I gave a term's notice for resigning from one school. I wrote leave without pay letters for the other two schools I am teaching at and have now spend a couple of weeks responding to concerned enquiries.
'What's happening in Fiji?' ( as if I am a mind reader)
"Are you still going?'
'Yes'
Its been really tiring, frustrating and difficult. I have had problems ringing Fiji to find things out from Chita. I have decided not to read the paper daily,because as the Women's group of Fiji states 'Its still just a War of Words!'
Commodore Bainimarama makes his demands and then flies to New Zealand for his grand daughter's Christening. Yesterday he threatened a coup at midday and instead postponed it to Monday and went to a Police rugby match....
On the Coral Coast where Chita is, daily life is unfolding pretty much the way it always has. Over the weekend,on the one and only coastal road - The Queen's road- army reserves were called to barracks in Suva. Chita was concerned to be seeing military uniforms and the word is out that Franky is determined to oust the current government, get rid of the Australian High Commissioner and get the country back on track. The actions of a potential dictator I would have thought rather than the actions of a military leader who respects democratic rights.
I laughed when I read that only 1000 armreserves turned up in Suva, out of a potential 3000. Maybe there was a family reunion, a grog party or the lack of inclination to even get dressed and go to Suva.
I have gone through fear, anxiety and frustration over the last two weeks, but I am still positive. Fiji has been booming in the last two years, I have seen resorts popping up everywhere. I think the coup will give Chita and me time to get the bar open, build the brick oven, and get business happening. If we can make money in a coup we will be booming when it is all over. I also think that tourism has been happening in a way, where decisions are not well thought out and have taken advantage of the landowners, so slowing things down will be good for the country. However, the job losses will affect the Fijians straight away, and the effect of loss of income will have serious impact over the next six months.
I am busy cleaning up my life. I got rid of stuff I had in storage in Perth for eight years!!! I went over for a weekend, caught up with friends, looked through all my stuff and discovered that the only things worth keeping were my diaries. Snapshots of my travelling life. I have cleaned out my wardrobe, am still cleaning up the paperwork, cleaning out my office. Paper is an integral part of my life and I seem to like to keep it ALL, just in case. I blame my mother who kept gainfully occupied as a baby, tearing up newspaper and as an adult I just love to have lots of it around.
Chita keeps texting.
Hello Amanda, how r u?
We have coup in Fiji!
I have reassured him that Plan A, is I am coming on January 9th, and Plan
B is I will come when the all clear has sounded.
One teacher has already asked me if I wanted my language teaching job back. I have made my mind up. I know what I want. I am going to a warmer climate, l will be working on a business which I know will work, with the help and support of my beloved.
In Italian we say'chi dorme non prende il pesce'. If you sleep you won't catch the fish!
Friday, December 01, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
The Kiss
Okay, okay! How did we connect?
As I was walking back to the taxi taking us back to our hotel,that day of the lovo lunch, Chita whispered to Jen 'How old is Amanda?
He obviously liked what he heard and calls out 'So how many children would you like Amanda?'
'At least five' was my instant reply.
He calls out ' So do you want to come down the beach and check out the Coral reef project I am working on?
'Sure, see you around ten?'
'No problem. Moce'
Jen starts ribbing me in the back of the taxi.
He really liked you.
No he did not.
Oh yes he did.
The next day I wake up and get ready. Jen waves from the poolside bar in bikinis, soaking up the sun, regaling an audience with 'You know what he said to her yesterday? No. The better half of a man is a woman.
Really. Yes really.
I walk down the beach to the village again. No one is around. I walk past a house and call out 'Hey its me!' and then I suddenly realise that I have no idea where he lives.
Sammy (Fijian Marlon Brandoesque) comes to the door and invites me to sit down in his house and offers me a drink of water.
I wait.
It is only now I realise what time means to a Fijian. Whenever we see each other that is the right time. It could be an hour, a day, a week, a month or a year later!
I am starting to wonder whether I have done the right thing when Abo appears at the door saying'Amanda, come on. we go!'
'Where's Chita?'
'He's coming!'
We sit on the sand. Abo cuts down some coconuts and we wait.
Can you sing Amanda?
Yes.
Sing for me.
Okay. I belt out a rendition of Anastacia's 'I'm out of love'.
As I finish and turn my head to look down the beach, who should I see loping towards us. He has a bare torso. A pair of filthy jeans hanging off his slim frame. I am mesmerized.
A big smile.
Bula Amanda.
Bula.
He takes my hand and guides me along overgrown paths where no evil insects lie in wait, describing his dream to me. His voice is quiet and low and because he is so tall, I just nod in agreement, not having a bloody clue what he is saying.
The sand is pristine white with clear turquoise waters lapping at its edge. Tiny shells hiding hermit crabs, move along the beach and crushed up coral remains litter the beach.
I am in heaven.
He pulls out a huge machete and carefully cuts a hole in the green coconuts.
Please drink.
I let the coconut juice dribble down my chin.
He holds up some concrete cones and like a magician pulls putty out of his pocket. He mixes the two parts together and then wedges a piece into the cone.
'I am going to write your name in coral
Miss Amanda Sutton across this reef'.
He breaks off some small pieces of pink coral and places it in the cone.
'I need to swim out and put these babies on the rack. Abo will take you on a snorkelling tour and bring you to the rack'.
I grab my flippers, and mask and wade into the water. Abo takes my hand and we begin our underwater adventure. The lagoon is full of life. As this is a marine protected area, we are surrounded by fish. Nemos are everywhere. We swim over sea slugs, stop to watch baby fish swimming in and out of the coral, and avoid touching the fire coral. Abo explains it all to me, very clearly and I feel completely safe.
At the rack, Chita tells me to look. I plunge my head underwater to witness a sea garden full of cones of brightly coloured coral sitting on metal racks and a school of brilliant blue fish feeding off the algae formed on the concrete cones.
I am overwhelmed. I did not realise it would be so beautiful.
He gives me a hug. I turn around and see Abo has swum back to shore.
He has delivered me to the chief.
We talk, laugh and then swim back to shore. In the shallows, he offers to show me a trick.
I can take off your flippers without you moving off my lap.
Okay, try me.
It works. I lift my toe up only to see a sea slug wrapped around it and I collapse backwards into the water. I had spent the last hour or so carefully avoiding them
We laugh. He pulls me onto his lap again and kisses me.
An unexpected surprise.
As I was walking back to the taxi taking us back to our hotel,that day of the lovo lunch, Chita whispered to Jen 'How old is Amanda?
He obviously liked what he heard and calls out 'So how many children would you like Amanda?'
'At least five' was my instant reply.
He calls out ' So do you want to come down the beach and check out the Coral reef project I am working on?
'Sure, see you around ten?'
'No problem. Moce'
Jen starts ribbing me in the back of the taxi.
He really liked you.
No he did not.
Oh yes he did.
The next day I wake up and get ready. Jen waves from the poolside bar in bikinis, soaking up the sun, regaling an audience with 'You know what he said to her yesterday? No. The better half of a man is a woman.
Really. Yes really.
I walk down the beach to the village again. No one is around. I walk past a house and call out 'Hey its me!' and then I suddenly realise that I have no idea where he lives.
Sammy (Fijian Marlon Brandoesque) comes to the door and invites me to sit down in his house and offers me a drink of water.
I wait.
It is only now I realise what time means to a Fijian. Whenever we see each other that is the right time. It could be an hour, a day, a week, a month or a year later!
I am starting to wonder whether I have done the right thing when Abo appears at the door saying'Amanda, come on. we go!'
'Where's Chita?'
'He's coming!'
We sit on the sand. Abo cuts down some coconuts and we wait.
Can you sing Amanda?
Yes.
Sing for me.
Okay. I belt out a rendition of Anastacia's 'I'm out of love'.
As I finish and turn my head to look down the beach, who should I see loping towards us. He has a bare torso. A pair of filthy jeans hanging off his slim frame. I am mesmerized.
A big smile.
Bula Amanda.
Bula.
He takes my hand and guides me along overgrown paths where no evil insects lie in wait, describing his dream to me. His voice is quiet and low and because he is so tall, I just nod in agreement, not having a bloody clue what he is saying.
The sand is pristine white with clear turquoise waters lapping at its edge. Tiny shells hiding hermit crabs, move along the beach and crushed up coral remains litter the beach.
I am in heaven.
He pulls out a huge machete and carefully cuts a hole in the green coconuts.
Please drink.
I let the coconut juice dribble down my chin.
He holds up some concrete cones and like a magician pulls putty out of his pocket. He mixes the two parts together and then wedges a piece into the cone.
'I am going to write your name in coral
Miss Amanda Sutton across this reef'.
He breaks off some small pieces of pink coral and places it in the cone.
'I need to swim out and put these babies on the rack. Abo will take you on a snorkelling tour and bring you to the rack'.
I grab my flippers, and mask and wade into the water. Abo takes my hand and we begin our underwater adventure. The lagoon is full of life. As this is a marine protected area, we are surrounded by fish. Nemos are everywhere. We swim over sea slugs, stop to watch baby fish swimming in and out of the coral, and avoid touching the fire coral. Abo explains it all to me, very clearly and I feel completely safe.
At the rack, Chita tells me to look. I plunge my head underwater to witness a sea garden full of cones of brightly coloured coral sitting on metal racks and a school of brilliant blue fish feeding off the algae formed on the concrete cones.
I am overwhelmed. I did not realise it would be so beautiful.
He gives me a hug. I turn around and see Abo has swum back to shore.
He has delivered me to the chief.
We talk, laugh and then swim back to shore. In the shallows, he offers to show me a trick.
I can take off your flippers without you moving off my lap.
Okay, try me.
It works. I lift my toe up only to see a sea slug wrapped around it and I collapse backwards into the water. I had spent the last hour or so carefully avoiding them
We laugh. He pulls me onto his lap again and kisses me.
An unexpected surprise.
Monday, October 09, 2006
I'm Going!
Decisions! Decisions! Decisions. After meeting the love of my life eighteen months a go, its been a roller coaster ride as we figure out how we are going to make a life together.
How did I fall?
An invite to Fiji to forget some legal problems which were ripping me apart and I found myself asleep on a sunbed beside a pool at the Warwick Hotel while my friend Jen had fast trakked herself down the beach to organise a cooking session for me with a local Fijian Family.
I woke up to find her holding a pina colada saying' Come and meet the Fijian lady you are going to cook with next Sunday! I staggered down the beach to meet Sugu, a large generous Fijian with big smile and a hug, saying 'So you want to learn how to cook a lovo, Amanda'.
Four days later I wake up in our air conditioned room to discover that it is only me, who is going to hoist herself out of bed early to catch a taxi down to the village to cook.
'Darling, I need some time by the pool. I will come and meet you at lunch time.'
I arrived at the village to see a group of smiling children waving and calling out 'Amanda, Amanda, come with us'.
I walked up the hill behind their nimble feet, trying to avoid tree roots and vines and slippery mud. A Fijian version of a young Marlon Brando revealing pearly white teeth calls out 'Bula! Amanda! '
I turn around to be introduced to the whole family. A young guy called Abo, grabs my arm and pulls me into the kitchen.
'While the lovo is being prepared, you can help me cook the fish I caught for you this morning.' Abo has spent some time learning the carpentry trade in Melbourne so his reassuringly Aussie vowels, help me orientate myself in this unfamiliar setting.
'What are you going to do to the fish, chef?' he calls out.
" Garlic, lime and ginger I think' is my reply.
'Hey that's what we would do, are you sure you are not really Fijian'.
His friendly smile and quirky sense of humour help me relax.
I go outside to watch the boys scrape coconuts for the polisami - wrapped taro leaf parcels filled with roasted coconut and coconut milk.
Another Fijian guy appears in a bright green and yellow tropical shirt and sits down beside me. He introduces himself as Chita in a mesmerizing soft voice.
We talk. I discover that he has had a dream for five year to open a bar on the beach. I have come to Fiji to forget about ungrateful and selfish guests, and have been searching my brain for a worthwhile food and wine project to pour my energies into. Maybe this is it.
Jen arrives late, and we are invited into the house. A long cloth has been placed down the centre of the room and we are invited to sit on either side of it. Dishes are laid out and plates marking spots for eaters are evident. I have difficulty sitting cross legged due to a car accident, so I orchestrate my back against a side board only to have Chita whisper
'Amanda, come here by me. You can lie down and eat in Fiji'.
We eat, laugh, talk and I find myself enjoying the company of this gentle Fijian man.
How did I fall?
An invite to Fiji to forget some legal problems which were ripping me apart and I found myself asleep on a sunbed beside a pool at the Warwick Hotel while my friend Jen had fast trakked herself down the beach to organise a cooking session for me with a local Fijian Family.
I woke up to find her holding a pina colada saying' Come and meet the Fijian lady you are going to cook with next Sunday! I staggered down the beach to meet Sugu, a large generous Fijian with big smile and a hug, saying 'So you want to learn how to cook a lovo, Amanda'.
Four days later I wake up in our air conditioned room to discover that it is only me, who is going to hoist herself out of bed early to catch a taxi down to the village to cook.
'Darling, I need some time by the pool. I will come and meet you at lunch time.'
I arrived at the village to see a group of smiling children waving and calling out 'Amanda, Amanda, come with us'.
I walked up the hill behind their nimble feet, trying to avoid tree roots and vines and slippery mud. A Fijian version of a young Marlon Brando revealing pearly white teeth calls out 'Bula! Amanda! '
I turn around to be introduced to the whole family. A young guy called Abo, grabs my arm and pulls me into the kitchen.
'While the lovo is being prepared, you can help me cook the fish I caught for you this morning.' Abo has spent some time learning the carpentry trade in Melbourne so his reassuringly Aussie vowels, help me orientate myself in this unfamiliar setting.
'What are you going to do to the fish, chef?' he calls out.
" Garlic, lime and ginger I think' is my reply.
'Hey that's what we would do, are you sure you are not really Fijian'.
His friendly smile and quirky sense of humour help me relax.
I go outside to watch the boys scrape coconuts for the polisami - wrapped taro leaf parcels filled with roasted coconut and coconut milk.
Another Fijian guy appears in a bright green and yellow tropical shirt and sits down beside me. He introduces himself as Chita in a mesmerizing soft voice.
We talk. I discover that he has had a dream for five year to open a bar on the beach. I have come to Fiji to forget about ungrateful and selfish guests, and have been searching my brain for a worthwhile food and wine project to pour my energies into. Maybe this is it.
Jen arrives late, and we are invited into the house. A long cloth has been placed down the centre of the room and we are invited to sit on either side of it. Dishes are laid out and plates marking spots for eaters are evident. I have difficulty sitting cross legged due to a car accident, so I orchestrate my back against a side board only to have Chita whisper
'Amanda, come here by me. You can lie down and eat in Fiji'.
We eat, laugh, talk and I find myself enjoying the company of this gentle Fijian man.
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