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.
