a good distance from the family settlement and generally, but not always, on the
eastern side of the island. From the eaves to the ground all round the house a screen of coconut leaf was hung; and in the interior a small cubicle of mats was rigged up on a light framework, leaving an alleyway of three or four feet clear between its sides and the outer screens. The deepest gloom reigned within this cubicle, and therein the girl must live, deprived of sunlight and unseen by the people. Only her parents and grandparents were allowed near her; her only constant companion was her adoptive grandmother, who attended to all her wants. She was allowed to wash and perform her toilet between the outer screen and the cubicle, but as soon as that was done she must retire again into the inner darkness. Thus she was obliged to live in utter manual idleness, since there was not enough light to guide her fingers at work, but to compensate for this she learned all the spells her grandmother could teach her, most of them being connected with love, healing and the culinary arts.
During this time of solitary confinement
the girl's skin was carefully attended to. Every day at sunrise her body was rubbed over with the creamy juice expressed from the flesh of ripe coconuts, and when this was dry it was washed off with fresh water. At mid-day her ablutions were made in sea water, and at sunset the cream was again applied, left to dry and washed away. In addition to this she was constantly massaged from head to heel by her grandmother, coconut oil being used as an unguent; special care was given to the moulding of her arms, shoulders and breasts so that these might appear to advantage in the sitting dance.
After a few months of such treatment, in a seclusion which no sunray ever pieced, the rich and dusky olive tint left her skin, and she became pale with the dark paleness of some Spanish lady, who never leaves her house until sunset. One still has the chance of judging what her appearance may have been because, though the formalities of the ko have long been abandoned,
many Gilbertese (Kiribati) women to this day continue to bleach themselves in private. The constant massage leaves the skin silken in texture, and the beauty of the subject, though no longer of a merry and full-blooded type, is certainly enhanced by etiolation.
To call a girl kamoa n te roki, i.e. an inhabitant of the bleaching-house (lit. contents of the screens) to this day, in allusion to the fairness of her skin, is to pay her the highest compliment, nor would it be taken amiss by a man. The whole idea underlying
the bleaching process is closely connected with a race-memory of certain ancestral gods who, like the famous Tangaroa of Polynesia, were fair of skin and of a marvellous beauty. These lived in Matang, a bourne of departed souls and one of the ancient fatherlands of the folk, and although their descendants have become dusky by intermarriage with Melanesian and [as I believe] negrito peoples,
they still attempt by artificial methods to hark back to glorious ancestral types.
When the grandmother thought that
her skin could be improved no further, the girl was conducted from the bleaching house to her home. There she was arrayed in festal ornaments and led by her mother and grandmother to a dance given in her honour, of which she was to be the central figure…”