I know its been a while. I returned to Tassie in May to fill the very empty coffers and to repay and enormous phone call I had unwittingly created. I have found work as a relief teacher in a number of Northern Tasmanian schools, and travelling around has been most enjoyable. I find visiting different schools a challenge, a bit of an adrenalin surge as I walk into an unknown class and work out how they are going to respond. On the whole, very well, as it turns out. I have also done a bit of travelling around the North East and absolutely love it. We used to have a beach shack at Bridport and memories overtake me everytime I drive into the town.
Meanwhile back in Fiji, Chita loses his mobile phone accidentally and I have no way of talking to him for a couple of months, other than arranging chats on his brother's mobile phone. Joe is supposed to be working in the cafe with Chita, but never seems to be around. I ring Friday nights and talk to his wife, or Saturday mornings and arrange a chat with Chita. To a Fijian with a very elastic sense of time, he can wait until he sees me next, but as an uptight European I need constant contact and it drives me nuts.
Although he did say last time I talked to him
'Its good to hear your voice!'
I am constantly racking my brains how to get back to Fiji and trying to find a job seems the perfect solution. However, I have been applying for jobs in Hospitality for over a year and no response until I arrived home one Friday night to hear my dad say:
'A man from Fiji called!'
I immediately thought 'Shit, something has happened to Chita?' Then my rational brain kicked in - if he was hurt, Victor would surely call me, and he has my mobile number......
so who is this mystery man?
I waited impatiently until 7 pm, and got a phone call from a food and beverage manager at a resort saying' Do you still want the job as Restaurant Manager?'
I quickly replied' Yes'.
I waited a very long week for him to ring back and say' Can you come to Fiji for an interview?'
I so wanted this job. I wanted to leap on the next plane. Then I decided to query the job. I had not received a job description or salary. I looked up a payscale website and found out how much I would be paid in Oz, and made an offer of my own.
I flew to Nadi where transport was supposedly waiting to pick me up. A van. I was dropped off at the foyer of the hotel, and the F & B manager raced up, introduced himself and said
" Settle yourself in, we'll have an interview tomorrow'.
I showered, changed and waited for my love to appear. Nothing, no one, nada. I rang Phylis who came to pick me up and we started searching for him. In the village was a farewell for Chita's brother Joe and his wife Natalie, who are migrating to the US and Chita nowhere in sight.
With no mobile I couldn't track him down. I rang Victor on the hill - no answer. Having just survived the flight I couldn't be stuffed walking up the hill to see if he was there, and Phylis hates driving her four wheel drive up there as the road is steep and very rocky.
I waited. Nothing. No one. Had dinner with Phylis and then headed back to the hotel to rest and prepare for my interview. At 10 O' clock I get a phone call from Chita. He had been recovering from too much kava for a wedding or funeral up at Victors and had just strolled down the hill to Phylis's house. She told him to call.
I thought ' buggar it. You can wait until tomorrow to see me. My mind is on getting this job!'
The interview went well the next morning. I really liked the F & B manager but there was no clear job description and no job offer. We talked about upgrading the restaurant menu and retraining staff. It all appealed greatly. The restaurant is only open at night and I could work with Chita by day in the milkbar..... great thoughts...
I was asked to prepare a few food items for the Regional Director, a man loathed in these parts, and I was a bit anxious. Working in a side kitchen with little or no equipment was difficult. I needed time to get someone to set up what I needed as far as ingredients and equipment. I spent 3 hours the first night testing the kitchen preparing two items which should have taken me an hour. The next day I was supposed to have everything ready to go, with assistance. Instead I found myself swinging around in akitchen, with cupboards locked and the Head chef nowhere in sight. Preparing the food took 5 and half hours..... I had help in assembling the dishes for half an hour only.
I was a nervous wreck. The director is a rude and arrogant man. I knew that. He pulled my dishes apart.
I made homemade tortelloni filled with ricotta, prawns and cinnamon, in a lemon butter sauce.
His response ' What's that? I don't see a big New Zealand or Aussie guy eating those.'
Then I made a salad pizza. It should have been rocket and parmesan on top but of course I couldn't find it.
"What's that? This time laughing.
I seared tuna on top of a lemon risotto cake served with caramelised onions in vincotto and shredded basil and orange zest on top.
'What else can you put on top of that?'
I could tell this guy wanted to piles and over load. Fijian hotel food is stuck in the 70's. Where was the cream sauce and trio of prawns?
I was so pissed off. I have never felt so demoralized in my life, when he flicked his fingers at me and said' Off you go, I will talk to the F& B manager'.
I went up to get my portfolio and then waited in my room.
I was invited for a drink in a far corner of the Japanese restaurant by the manager who then offered me
$20,000 Aust salary.
I was angry. Then I thought about it. If I could work just nights at the restaurant and then by day with Chita maybe this could work. I swallowed my pride and said 'yes'
I flew back to Oz and waited for the contract. When it came, I thought ' Where are all the benefits we discussed that would make working for the hotel worthwhile?
Nowhere to be seen.
I sent a copy to a friend to look at. Her response. Its a standard contract but where's the job offer. No relocation package. Unspecified working hours, and no opportunity to work elsewhere to subsidise my salary.
I refused the job. Have spent a week feeling angry, pissed off, uptight and then I remembered the words of a hotel owner I had asked advice of, six months a go.
Amanda if you work in the hotel, its poorly paid and you are better off working for yourself.
Would love to be setting up my cafe, but we have no money for infrastructure; there are no grants available at present and we can't take out a loan until the land issue has been signed over to the clan and we get a signed lease.
I am so sick of travelling back and forth to Fiji. I sooooooo want a little shack for us to live in, but I never have enough money to build it. I so want to spend time with Chita having fun, but we never have enough money to do much....
I love the climate, the people and the lifestyle, but as a kavalagi I need a white girl's job to stay. I need to support Chita. His mum. Provide weekly groceries for his mum's house. Slowly help Chita with infrastructure such as a fridge, table and chairs, lighting, water pipes and our own electricity source. Its so hard, because everything takes soooooooo long.
I am going to apply for a job at an International school and hopefully there are vacancies. I know they pay their staff appropriate wages. I can then help Chita crank up the business so he is making money and so am I. Carrying the load now for two years has been tough.
I feel sometimes that we are not moving ahead. Maybe its just coz we are not moving ahead fast...... a results orientated approach to Fiji is doomed to frustration.
I sooooo want to be there. I sooo need a good job, with a reasonable pay. Any ideas anyone?
I love Fiji, but it also drives me nuts at the same time. Phylis says
'At least you know you are alive in Fiji; its never dull!'
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Fiji One Minute Tassie the next!
The last three weeks have been exciting, exhilerating, knackering and a buzz. Opening the Beach Bure Bar was strategically engineered by me. I organised a family meeting with Chita's brother Joe and wife Natalie. I suggested we get the milk bar open and offered some money which was matched by them. It was a good feeling.
I didn't waste a minute. I went to Sigatoka by van to organise locks for all the windows and doors of the Beach Bure Bar. I also did a price check on a couple of supermarkets. I have a loyalty card with MH supermarkets and ended up putting in a quote for supplies from Shop and Save. They offered a miniscule discount. There is no competition in Fiji, little or no variety and you pay what they say.
The following Monday I took the van yet again along the coastal road to Sigatoka, with a big list. I bought stock and caught a taxi, a supreme indulgence back. Chita and Abo were busy putting in shelves and attaching locks. I wanted to drop it all off at the shop but the locks weren't finished so I took it all to his mother's house.
The next day was the opening. I had met a gorgeous Aussie chick, Megan, who just so happens to be a visual merchandiser. Could she help? But of course. Chita piled everything into a taxi and sent it to the shop. We arrived to find he had stacked and packed as best as he could, but creating an atmosphere was Megan's forte.
Joe, Chita's brother emerged saying 'Amanda we can't open the shop until the minister has conducted a blessing"
'Sure, no problem, gives us more time to set up'
I had spoken to his mum that morning and suggested two things to bake, however, she was determined to make pie, coconut scones and chocolate cake... I gave up. 'Whatever makes you feel a part of the celebration,' I thought.
A couple of hours later I looked around and could not find Chita. He was nowhere to be found and no one knew where he was. I trekked off down the road towards the village and reached his mother's house, walked in the front door, and found him sitting on the side of the bed, looking pale and saying " I don't feel well, I have a headache'.
I knew why he was feeling so bad, he'd stayed up all night watching dvd's rather than letting his fears creep into his sleep.
Is it going to work?' were his last words to me before I closed my eyes.
I headed back to the shop and about an hour later, I noticed the minister storming up the road, coat flapping, bible clutched in his hot little hand.
I greeted him and shook his hand firmly,'Where's Chita? Where is everyone? I was booked for eleven o'clock!
Chita was nowhere to be seen. I ran down the road, to the house, and found him lying back reading a New Idea..... He had no intention of being at the blessing for his own shop, 'Joe's there isn't he?'
I couldn't believe it.
This is embarassing. You need to come and come now. I did my bossy school teacher and he rolled his eyes at me.
You go, and I will follow.
No bloody way. You are going in front of me.
He used every evasion tactic in the book to avoid moving. He picked up a tank top instead of a shirt. At all formal occasions Fijians, were perfectly ironed shirts and sulus. Then he grabbed a dirty t-shirt and put it on inside out. His shorts were filthy. He then bent down slowly searching for his boots.
No boots, your flip flops are over there.
I was semi volcanic. He eased himself off the bed and took the long way out of the house, stopping to say 'bula' to his sister-in-law.
Come on! Get moving! I semi-screeched.
He loitered at the bus stop talking to potential passengers and as I shot a glance up the road, I realised the deck was full and the minister had started...
Shit!
Between clenched teeth I muttered 'If you don't get moving, I will push you up the road myself!'
A cheeky sly grin in my direction from him and a mega shove from me sent him reeling in the right direction.
He turned to me saying 'Hey! What are you doing?'
Its already started and we aren't even there' I bleated.
We arrive at the deck to see everyone seated facing the sea. His brothers are in freshly pressed, brightly coloured shirts with tailored sulus. Chita sits down beside them (in filthy shorts and a t-shirt) and I flee to the doorway of the shop.
The minister is in the middle of welcoming our first customers, locals from the Naviti and Maui Bay. He is so happy to see everyone together.
What a proud moment for the village.
'A milk bar which will support the local village, work with it its next door neighbour the dive shop and create jobs for the village.'
He then began directing comments at Chita in Fijian along the lines of:
'This is a great opportunity for you. Don't waste it. Let the village be proud of you.
You can be a role model for the young boys of the village, showing them that hard work brings its rewards.'
You can help stop the kava drinking at all hours, the boys of the village wandering around without anything to do, and stop the marijuana smoking.
Lucky it was just family at this stage.
Inside the shop Megan and I were busy making signs to let people know the Beach Bure Bar was open. Megan did a fantastic job of setting up the dry goods and then helping create a counter full of colour to keep everyone's eyes roaming around the shop.
I could hear the kava clapping and realised that it would take all day, so Megan and I could relax, get the shop set up, while people started rolling in to join the celebration.
I could not believe how everyone knew. The bush telegraph is fast. All the elders from the village, and family members. In the afternoon people started appearing from up and down the Coral Coast.
The kava clapping continued until 11 pm that night.
I knew how much everyone wanted this business to work. It was only Chita's self doubt stopping him. His family were so proud. Everyone wished him well, over and over again, all day and all night.
Couldn't wait for everyone to leave so we could talk about it.
Are you happy I got the bar open?
Yes.
Did you have any idea that all these people would come to wish you well?
No.
We cuddled up on the mat, and he whispered in my ear
'You're an amazing woman you know!
It made the anxiety and stress I had been through worthwhile. I have realised that when times get tough for him, his personal response is flight. My own reaction is the complete opposite - Fight.
Two weeks later I was in a position where I had to stand up for what I believed in and boy did it cause a quiet tense situation in the Tubuna household. Fijians never raise their voice, so if they want to let you know you have done something wrong, you get the silent treatment.... not pleasant at all.
It all started the day, Joe and Chita got carried away with a Fijian idea on promoting the business. A group of van drivers from the Hideaway resort appeared on the Tuesday morning wanting cups of tea and buns.
Can we give them for free?
Yes. If you think they are going to bring us business.
They came, they drank, they left.
However, the next day Joe had come up with the brilliant idea of wooing them back with kava( talk about overkill). At all family meetings I had stated that kava was banned from the deck. We are trying to create a family atmosphere, where mums, kids and family can come. If there is kava; it becomes mens business and no one will visit the shop. I remember heads nodding in agreement.
I rock up to the shop with the daily baking - a tray of pizza, banana breads and coconut scones, as well as a loaves of crusty bread and my now famous fruit loaf. Chita is in the doorway.
I ask him what is going on and he just shakes his head. Its Joe's idea!
I sit in the shop, while a group of men begin a kava session that starts at 11 am and around 4 pm when I have made the grand total of $17.50 for day. I am explosive.
I wait until the kava bowl, in this case a large green plastic bucket that I use to bring water for the kettle, is empty and I grab it.
I am sorry boys, but this is business. Kava and business do not go together. I am going to have to ask you to move.
Chita saw me, knew I meant business and started clearing an area beside the deck, on the beach.
Joe emerges through the doorway and I give him a serve.
I am sorry Joe, I have spoken to these gentlemen and told them its time to move. I need room for customers to drink tea and coffee.
He turned tail and the guests all disappeared in silence.
Chita appears in the doorway with a full bucket of kava and I grab it.
Sorry, no more kava on the deck.
Hey what are you doing?
He turned to talk to Joe, returning to spit at me- I am going with them.
Interestingly enough the village has very strict rules- no kava drinking during the day. Why the bloody hell did Joe think he could get away with it on the deck? I felt vindicated.
However, as I sat at the counter alone, by myself and no one else around, I kept thinking 'Shit. What have I done!'
No Fijian woman ever stands up to a man- that's shaming her partner. No woman stands up to the elder brothers of the Tubuna family. I knew I would suffer the consequences but I needed to distinguish between business and village life. To make the business work, we have to run it differently.
I sat there, in silence, with a quivering lip, until a party of kids came to buy snacks and lolly pops. A couple of ladies walking home dropped in to buy bread and then food started disappearing.
Chita's mum appeared and had a cup of tea. She didn't say anything other than
'Amanda are you okay?'
Yep.
Chita reappears forty minutes later.
Are you coming to Fabi's for dinner?
Yes. He smiles and its all forgotten apparently.
We head off to dinner and I vent to Fabi. Maybe you shouldn't be going home. You know that kerikeri (Fijian concept of share and care though giving) is too strong here. If someone asks for help you have to give it.
I turned to Chita and said 'Maybe I should stay! He nods in agreement.
Its a bit early for you to leave Amanda.
Yes I know. I don't want to go, but funds are running out and I can't live on fresh air. I can't live in his mother's house without contributing food in my weekly shop.
I can't go anywhere and do anything without a bus fare or a fare for the van.
If I can change my flight I can stay a couple of weeks. I really want to go home for mum's 70th birthday.
Chita and I have discussed it a lot, and he wants me to go...
I make my mind up to stay and hold the fort.
The next morning I get up and head into the kitchen. The air is frosty, unusual considering it was around 27 degrees. His mother doesn't speak but moves around doing stuff, but not baking.
I sit down to a cup of coffee and she comes and sits beside me.
Amanda you know I love you as a daughter. You know I speak straight to all my family.
Yes.
I need to talk to you about yesterday.
Okay.
You did a terrible thing!
What!
You shamed the family.
I sighed and listened. When she had finished I replied' I know what I did was wrong if it had taken place in the village, but this is business and we ca't have kava drinking on the deck; we will have no customers.'
Wage is very angry.
I had received the wrath of the smouldering older brother. Things were not looking good.
We are having a family meeting tonight. Ominous.
I walk up to the cafe and Chita is smiling saying'bula'. He disappears to the village and returns saying
'My brothers aren't talking to me. What are we going to do? Are you going to go back to Australia?"
No way. I have got this business started I am going to fight for what I believe in, even if it transgresses the Fijian code of conduct.
The remainder of the day disappeared in cups of tea and coffee, happy chats, a quick swim and then I nicked off to check if I could change my flight.
Fuck. I made the change of Pacific Blue, but my credit card was rejected.
I checked my balance to see if I could make a payment.
Yes, but not enough.
It was a defining moment. I have to go home. I have no money left.
Phyllis offered me a tea, saying you know things will fall a part while you are away. The only one who can make this business work is you. You have to be here, to make it work.
I understand all that, but at the level we had started the business - as a milk bar selling goods the locals want,and making cups of tea, coffee and juice. It was all completely manageable.
I was torn in two. My business brain saying 'stay, it all will go to...' my heart going' no, I don't want to leave' my logical brain winning out saying' darling, you have no choice, without funds you cannot stay'.
My turmoil was interrupted by the mobile phone ringing.
Everyone is waiting for you.
I am coming.
You can walk me down.
No you can do this by yourself.
No, you are my partner and you are coming...
I walk down the hill, find him swinging in the hammock with the opening line of
'If you were a Fijian girl you would have been beaten and chased out of the village'
Lucky I am not Fijian was my retort.
You go, I need to close up the shop.
I head towards the village, dragging each foot in front of the other, rehearsing my speech for the family meeting.
I am rock solid on my actions, but I am unsure of how THE FAMILY are going to respond.
I walk into the house and Natalie calls out
Amanda you must be hungry, have some soup NENE( Chita's mum) has made.
I sit there, trying to sip soup, my guts churning as I glance around and realise that we have a very formal seating arrangement for this evening.
Joe is sitting halfway down the room, Natalie and the kids are sitting in women's zone close to the door, and I am lurking behind them, seated at the table.
Where's Chita?
Its a daily catch cry!
Coming is my response.
Chita mosies on in, through the kitchen, gives me a quick glance and then goes and sits by his brother.
I sit down on the floor beside the ladies, with my back to the couch for support and the family meeting begins with
'amanda what do you want to say? from Chita.
I am startled and my words come tripping over themselves
Well, first of all, Joe I would like to say sorry for my actions. I did not intend to hurt you feelings, shame the family or make you angry. If you wish to serve kava to potential clients, we need to set up an area. The deck is however off limits. Its a place for customers to come and have coffee and tea.
He turns to me
'I accept your apology'.
I am shocked.
Is there anything else you wish to say. I blurted out all my business concerns and then its Natalie's turn.
Her response is telling.
I argued with Joe for months about opening this cafe. I knew this was going to happen.
What were you two thinking? You are always looking after everyone else. Why is it that we are always the ones to buy food and kava for every occasion. No one buys it for us. Why do you two have to be at around every kava bowl...
I knew this wasn't going to work.
An ally at last.
If Amanda hadn't said what she said, I was going to give you both a kick up the bum.
What were you thinking?
She confronts Joe. He is silent.
She confronts Chita. Do you hear me? Do you understand?
He nods and is silent.
The meeting ends positively for me, but Chita can't resist a serve in my direction - You were disrespectful to my culture Amanda.
Bull shit. This is business, not the village.
I wake up with a sick feeling in my stomach. If I can't change my flight I am going to have to go.
I head up the hill to use the internet at Phyllis' house.
No, I can't change my flight.
I walk towards the deck, tears flowing.
Chita I have to go. I don't want to but I have to.
I understand. Go and pack.
I drip down to the village, knocking on Megan's door for a quick girl chat, before I go.
You are doing the right thing Amanda. Chita is supremely capable.
Encouraging words.
Chita reappears, saying 'Lets' go to Nadi for the night.'
I will tell the family.
He tells Joe who goes to mind the shop and then his mum.
You are leaving Amanda? questions Nene.
I nod.
I grab clothes from the line, pack stuff into two bags - things to stay under Nene's bed and things to take with me.
Cindy,a local Australian,appears returning a pizza tray and offering a lift to the airport in a van.
I say 'yes'
Nene comes and sits beside me on the couch. We both cry and hug.
I am going to miss you. You have been so good to the family Amanda
I am bereft, gulping back sobs and trying to be strong.
I ring everyone to let them know I am leaving. Its a shock for all.
Phyllis appears in the RAV 4 wrapped in a lime sulu, to give me a hug.
Chita and I both collapse in his mum's room until transport arrives.
In the van on the way to Nadi, Victor rings, I just hand the phone to Chita and he answers. I just couldn't talk.
One night in Nadi with my beloved and its Tassie here I come!
I didn't waste a minute. I went to Sigatoka by van to organise locks for all the windows and doors of the Beach Bure Bar. I also did a price check on a couple of supermarkets. I have a loyalty card with MH supermarkets and ended up putting in a quote for supplies from Shop and Save. They offered a miniscule discount. There is no competition in Fiji, little or no variety and you pay what they say.
The following Monday I took the van yet again along the coastal road to Sigatoka, with a big list. I bought stock and caught a taxi, a supreme indulgence back. Chita and Abo were busy putting in shelves and attaching locks. I wanted to drop it all off at the shop but the locks weren't finished so I took it all to his mother's house.
The next day was the opening. I had met a gorgeous Aussie chick, Megan, who just so happens to be a visual merchandiser. Could she help? But of course. Chita piled everything into a taxi and sent it to the shop. We arrived to find he had stacked and packed as best as he could, but creating an atmosphere was Megan's forte.
Joe, Chita's brother emerged saying 'Amanda we can't open the shop until the minister has conducted a blessing"
'Sure, no problem, gives us more time to set up'
I had spoken to his mum that morning and suggested two things to bake, however, she was determined to make pie, coconut scones and chocolate cake... I gave up. 'Whatever makes you feel a part of the celebration,' I thought.
A couple of hours later I looked around and could not find Chita. He was nowhere to be found and no one knew where he was. I trekked off down the road towards the village and reached his mother's house, walked in the front door, and found him sitting on the side of the bed, looking pale and saying " I don't feel well, I have a headache'.
I knew why he was feeling so bad, he'd stayed up all night watching dvd's rather than letting his fears creep into his sleep.
Is it going to work?' were his last words to me before I closed my eyes.
I headed back to the shop and about an hour later, I noticed the minister storming up the road, coat flapping, bible clutched in his hot little hand.
I greeted him and shook his hand firmly,'Where's Chita? Where is everyone? I was booked for eleven o'clock!
Chita was nowhere to be seen. I ran down the road, to the house, and found him lying back reading a New Idea..... He had no intention of being at the blessing for his own shop, 'Joe's there isn't he?'
I couldn't believe it.
This is embarassing. You need to come and come now. I did my bossy school teacher and he rolled his eyes at me.
You go, and I will follow.
No bloody way. You are going in front of me.
He used every evasion tactic in the book to avoid moving. He picked up a tank top instead of a shirt. At all formal occasions Fijians, were perfectly ironed shirts and sulus. Then he grabbed a dirty t-shirt and put it on inside out. His shorts were filthy. He then bent down slowly searching for his boots.
No boots, your flip flops are over there.
I was semi volcanic. He eased himself off the bed and took the long way out of the house, stopping to say 'bula' to his sister-in-law.
Come on! Get moving! I semi-screeched.
He loitered at the bus stop talking to potential passengers and as I shot a glance up the road, I realised the deck was full and the minister had started...
Shit!
Between clenched teeth I muttered 'If you don't get moving, I will push you up the road myself!'
A cheeky sly grin in my direction from him and a mega shove from me sent him reeling in the right direction.
He turned to me saying 'Hey! What are you doing?'
Its already started and we aren't even there' I bleated.
We arrive at the deck to see everyone seated facing the sea. His brothers are in freshly pressed, brightly coloured shirts with tailored sulus. Chita sits down beside them (in filthy shorts and a t-shirt) and I flee to the doorway of the shop.
The minister is in the middle of welcoming our first customers, locals from the Naviti and Maui Bay. He is so happy to see everyone together.
What a proud moment for the village.
'A milk bar which will support the local village, work with it its next door neighbour the dive shop and create jobs for the village.'
He then began directing comments at Chita in Fijian along the lines of:
'This is a great opportunity for you. Don't waste it. Let the village be proud of you.
You can be a role model for the young boys of the village, showing them that hard work brings its rewards.'
You can help stop the kava drinking at all hours, the boys of the village wandering around without anything to do, and stop the marijuana smoking.
Lucky it was just family at this stage.
Inside the shop Megan and I were busy making signs to let people know the Beach Bure Bar was open. Megan did a fantastic job of setting up the dry goods and then helping create a counter full of colour to keep everyone's eyes roaming around the shop.
I could hear the kava clapping and realised that it would take all day, so Megan and I could relax, get the shop set up, while people started rolling in to join the celebration.
I could not believe how everyone knew. The bush telegraph is fast. All the elders from the village, and family members. In the afternoon people started appearing from up and down the Coral Coast.
The kava clapping continued until 11 pm that night.
I knew how much everyone wanted this business to work. It was only Chita's self doubt stopping him. His family were so proud. Everyone wished him well, over and over again, all day and all night.
Couldn't wait for everyone to leave so we could talk about it.
Are you happy I got the bar open?
Yes.
Did you have any idea that all these people would come to wish you well?
No.
We cuddled up on the mat, and he whispered in my ear
'You're an amazing woman you know!
It made the anxiety and stress I had been through worthwhile. I have realised that when times get tough for him, his personal response is flight. My own reaction is the complete opposite - Fight.
Two weeks later I was in a position where I had to stand up for what I believed in and boy did it cause a quiet tense situation in the Tubuna household. Fijians never raise their voice, so if they want to let you know you have done something wrong, you get the silent treatment.... not pleasant at all.
It all started the day, Joe and Chita got carried away with a Fijian idea on promoting the business. A group of van drivers from the Hideaway resort appeared on the Tuesday morning wanting cups of tea and buns.
Can we give them for free?
Yes. If you think they are going to bring us business.
They came, they drank, they left.
However, the next day Joe had come up with the brilliant idea of wooing them back with kava( talk about overkill). At all family meetings I had stated that kava was banned from the deck. We are trying to create a family atmosphere, where mums, kids and family can come. If there is kava; it becomes mens business and no one will visit the shop. I remember heads nodding in agreement.
I rock up to the shop with the daily baking - a tray of pizza, banana breads and coconut scones, as well as a loaves of crusty bread and my now famous fruit loaf. Chita is in the doorway.
I ask him what is going on and he just shakes his head. Its Joe's idea!
I sit in the shop, while a group of men begin a kava session that starts at 11 am and around 4 pm when I have made the grand total of $17.50 for day. I am explosive.
I wait until the kava bowl, in this case a large green plastic bucket that I use to bring water for the kettle, is empty and I grab it.
I am sorry boys, but this is business. Kava and business do not go together. I am going to have to ask you to move.
Chita saw me, knew I meant business and started clearing an area beside the deck, on the beach.
Joe emerges through the doorway and I give him a serve.
I am sorry Joe, I have spoken to these gentlemen and told them its time to move. I need room for customers to drink tea and coffee.
He turned tail and the guests all disappeared in silence.
Chita appears in the doorway with a full bucket of kava and I grab it.
Sorry, no more kava on the deck.
Hey what are you doing?
He turned to talk to Joe, returning to spit at me- I am going with them.
Interestingly enough the village has very strict rules- no kava drinking during the day. Why the bloody hell did Joe think he could get away with it on the deck? I felt vindicated.
However, as I sat at the counter alone, by myself and no one else around, I kept thinking 'Shit. What have I done!'
No Fijian woman ever stands up to a man- that's shaming her partner. No woman stands up to the elder brothers of the Tubuna family. I knew I would suffer the consequences but I needed to distinguish between business and village life. To make the business work, we have to run it differently.
I sat there, in silence, with a quivering lip, until a party of kids came to buy snacks and lolly pops. A couple of ladies walking home dropped in to buy bread and then food started disappearing.
Chita's mum appeared and had a cup of tea. She didn't say anything other than
'Amanda are you okay?'
Yep.
Chita reappears forty minutes later.
Are you coming to Fabi's for dinner?
Yes. He smiles and its all forgotten apparently.
We head off to dinner and I vent to Fabi. Maybe you shouldn't be going home. You know that kerikeri (Fijian concept of share and care though giving) is too strong here. If someone asks for help you have to give it.
I turned to Chita and said 'Maybe I should stay! He nods in agreement.
Its a bit early for you to leave Amanda.
Yes I know. I don't want to go, but funds are running out and I can't live on fresh air. I can't live in his mother's house without contributing food in my weekly shop.
I can't go anywhere and do anything without a bus fare or a fare for the van.
If I can change my flight I can stay a couple of weeks. I really want to go home for mum's 70th birthday.
Chita and I have discussed it a lot, and he wants me to go...
I make my mind up to stay and hold the fort.
The next morning I get up and head into the kitchen. The air is frosty, unusual considering it was around 27 degrees. His mother doesn't speak but moves around doing stuff, but not baking.
I sit down to a cup of coffee and she comes and sits beside me.
Amanda you know I love you as a daughter. You know I speak straight to all my family.
Yes.
I need to talk to you about yesterday.
Okay.
You did a terrible thing!
What!
You shamed the family.
I sighed and listened. When she had finished I replied' I know what I did was wrong if it had taken place in the village, but this is business and we ca't have kava drinking on the deck; we will have no customers.'
Wage is very angry.
I had received the wrath of the smouldering older brother. Things were not looking good.
We are having a family meeting tonight. Ominous.
I walk up to the cafe and Chita is smiling saying'bula'. He disappears to the village and returns saying
'My brothers aren't talking to me. What are we going to do? Are you going to go back to Australia?"
No way. I have got this business started I am going to fight for what I believe in, even if it transgresses the Fijian code of conduct.
The remainder of the day disappeared in cups of tea and coffee, happy chats, a quick swim and then I nicked off to check if I could change my flight.
Fuck. I made the change of Pacific Blue, but my credit card was rejected.
I checked my balance to see if I could make a payment.
Yes, but not enough.
It was a defining moment. I have to go home. I have no money left.
Phyllis offered me a tea, saying you know things will fall a part while you are away. The only one who can make this business work is you. You have to be here, to make it work.
I understand all that, but at the level we had started the business - as a milk bar selling goods the locals want,and making cups of tea, coffee and juice. It was all completely manageable.
I was torn in two. My business brain saying 'stay, it all will go to...' my heart going' no, I don't want to leave' my logical brain winning out saying' darling, you have no choice, without funds you cannot stay'.
My turmoil was interrupted by the mobile phone ringing.
Everyone is waiting for you.
I am coming.
You can walk me down.
No you can do this by yourself.
No, you are my partner and you are coming...
I walk down the hill, find him swinging in the hammock with the opening line of
'If you were a Fijian girl you would have been beaten and chased out of the village'
Lucky I am not Fijian was my retort.
You go, I need to close up the shop.
I head towards the village, dragging each foot in front of the other, rehearsing my speech for the family meeting.
I am rock solid on my actions, but I am unsure of how THE FAMILY are going to respond.
I walk into the house and Natalie calls out
Amanda you must be hungry, have some soup NENE( Chita's mum) has made.
I sit there, trying to sip soup, my guts churning as I glance around and realise that we have a very formal seating arrangement for this evening.
Joe is sitting halfway down the room, Natalie and the kids are sitting in women's zone close to the door, and I am lurking behind them, seated at the table.
Where's Chita?
Its a daily catch cry!
Coming is my response.
Chita mosies on in, through the kitchen, gives me a quick glance and then goes and sits by his brother.
I sit down on the floor beside the ladies, with my back to the couch for support and the family meeting begins with
'amanda what do you want to say? from Chita.
I am startled and my words come tripping over themselves
Well, first of all, Joe I would like to say sorry for my actions. I did not intend to hurt you feelings, shame the family or make you angry. If you wish to serve kava to potential clients, we need to set up an area. The deck is however off limits. Its a place for customers to come and have coffee and tea.
He turns to me
'I accept your apology'.
I am shocked.
Is there anything else you wish to say. I blurted out all my business concerns and then its Natalie's turn.
Her response is telling.
I argued with Joe for months about opening this cafe. I knew this was going to happen.
What were you two thinking? You are always looking after everyone else. Why is it that we are always the ones to buy food and kava for every occasion. No one buys it for us. Why do you two have to be at around every kava bowl...
I knew this wasn't going to work.
An ally at last.
If Amanda hadn't said what she said, I was going to give you both a kick up the bum.
What were you thinking?
She confronts Joe. He is silent.
She confronts Chita. Do you hear me? Do you understand?
He nods and is silent.
The meeting ends positively for me, but Chita can't resist a serve in my direction - You were disrespectful to my culture Amanda.
Bull shit. This is business, not the village.
I wake up with a sick feeling in my stomach. If I can't change my flight I am going to have to go.
I head up the hill to use the internet at Phyllis' house.
No, I can't change my flight.
I walk towards the deck, tears flowing.
Chita I have to go. I don't want to but I have to.
I understand. Go and pack.
I drip down to the village, knocking on Megan's door for a quick girl chat, before I go.
You are doing the right thing Amanda. Chita is supremely capable.
Encouraging words.
Chita reappears, saying 'Lets' go to Nadi for the night.'
I will tell the family.
He tells Joe who goes to mind the shop and then his mum.
You are leaving Amanda? questions Nene.
I nod.
I grab clothes from the line, pack stuff into two bags - things to stay under Nene's bed and things to take with me.
Cindy,a local Australian,appears returning a pizza tray and offering a lift to the airport in a van.
I say 'yes'
Nene comes and sits beside me on the couch. We both cry and hug.
I am going to miss you. You have been so good to the family Amanda
I am bereft, gulping back sobs and trying to be strong.
I ring everyone to let them know I am leaving. Its a shock for all.
Phyllis appears in the RAV 4 wrapped in a lime sulu, to give me a hug.
Chita and I both collapse in his mum's room until transport arrives.
In the van on the way to Nadi, Victor rings, I just hand the phone to Chita and he answers. I just couldn't talk.
One night in Nadi with my beloved and its Tassie here I come!
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Easy like Sunday Morning!
Am back in the village after two months in a fabulous house built on the peak of a hill with a 180 degree view of the lagoon, the breakers and the never ending ocean. Chita and I have enjoyed the peace and quiet and doing our own thing.
I have been in baking frenzy, testing sour dough bread, white bread, buns, fruit brioche, chocolate brioche and pizza. Have had nods of approval from all. I have been able to make a crunchy bread in a humid tropical climate. It does not stay crunchy mind you, but fresh from the oven,deliciously hot, drenched in butter I am reminded of the breads I used to eat in Europe.
Just the incidentals of daily life, take all day here. Going shopping in Sigakatoka takes half a day, washing takes an eon, walking down to the local petrol station for kerosene for the stove takes a couple of hours, and just getting out of bed and having breakfast takes a long time. Its why I am here, to slow down my overactive high achieving brain and try and restore a balance. I have had a struggle here as everything takes so long, communication is intermittent and time passes while the documents for the lease on the cafe sit on Chita's brother Joe's kitchen bench in Suva for two months.....
By accident I rang Natalie, Joe's wife to find out if anything was moving. I had been told quietly and gently that getting the lease signed was family business and just to be patient. I am a very patient person, but Fiji tests my endurance. I discovered that Vilimone, who I met by accident in Suva had assisted Joe to get Isoa to sign the lease. He has been a life saver. He is part of the new special investigations team into anti corruption. Schooled in New Zealand, he bridges Fijian tradition and western sophistication. He continually tells me that Fijians don't have confidence in their abilities, they have no self belief that they can change their worlds, because the Fijian village culture is ruled by the village elders, and Chita being the fourth son, must do their bidding. Fear of the unknown is prevalent.
Found out to my delight that the lease is signed, and the business registered but up for renewal we can finally open.
I called a family meeting and offered $200 to set up the milk bar with stock, and Joe has matched it. We made a list together of things to sell, making our cafe a kind of Seven Eleven for the village, which will bring good will. What will help us make money is the food I am going to make - bread, buns, biscuits, cakes, and pizza.
We are also going to offer one dish a day until we start making money.
I have also found out from Natalie, who is marketing manager at the Naviti resort that they don't make their own bread and buy it from Sigatoka everyday which is forty minutes away and we are five.
I can't believe we are finally going to start and everyone agrees. Chita rushed off yesterday to ask Abo, our favourite builder to come and build the shelves on Monday.
I went into Sigatoka to do a price check on items to sell. I went into a supermarket called Shop and Save and left a list, which will hopefully be priced up with a discounted price for our shop. I will compare them on Monday. Here the Indians are a cunning bunch and you have to keep your wits about you.
Leaving the peace and tranquility of Victor's house was bitter sweet for me. I am back in the village and in trouble the first day, for striding across the village green in shorts without a sulu. Buggar. I am sleeping on the matrimonial bed, which is as hard as a rock, and seems to have a plank down the middle which is causing back ache and the pillows are rockettes so I end up with a crick in my neck. Oh for the tontine pillows from Oz, I brought with me for Victor...
Its been non stop rain for the last eight days and it definitely affects the mood. I have even ended up with a sniffle while Fijians around me are suffering congested chests, and colds. Today for the first time, the sky is clear and the waves are gently lapping against the reef, instead of the pounding waves of the last week or so. I woke up this morning to coffee and Nene ( chita's mum's) custard pie, without the custard, as she had run out. 'It doesn't matter darling' she says. I quickly wrap my sulu( sarong) around my hips and stroll up to the beach bure bar. The tide is high and I take a refreshing dip before hitting the computer. Being Sunday the internet is running at half pace so I have a good chance of getting this blog done and checking my emails.
Tomorrow will be a busy day, into Sigatoka early to shop, baking in the afternoon, and Monday typing price lists and signs for the shop. Then Tuesday we open. Yippee!!
Between Chita and me there is love and understanding but we are still trying to bridge Fijian and European culture. We have had some spectacular spats. A Fijian raising his voice is not done. My Irish grandmother cannot be contained in me. I suppose we both wish we could instantly understand each other's needs but it is not so.
Fijians live each day as it comes. No planning for tomorrow. What I have to eat today, I eat it all. What I have to drink today I share and drink it all. What money I have today, I spend. If we have an argument Chita wipes it out of his mind, and I am the elephant who doesn't forget. I am learning to wipe off the stretching that occurs daily.
I have been talking about the business for two years now, and thought he had the initiative to start but he cannot. Joe is exactly the same. I am the driving force on this boat. Chita is a great helper so we will get there.
I can extend my visa for two months and get this show on the road. The only sacrifice is ending up with no reserved savings and missing my mum's seventieth birthday and a return flight and even money to spend on her birthday dinner is out of the question. I had the good fortune in Suva last weekend to go to an Indian bazaar and buy 8 cushion covers brightly coloured and glittering for $20!! My mother always says to change a room, start with the cushion covers...
Winter here is still warm,May is on its way with moli(thick green skinned moli) and sunshine so I am happy to stay....
The Beach Bure bar will be open for business on Tuesday!!! Yippee!
I have been in baking frenzy, testing sour dough bread, white bread, buns, fruit brioche, chocolate brioche and pizza. Have had nods of approval from all. I have been able to make a crunchy bread in a humid tropical climate. It does not stay crunchy mind you, but fresh from the oven,deliciously hot, drenched in butter I am reminded of the breads I used to eat in Europe.
Just the incidentals of daily life, take all day here. Going shopping in Sigakatoka takes half a day, washing takes an eon, walking down to the local petrol station for kerosene for the stove takes a couple of hours, and just getting out of bed and having breakfast takes a long time. Its why I am here, to slow down my overactive high achieving brain and try and restore a balance. I have had a struggle here as everything takes so long, communication is intermittent and time passes while the documents for the lease on the cafe sit on Chita's brother Joe's kitchen bench in Suva for two months.....
By accident I rang Natalie, Joe's wife to find out if anything was moving. I had been told quietly and gently that getting the lease signed was family business and just to be patient. I am a very patient person, but Fiji tests my endurance. I discovered that Vilimone, who I met by accident in Suva had assisted Joe to get Isoa to sign the lease. He has been a life saver. He is part of the new special investigations team into anti corruption. Schooled in New Zealand, he bridges Fijian tradition and western sophistication. He continually tells me that Fijians don't have confidence in their abilities, they have no self belief that they can change their worlds, because the Fijian village culture is ruled by the village elders, and Chita being the fourth son, must do their bidding. Fear of the unknown is prevalent.
Found out to my delight that the lease is signed, and the business registered but up for renewal we can finally open.
I called a family meeting and offered $200 to set up the milk bar with stock, and Joe has matched it. We made a list together of things to sell, making our cafe a kind of Seven Eleven for the village, which will bring good will. What will help us make money is the food I am going to make - bread, buns, biscuits, cakes, and pizza.
We are also going to offer one dish a day until we start making money.
I have also found out from Natalie, who is marketing manager at the Naviti resort that they don't make their own bread and buy it from Sigatoka everyday which is forty minutes away and we are five.
I can't believe we are finally going to start and everyone agrees. Chita rushed off yesterday to ask Abo, our favourite builder to come and build the shelves on Monday.
I went into Sigatoka to do a price check on items to sell. I went into a supermarket called Shop and Save and left a list, which will hopefully be priced up with a discounted price for our shop. I will compare them on Monday. Here the Indians are a cunning bunch and you have to keep your wits about you.
Leaving the peace and tranquility of Victor's house was bitter sweet for me. I am back in the village and in trouble the first day, for striding across the village green in shorts without a sulu. Buggar. I am sleeping on the matrimonial bed, which is as hard as a rock, and seems to have a plank down the middle which is causing back ache and the pillows are rockettes so I end up with a crick in my neck. Oh for the tontine pillows from Oz, I brought with me for Victor...
Its been non stop rain for the last eight days and it definitely affects the mood. I have even ended up with a sniffle while Fijians around me are suffering congested chests, and colds. Today for the first time, the sky is clear and the waves are gently lapping against the reef, instead of the pounding waves of the last week or so. I woke up this morning to coffee and Nene ( chita's mum's) custard pie, without the custard, as she had run out. 'It doesn't matter darling' she says. I quickly wrap my sulu( sarong) around my hips and stroll up to the beach bure bar. The tide is high and I take a refreshing dip before hitting the computer. Being Sunday the internet is running at half pace so I have a good chance of getting this blog done and checking my emails.
Tomorrow will be a busy day, into Sigatoka early to shop, baking in the afternoon, and Monday typing price lists and signs for the shop. Then Tuesday we open. Yippee!!
Between Chita and me there is love and understanding but we are still trying to bridge Fijian and European culture. We have had some spectacular spats. A Fijian raising his voice is not done. My Irish grandmother cannot be contained in me. I suppose we both wish we could instantly understand each other's needs but it is not so.
Fijians live each day as it comes. No planning for tomorrow. What I have to eat today, I eat it all. What I have to drink today I share and drink it all. What money I have today, I spend. If we have an argument Chita wipes it out of his mind, and I am the elephant who doesn't forget. I am learning to wipe off the stretching that occurs daily.
I have been talking about the business for two years now, and thought he had the initiative to start but he cannot. Joe is exactly the same. I am the driving force on this boat. Chita is a great helper so we will get there.
I can extend my visa for two months and get this show on the road. The only sacrifice is ending up with no reserved savings and missing my mum's seventieth birthday and a return flight and even money to spend on her birthday dinner is out of the question. I had the good fortune in Suva last weekend to go to an Indian bazaar and buy 8 cushion covers brightly coloured and glittering for $20!! My mother always says to change a room, start with the cushion covers...
Winter here is still warm,May is on its way with moli(thick green skinned moli) and sunshine so I am happy to stay....
The Beach Bure bar will be open for business on Tuesday!!! Yippee!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Bainimarama and me
Was having a tough week with the Beach Bure Bar project, trying to coordinate two brothers for a meeting to discuss how we are going to get the lease. A cousin of Chita's who is in a special investigations unit with the government, offered me some advice and even prepared the papers for Joe, (Chita's brother) over a month a go, to present to the landowner. Where were they? Sitting on the kitchen bench and being given a wide berth.
I needed time out so I went to Suva for the afternoon and found myself having a coffee and a chat with Vili. He has lived in New Zealand so he can appreciate the frustrations I have been succumbing to. However, in Fiji, all is not lost. He told me that Fijians fear change. They do not believe in themselves to instigate change. Halleluiah! Am I hearing you brother! It explains a lot. Fijians don't like conflict. They don't like saying no, so they omit,evade and avoid at all costs. It drives me nuts.
Anyhow, he asked me if I had a laptop. I said 'Yes, but its back in Votua. Do you need something typed? I am a fast typer.'
Within minutes I had half the special investigations team in Phyllis, an American's car, and they were sorting out her land and business issues for free on the way down to the Coral Coast.
The report to be typed is called 'Collusion in High Places' and addresses the issues of corruption by an elite handful who have made a packet out of Fiji. One of my friend's has been involved in a land dispute and was wrongfully deported two months a go, not by the Immigration department but by the Resort which did not like his imput. It would make a good movie. He was arrested on a Friday evening around 6 pm and was immediately handcuffed. No one showed him ID. His colleague had enough time to throw a bag of stuff together and he was whisked away to Suva for a night. One of his captors was a local policeman. Handsomely paid no doubt. Anyhow, the next day, his captors brought kava and offered him a bowl as an apology for taking him. He was not allowed access to a telephone. He was taken to the airport terminal and the ticket was in an envelope marked with the name of the resort..... Jesus.
Anyhow, his testimony is evidence for this report on corruption in high places and explains the methods used by foreign investors, corrupt government ministers and even corrupt lawyers to railroad the local landowners, pay them a pittance and reap huge financial rewards.
My heart was in my mouth as I read it. My blood boiled over occasionally as I was typing and I had to stop and let out an expletive or two. Vili sat beside me writing as I was typing and then read it out loud as I typed away. It was an exhilerating experience. Not only was I helping a friend, but I was one step away from the commodore, as this report should have been presented to parliament this week.
It feel good to be doing something that is real. I have been chasing my tail for the last month trying to get the Beach Bure Bar on the road and nothing. I also need to state that in the last month we have had a group wedding six or seven couples from the village, marrying on the same day. In Fiji you have a civil ceremony and when you can afford it you hold the village wedding. A group wedding makes economic sense at this time, when many have no jobs. The preparations go on for a week. Then old aunty who was 92 died in her bed on a Saturday morning. Another week of preparations, with much kava, and much boy talk; the women are left at home. Then there are visits from the University of the South Pacific to discuss a water project. Then Chita is on the Korolevu Wai ( water) committee and has a job checking the meter on a daily basis. Then there is the plantation to be cleared, the beach to be raked, the grass outside the beach bure bar to be cut and before you know it a month has gone by...
I have been working as a tutor to two Australian couples whose children are being home schooled. Have just found out today that one of the families has bought a farm and is returning to Albury so my services are no longer required.
The last month has been food for thought. Business here is a long slow process. My idea of getting the cafe open and starting a woodfired oven have not happened. I need a job to stay. I keep applying but they have to be offered to Fijians first or the salary scale is too low and most businesses think I would not be interested. It looks like I might have to come back to Australia for an injection of good food, hot water, clean clothes, and maybe extra cash in my pocket. Its not what I wanted, but money leaches from my pocket here.
There are family bills to be contributed to, family celebrations to be contributed to, weekly food bill and transport.
I finally got Joe's wife Natalie to agree to bring him to Amelia, the mother's house for a meeting on Tuesday. The day dawned and we had visitors from USP at the house so I was busy cooking and told Chita to send a message and ask to postpone it as reception when it rains is not great. He gets a call around 8.30 asking for our whereabouts. Wednesday night, he turns to me, 'are we still going down to see Joe?' of course we bloody are, I felt like saying but just nodded. We arrive at the house to find that there has been no water for three days, so Natalie and Joe had taken their smelly nephew back to the hotel for a bath. Chita disappears for a smoke and I wait. 8.00 Joe and Natalie arrive. No sign of Chita. I ring him and tell him to come. Sometimes my patience is sorely tested.
We sit down for the meeting and Natalie basically lets the boys have it. It was a mistake to build the cafe there without a lease. We agreed to set up a milk bar initially with funds from Chita's superannuation. Joe and Chita both agreed to take Uncle and go and see the landowner to see if we can get the lease papers signed. It was supposed to be the next day. Yes Amanda, we are going.
I send Chita a text saying' hope it goes well'. I ring him after work only to discover the meeting was postponed because of an Easter ritual - fasting from four am to 4 p.m. I could roll my eyes and curse, but by now I am used to it.
Last night after dinner Chita went down to the village again to discuss the strategy for getting Isoa to sign. I have not seen him today yet. There is a fifty fifty chance it may have happened. I will wait until I hear.
Back to me. I am losing weight from walking up and down a steep hill everyday. I am feeling fit. I am loving not wearing tight fitting clothes. I am loving cooking and baking.
I just get lonely sometimes and miss my girlfriends. When you live with all guys, they are a sometimes talkative and sometimes very quiet lot. Chita talks to Joe in Fijian. If its a long conversation its either about rugby or fishing or farming.
I am in Suva for the weekend to escape the village and be alone with my man. He will stay up late of course to watch the HongKong 7's and I will wander around the shops, have a coffee and cake somewhere and do girlie things.
I needed time out so I went to Suva for the afternoon and found myself having a coffee and a chat with Vili. He has lived in New Zealand so he can appreciate the frustrations I have been succumbing to. However, in Fiji, all is not lost. He told me that Fijians fear change. They do not believe in themselves to instigate change. Halleluiah! Am I hearing you brother! It explains a lot. Fijians don't like conflict. They don't like saying no, so they omit,evade and avoid at all costs. It drives me nuts.
Anyhow, he asked me if I had a laptop. I said 'Yes, but its back in Votua. Do you need something typed? I am a fast typer.'
Within minutes I had half the special investigations team in Phyllis, an American's car, and they were sorting out her land and business issues for free on the way down to the Coral Coast.
The report to be typed is called 'Collusion in High Places' and addresses the issues of corruption by an elite handful who have made a packet out of Fiji. One of my friend's has been involved in a land dispute and was wrongfully deported two months a go, not by the Immigration department but by the Resort which did not like his imput. It would make a good movie. He was arrested on a Friday evening around 6 pm and was immediately handcuffed. No one showed him ID. His colleague had enough time to throw a bag of stuff together and he was whisked away to Suva for a night. One of his captors was a local policeman. Handsomely paid no doubt. Anyhow, the next day, his captors brought kava and offered him a bowl as an apology for taking him. He was not allowed access to a telephone. He was taken to the airport terminal and the ticket was in an envelope marked with the name of the resort..... Jesus.
Anyhow, his testimony is evidence for this report on corruption in high places and explains the methods used by foreign investors, corrupt government ministers and even corrupt lawyers to railroad the local landowners, pay them a pittance and reap huge financial rewards.
My heart was in my mouth as I read it. My blood boiled over occasionally as I was typing and I had to stop and let out an expletive or two. Vili sat beside me writing as I was typing and then read it out loud as I typed away. It was an exhilerating experience. Not only was I helping a friend, but I was one step away from the commodore, as this report should have been presented to parliament this week.
It feel good to be doing something that is real. I have been chasing my tail for the last month trying to get the Beach Bure Bar on the road and nothing. I also need to state that in the last month we have had a group wedding six or seven couples from the village, marrying on the same day. In Fiji you have a civil ceremony and when you can afford it you hold the village wedding. A group wedding makes economic sense at this time, when many have no jobs. The preparations go on for a week. Then old aunty who was 92 died in her bed on a Saturday morning. Another week of preparations, with much kava, and much boy talk; the women are left at home. Then there are visits from the University of the South Pacific to discuss a water project. Then Chita is on the Korolevu Wai ( water) committee and has a job checking the meter on a daily basis. Then there is the plantation to be cleared, the beach to be raked, the grass outside the beach bure bar to be cut and before you know it a month has gone by...
I have been working as a tutor to two Australian couples whose children are being home schooled. Have just found out today that one of the families has bought a farm and is returning to Albury so my services are no longer required.
The last month has been food for thought. Business here is a long slow process. My idea of getting the cafe open and starting a woodfired oven have not happened. I need a job to stay. I keep applying but they have to be offered to Fijians first or the salary scale is too low and most businesses think I would not be interested. It looks like I might have to come back to Australia for an injection of good food, hot water, clean clothes, and maybe extra cash in my pocket. Its not what I wanted, but money leaches from my pocket here.
There are family bills to be contributed to, family celebrations to be contributed to, weekly food bill and transport.
I finally got Joe's wife Natalie to agree to bring him to Amelia, the mother's house for a meeting on Tuesday. The day dawned and we had visitors from USP at the house so I was busy cooking and told Chita to send a message and ask to postpone it as reception when it rains is not great. He gets a call around 8.30 asking for our whereabouts. Wednesday night, he turns to me, 'are we still going down to see Joe?' of course we bloody are, I felt like saying but just nodded. We arrive at the house to find that there has been no water for three days, so Natalie and Joe had taken their smelly nephew back to the hotel for a bath. Chita disappears for a smoke and I wait. 8.00 Joe and Natalie arrive. No sign of Chita. I ring him and tell him to come. Sometimes my patience is sorely tested.
We sit down for the meeting and Natalie basically lets the boys have it. It was a mistake to build the cafe there without a lease. We agreed to set up a milk bar initially with funds from Chita's superannuation. Joe and Chita both agreed to take Uncle and go and see the landowner to see if we can get the lease papers signed. It was supposed to be the next day. Yes Amanda, we are going.
I send Chita a text saying' hope it goes well'. I ring him after work only to discover the meeting was postponed because of an Easter ritual - fasting from four am to 4 p.m. I could roll my eyes and curse, but by now I am used to it.
Last night after dinner Chita went down to the village again to discuss the strategy for getting Isoa to sign. I have not seen him today yet. There is a fifty fifty chance it may have happened. I will wait until I hear.
Back to me. I am losing weight from walking up and down a steep hill everyday. I am feeling fit. I am loving not wearing tight fitting clothes. I am loving cooking and baking.
I just get lonely sometimes and miss my girlfriends. When you live with all guys, they are a sometimes talkative and sometimes very quiet lot. Chita talks to Joe in Fijian. If its a long conversation its either about rugby or fishing or farming.
I am in Suva for the weekend to escape the village and be alone with my man. He will stay up late of course to watch the HongKong 7's and I will wander around the shops, have a coffee and cake somewhere and do girlie things.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Fiji Time!
I can't believe it has been nearly two weeks since I wrote my last blog. In Australia I was on the computer everyday and checking my emails several times a day. Welcome to Fiji where internet access is limited, slow, and probably not working. I have tried to use the hotel's email but a virus got into the system this week. A hillside neighbour has wireless and it only functions early in the morning or late at night. If I go into Suva or Sigatoka I have to pay heaps.
I have been trying to get things moving with the business but I am being hampered by family hierachy, family priorities and Chita's resistance to get moving. We have a potential land dispute on our hands which may seem scary for Australians but is every day life now in the cleaned up Fiji. I would like to get a lease signed by the landowner,however, he does not read or write and does not trust paper. He also prefers to keep his hand out constantly and expects to be helped. I don't want to go full hog into the cafe and find we are paying rent and gifts to keep going. We need a few grand to open but without a lease we can't get a bank loan. Grants are available from the government but that is also a go slow area as the budget was only released last week.
Chita is pushing me to quit even trying and just head back to Australia and take him with me. This is something I can't think about. I am an A type personality. I came to do a job and I am going to do my darndest to get it happening. I optimistically thought I would have everything researched and ready. Builders finishing off and we would be earning an income within six months. Hmmmm.
The reality has hit. I need to get a job. The economy is depressed and not much is being advertised in the paper. What is on offer will be paid Fiji wages. At this point I don't really mind, as any sort of cash will do... I am slowly becoming Fijian. I applied for a job with the Australian government as a small business advisor. I had my interview and was told my cv was exceptional and I was more than capable of doing the job, however it was given to a Fijian..... Frustrating. The salary was $27,000 Aust which is a middle income wage here...
Am also trying to liaise with the family. I need to get a meeting organised with the family and the landowner. I have one of the advisors for the anti- corruption board on side offering to act as a mediator. However, the family are resisting. It is their land which was signed over to this landowner by a trick. It is not theirs on paper, but to the village, yes. That is enough for them but not enough for me.
I have to be careful as women do not have all that much say. It has to go through the head of the family or the eldest brother. Chita's eldest brother is never around so I am pushing for Joe to act.
In the meantime my funds are disappearing and my desire to get a job, earn some cash and have some choices about what to do on weekends is high. I did not come to Fiji to be a housegirl and cook and clean. I need a project. Anyone got anything for me? I am desperate.
Chita and I are getting on well. Fijian relationships between men and women are different to us. They don't talk much, and fulfil clearly understood roles. I find that the Fijian male has a full life, of meetings, family functions and rugby, whereas the women are at home, or if they work in the hotels, they are out partying and picking up. I fall into neither category. I love cooking and being a homemaker but I also miss interesting and stimulating female company. Last night I wanted to visit a neighbour and discovered the torch was missing. I couldn't head down the hill in the rain without one, as I would end up sliding down the hill on my ample backside. Although, weeks of going up and down the steep hill, has tightened up my gluteus maximus.
Its an interesting plight I face. A career girl for so long and now I am in limited circumstances. I understand now why Fijian girls have babies. It gives you something to do. Have told Chita, a baby could be my new project... I try and give myself treats - a frozen yoghurt once a week at a Hawaian ice cream parlour in Pacific Harbour. I walk down the beach and end up having chats with the ladies at the Handicraft. I chat to Melania,who was the first ever policewoman in Fiji. We talked about a Fijian pumpkin dessert she is going to show me how to make.
I am trying to keep fit. I am trying to be positive. I am trying. Every other day, I give it all up, and give in to Fiji Time. I forget about deadlines and targets and go with the flow. I sit on the bus daydreaming. I chat to the van or taxi drivers about life, I walk for no reason anywhere. I read the paper everyday and keep up with Fijian affairs. I have an afternoon nap. I feel great afterwards and cook and clean with gusto. I find australian dvd's to listen to aussie accents and thoroughly enjoyed watching Jindabyne on my own yesterday afternoon.
With Chita, its the everyday that is the glue between us. I am less likely to have a hissy fit these days, as I have a better understanding of Fijian culture. Do I have a place here? Can I make a valuable contribution? Will I always be a European or kavalagi and never a kaiviti ( local)....
I think, ponder, let go....
I try and make contact with any female in the vicinity - a sixty year old American ex alcoholic who has taken up AA in Fiji with a vengeance, a sweet Christian American girl who lives in Lautoka and has been a missionary for eight years, An Italian who smokes too much dope and accidentally gave part of a cookie to her two year old son; Yes I will talk to anyone...
I visit Chita's mum once a week and fill her in on a week's worth of gossip. I contribute by paying for a fare for her somewhere, buy washing powder or food, and help with the electricity bill. In Fiji its care and share. I like this aspect very much.
I have been trying to get things moving with the business but I am being hampered by family hierachy, family priorities and Chita's resistance to get moving. We have a potential land dispute on our hands which may seem scary for Australians but is every day life now in the cleaned up Fiji. I would like to get a lease signed by the landowner,however, he does not read or write and does not trust paper. He also prefers to keep his hand out constantly and expects to be helped. I don't want to go full hog into the cafe and find we are paying rent and gifts to keep going. We need a few grand to open but without a lease we can't get a bank loan. Grants are available from the government but that is also a go slow area as the budget was only released last week.
Chita is pushing me to quit even trying and just head back to Australia and take him with me. This is something I can't think about. I am an A type personality. I came to do a job and I am going to do my darndest to get it happening. I optimistically thought I would have everything researched and ready. Builders finishing off and we would be earning an income within six months. Hmmmm.
The reality has hit. I need to get a job. The economy is depressed and not much is being advertised in the paper. What is on offer will be paid Fiji wages. At this point I don't really mind, as any sort of cash will do... I am slowly becoming Fijian. I applied for a job with the Australian government as a small business advisor. I had my interview and was told my cv was exceptional and I was more than capable of doing the job, however it was given to a Fijian..... Frustrating. The salary was $27,000 Aust which is a middle income wage here...
Am also trying to liaise with the family. I need to get a meeting organised with the family and the landowner. I have one of the advisors for the anti- corruption board on side offering to act as a mediator. However, the family are resisting. It is their land which was signed over to this landowner by a trick. It is not theirs on paper, but to the village, yes. That is enough for them but not enough for me.
I have to be careful as women do not have all that much say. It has to go through the head of the family or the eldest brother. Chita's eldest brother is never around so I am pushing for Joe to act.
In the meantime my funds are disappearing and my desire to get a job, earn some cash and have some choices about what to do on weekends is high. I did not come to Fiji to be a housegirl and cook and clean. I need a project. Anyone got anything for me? I am desperate.
Chita and I are getting on well. Fijian relationships between men and women are different to us. They don't talk much, and fulfil clearly understood roles. I find that the Fijian male has a full life, of meetings, family functions and rugby, whereas the women are at home, or if they work in the hotels, they are out partying and picking up. I fall into neither category. I love cooking and being a homemaker but I also miss interesting and stimulating female company. Last night I wanted to visit a neighbour and discovered the torch was missing. I couldn't head down the hill in the rain without one, as I would end up sliding down the hill on my ample backside. Although, weeks of going up and down the steep hill, has tightened up my gluteus maximus.
Its an interesting plight I face. A career girl for so long and now I am in limited circumstances. I understand now why Fijian girls have babies. It gives you something to do. Have told Chita, a baby could be my new project... I try and give myself treats - a frozen yoghurt once a week at a Hawaian ice cream parlour in Pacific Harbour. I walk down the beach and end up having chats with the ladies at the Handicraft. I chat to Melania,who was the first ever policewoman in Fiji. We talked about a Fijian pumpkin dessert she is going to show me how to make.
I am trying to keep fit. I am trying to be positive. I am trying. Every other day, I give it all up, and give in to Fiji Time. I forget about deadlines and targets and go with the flow. I sit on the bus daydreaming. I chat to the van or taxi drivers about life, I walk for no reason anywhere. I read the paper everyday and keep up with Fijian affairs. I have an afternoon nap. I feel great afterwards and cook and clean with gusto. I find australian dvd's to listen to aussie accents and thoroughly enjoyed watching Jindabyne on my own yesterday afternoon.
With Chita, its the everyday that is the glue between us. I am less likely to have a hissy fit these days, as I have a better understanding of Fijian culture. Do I have a place here? Can I make a valuable contribution? Will I always be a European or kavalagi and never a kaiviti ( local)....
I think, ponder, let go....
I try and make contact with any female in the vicinity - a sixty year old American ex alcoholic who has taken up AA in Fiji with a vengeance, a sweet Christian American girl who lives in Lautoka and has been a missionary for eight years, An Italian who smokes too much dope and accidentally gave part of a cookie to her two year old son; Yes I will talk to anyone...
I visit Chita's mum once a week and fill her in on a week's worth of gossip. I contribute by paying for a fare for her somewhere, buy washing powder or food, and help with the electricity bill. In Fiji its care and share. I like this aspect very much.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Funiculi Funicula!
Sorry I haven't written for a while, life has been hectic and access to the internet is limited for me. Life out of the village up on the hill in a European's house with running water (hot and cold) and electricity even though I keep getting zapped when I turn the switch hanging out of the wall in the kitchen is closer to my concept of normal. We have even set up Village 6 cinemas with dvd's borrowed from a dvd addict here and a projector with screen and speakers to watch movies every night. No tv, so we listen to the radio.
Have just about hit the point of frustration where I need to sign up for a course of Fijian. It is spoken 24/7 around me and I know less than fifty words. I miss out on lots of conversation and being the chatty social person I am, that is frustration absolute. I have discovered the Alliance Francaise does Fijian lessons. So if I get this job, organise my own work permit and start getting paid something closer to a normal salary, I should be able to sign up.
Chita's brother's wife is having twins. According to Fijian tradition, the children of the oldest son must be honoured with gifts. I rustled up $40 to buy kerosene. I don't have a work permit so Chita is paranoid that one of the jealous villagers will dob me in to Immigration and I will be deported. We already have one friend who was deported a couple of weeks a go for being involved in a land dispute. I therefore was not invited to the ceremony on Friday night. On Saturday morning I dropped into the village and was invited for dinner, but wasn't feeling well. On Sunday there seemed to be more kava happening. I blew a head gasket. I did not come to Fiji to sit alone everynight. I am not here to be just a house girl and cook. Had a huge discussion with Chita and we have worked out our frustrations. Me pushing my way into his life, being a kavalagi who have a history of taking over ( the British colonization of Fiji) and a discussion of whether we have a future or not.
It was a chance for me to get my personal frustrations off my chest. I am supporting the household, doing all the cooking and working. I do not even get quality time with my beloved. He is too busy fulfilling obligations to the village. I did not realise that when you fall for a Fijian guy you also get a whole village as well.
A friend from Suva, told me once " You can take the boy out of the village, but you can't take the village out of the boy"
Didn't know what that meant until now. I have applied for a job, got an interview on Wednesday and hopefully will know future directions.
This week has been a group wedding in the village. Six or seven couples who have had a civil ceremony, have children even, but need to have a church wedding. It was the talk of the coast. I found out at 10 pm on Sunday night that Chita was best man for one of the couples and I knew nothing about it. I have a series of moments where I take deep breaths and try to remain calm. So Monday Chita was off to Sigatoka to sign the forms for the civil ceremony for one couple who hadn't done it. Thursday was the wedding. I arrived at the end of the wedding ceremony in the Methodist church and soaked up the fabulous male choir. I then went back to Chita's mums house and met one of the housekeeper's from the Pearl, who I see everyday. We are related. As Chita's future spouse apparently, everyone works out their relationship to me. Pana calls me sister in law, and Asenaca calls me cousin.
I spent Wednesday afternoon having a Betty Crocker bake off and making bread. I made white loaves, two fruit loaves and banana bread which instantly disappeared.
Last night Chita appears around 6 pm kava doped, showers then disappears to the village for another bash. Home around 9 pm to devour food, as he has not eaten all day. He has a pretty bad cold that started a week or so a go and funnily enough is still lingering.
I had to get up at 6 am this morning. Walk down the hill. Walk 30 minutes along the road to Korolevu, then cross the bridge, step down onto the beach, follow the curve of the bay at full tide, up to my knees in salt water and waded around the beach to the Warwick Hotel, to get some money out of the ATM. I then went to the souvenir shopt to buy a paper to change a $20 so I could get $4 exactly for my van fare to Pacific Harbour. All this before 8 am.
I sat outside the Warwick on a stone wall and had the good fortune to be picked up by an airconditioned car. Deluxe. He turned the air conditioning up so I could cool down and my beetroot features could return to normal. All for the princely price of $4. Oh how my life has changed.
Am gathering a set of dvd's for a weekend of viewing if it rains. If it is as gloriously sunny as it was yesterday I will be at the beach, swimming, snorkelling and strolling.
Have just about hit the point of frustration where I need to sign up for a course of Fijian. It is spoken 24/7 around me and I know less than fifty words. I miss out on lots of conversation and being the chatty social person I am, that is frustration absolute. I have discovered the Alliance Francaise does Fijian lessons. So if I get this job, organise my own work permit and start getting paid something closer to a normal salary, I should be able to sign up.
Chita's brother's wife is having twins. According to Fijian tradition, the children of the oldest son must be honoured with gifts. I rustled up $40 to buy kerosene. I don't have a work permit so Chita is paranoid that one of the jealous villagers will dob me in to Immigration and I will be deported. We already have one friend who was deported a couple of weeks a go for being involved in a land dispute. I therefore was not invited to the ceremony on Friday night. On Saturday morning I dropped into the village and was invited for dinner, but wasn't feeling well. On Sunday there seemed to be more kava happening. I blew a head gasket. I did not come to Fiji to sit alone everynight. I am not here to be just a house girl and cook. Had a huge discussion with Chita and we have worked out our frustrations. Me pushing my way into his life, being a kavalagi who have a history of taking over ( the British colonization of Fiji) and a discussion of whether we have a future or not.
It was a chance for me to get my personal frustrations off my chest. I am supporting the household, doing all the cooking and working. I do not even get quality time with my beloved. He is too busy fulfilling obligations to the village. I did not realise that when you fall for a Fijian guy you also get a whole village as well.
A friend from Suva, told me once " You can take the boy out of the village, but you can't take the village out of the boy"
Didn't know what that meant until now. I have applied for a job, got an interview on Wednesday and hopefully will know future directions.
This week has been a group wedding in the village. Six or seven couples who have had a civil ceremony, have children even, but need to have a church wedding. It was the talk of the coast. I found out at 10 pm on Sunday night that Chita was best man for one of the couples and I knew nothing about it. I have a series of moments where I take deep breaths and try to remain calm. So Monday Chita was off to Sigatoka to sign the forms for the civil ceremony for one couple who hadn't done it. Thursday was the wedding. I arrived at the end of the wedding ceremony in the Methodist church and soaked up the fabulous male choir. I then went back to Chita's mums house and met one of the housekeeper's from the Pearl, who I see everyday. We are related. As Chita's future spouse apparently, everyone works out their relationship to me. Pana calls me sister in law, and Asenaca calls me cousin.
I spent Wednesday afternoon having a Betty Crocker bake off and making bread. I made white loaves, two fruit loaves and banana bread which instantly disappeared.
Last night Chita appears around 6 pm kava doped, showers then disappears to the village for another bash. Home around 9 pm to devour food, as he has not eaten all day. He has a pretty bad cold that started a week or so a go and funnily enough is still lingering.
I had to get up at 6 am this morning. Walk down the hill. Walk 30 minutes along the road to Korolevu, then cross the bridge, step down onto the beach, follow the curve of the bay at full tide, up to my knees in salt water and waded around the beach to the Warwick Hotel, to get some money out of the ATM. I then went to the souvenir shopt to buy a paper to change a $20 so I could get $4 exactly for my van fare to Pacific Harbour. All this before 8 am.
I sat outside the Warwick on a stone wall and had the good fortune to be picked up by an airconditioned car. Deluxe. He turned the air conditioning up so I could cool down and my beetroot features could return to normal. All for the princely price of $4. Oh how my life has changed.
Am gathering a set of dvd's for a weekend of viewing if it rains. If it is as gloriously sunny as it was yesterday I will be at the beach, swimming, snorkelling and strolling.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
On again Off again
Had a family meeting last night and discussed the opening of the cafe. Yes it is going to happen. Chita and I have had chats. So much energy and effort has gone into the building, that it seems pointless not to get it going and get something in return for our efforts.
I am dealing with a culture which has no concept of time. Things are said to me and I sit here wondering whether they mean today, tomorrow, never or maybe. Its been a frustrating time. I have given Chita an ultimatum ( which means absolutely nothing to him but everything to me) to get the cafe open as a small milkbar as soon as possible.
I have had a win. In Suva last week I meet a cousin who is on the anti corruption board and is also going to advise me on how to get a work permit. Its who you know here.
I spoke to Natalie, who works at the Naviti Hotel, and is Joe (Chita's brothers' wife) about what we can do to push these men forward. She is going to get me contact details for bricks, a vocational unit in Suva that makes cheap chairs and tables, and I am somehow going to get the electricity and water on by the end of February.
I have decided that too much information is not good for a Fijian male. They process one thing at a time and sit on that until its done. It drives me nuts but that's the way it is.
I have now developed the method of sneakily planning, organising and networking quietly and will present everything I have done as a fait accomplis.
I need a return on my investment, I can show him how to start budgeting and saving money. What a challenge!
Its not that they don't want to but somehow daily life gets in the way. Its been a challenging, frustrating and culturally different experience for me.
Living here has developed a gentle rhythm and I am up at 6 or 6.30 at the latest everyday. I am eating simply, exercising everyday and never lonely. I came here to find a way to bridge two cultures and make a business and relationship work. A huge challenge and we are still talking to each other so something must be going right.
I will keep you posted.
I am dealing with a culture which has no concept of time. Things are said to me and I sit here wondering whether they mean today, tomorrow, never or maybe. Its been a frustrating time. I have given Chita an ultimatum ( which means absolutely nothing to him but everything to me) to get the cafe open as a small milkbar as soon as possible.
I have had a win. In Suva last week I meet a cousin who is on the anti corruption board and is also going to advise me on how to get a work permit. Its who you know here.
I spoke to Natalie, who works at the Naviti Hotel, and is Joe (Chita's brothers' wife) about what we can do to push these men forward. She is going to get me contact details for bricks, a vocational unit in Suva that makes cheap chairs and tables, and I am somehow going to get the electricity and water on by the end of February.
I have decided that too much information is not good for a Fijian male. They process one thing at a time and sit on that until its done. It drives me nuts but that's the way it is.
I have now developed the method of sneakily planning, organising and networking quietly and will present everything I have done as a fait accomplis.
I need a return on my investment, I can show him how to start budgeting and saving money. What a challenge!
Its not that they don't want to but somehow daily life gets in the way. Its been a challenging, frustrating and culturally different experience for me.
Living here has developed a gentle rhythm and I am up at 6 or 6.30 at the latest everyday. I am eating simply, exercising everyday and never lonely. I came here to find a way to bridge two cultures and make a business and relationship work. A huge challenge and we are still talking to each other so something must be going right.
I will keep you posted.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Unexpected circumstances!
Last week was challenging to say the least.We had a huge fight. Its always over something trivial which has an underlying serious significance. A funeral took place in the village over the last week, revealed to me by Chita as we walked back to village and he is berating me yet again for my state of dress. I had a sulu and a tank top, which in seemingly 40 + degrees is the very least, but my bare arms were offending all and sundry. He told me off in front of his close friend Joe, whose downcast eyes indicated his embarassment. I entered the house and let fly.
My response was:
I have just walked past your two aunties, both bare armed and I am not going to put up with your controlling behaviour anymore.
Chita storms off to have a bath, then returns and apologises, but when I realised the underlying pressure upon him, I can understand why he has been so paranoid. The land on which our cafe is built is Chita's family land. However, some years a go (time is always unclear in Fiji) the land was signed over to another family - the usurpers. Unfortunately the current Mayor of the village ( an usurper) is collaborating with one or some of the village elders to basically graft whatever he can. Money for a water project has disappeared, the village ownership of Mike's Dives has somehow mysteriously been signed over to him, he received payment for lease of a house to an American, and no documentation exists and he has asked again for the full amount, and another American marine biologist has been threatened with payments to the usurping landowner but luckily his paperwork does exist and cannot be touched. This blackmailing, bullying, constantly asking for money, and no accountability is unfortunately the new Fiji. Its the old Fiji that has developed a corrupt culture which has forgotten its 'share and care' mentality and basically rips off both the ignorant and unaware indiginous people as well as the kavalagi.
I have had a week of being the Fijian 'wife' who has to cook for three males: Pele, Walai and Chita every night, and make interesting meals from 2-3 ingredients.I have started the budget so its bottom of the fridge meals for big eaters this week.
Chita's mum Melia has gone to Nabutini to be with Chita's sister who has just had a baby. I had a hire car two weeks a go so I took Melia into the hospital and met Lasaro the new edition to the Tubuna household. He's a creamy caffe latte colour and very alert.
The funeral took over the life of the village. I came home to find the men of the village carrying poles and sheets of tin to construct a room on the village green. From the first night, the clanging sound of the kava being pounded rang in my ears. I cooked dinner on Tuesday night, and had just sat down with Chita to eat, when the door opened and a stream of a dozen or so Fijian men poured in.
ring your food and sit on the floor and eat.
I took one look and escaped to the bedroom, Chita pulling an extension cord behind me so I could watch a dvd. I was relegated to the bedroom. I did not even have time to get my chicken soup. I fell asleep and woke up around 6 am to see Chita whispering
'If you want a coffee, better go and make one, while everyone is still asleep'
I tiptoed around the sea of sleeping males, and sat on the backstep drinking. Had no idea what had gone on, what was going on, and when I asked Chita, he replied
'I will tell you later.'
I got a message from a friendly marine biologist asking me for a lunch of pasta and I flew up the hill, ravenous, and wanting to find out what had gone on. Apparently, as Chita is the youngest son, he can be called by one of the elders to man the kava bowl all night; which he did. One of his uncles had told him that ' a group would be sleeping in the house' and everyone obeys the Fijian hierarchy without question.
Being a European (anyone who is not Fijian)means being overcharged on a daily basis. I have had the frustrating experience of catching vans and buses to my job in Pacific Harbour everyday for a week. I have realised that the only way to not be ripped off, is to basically work out what I am prepared to pay, and go to the bank, and change $40 Fijian dollars into $2 notes so that I am ready for the daily onslaught. If I have no change I get charged $5 instead of $4. I spend $40 a week on transport just to get to work and back and its more than I spent on petrol back in Australia for a week.
Its been a big week of making some serious decisions. I came here all fired up to set up a woodfired bakery and make pizza, pane, biscotti and torte for eager tourists wanting fresh food, and unfortunately our business in its current state of 'no lease' will fall victim to constant handouts, free meals, and donations to whatever. We can't afford it and I don't think I could stand it. Its sad really. Chita's enthusiasm is inspiring but even he has just had enough.
We both can't face opening this business.
Its a turning point for him and I. One I did not expect at all. I thought I was here to set up a business, make enough money to build a house and create a tropical lifestyle for myself. However, that has been put on hold. I am now backing off from my bakery project for at least a year, and with a wait and see attitude.
Its disappointing but I am oh so glad, we talked about it before we opened. We are both unhappy about it but he is exhausted from setting it up and just wants to escape.
I am happy to spend the next few months in Fiji working out our relationship, working part-time at the Pearl, swiming, exercising and relaxing.
I am still optimistic we can get the cafe going, but not right now. He needs a break and we need to get to know each other without the stress of a business on our shoulders. He has also been worrying about how to protect me from the bad elements of the village and now he does not have to worry.
Last night we lay on mats on the porch at the front of his mother's house. It was the first time he had ever done it. Changes are a foot. The house has been as hot as Hades for the last couple of weeks, so we are now lounging outside on our own.... Major change...
My response was:
I have just walked past your two aunties, both bare armed and I am not going to put up with your controlling behaviour anymore.
Chita storms off to have a bath, then returns and apologises, but when I realised the underlying pressure upon him, I can understand why he has been so paranoid. The land on which our cafe is built is Chita's family land. However, some years a go (time is always unclear in Fiji) the land was signed over to another family - the usurpers. Unfortunately the current Mayor of the village ( an usurper) is collaborating with one or some of the village elders to basically graft whatever he can. Money for a water project has disappeared, the village ownership of Mike's Dives has somehow mysteriously been signed over to him, he received payment for lease of a house to an American, and no documentation exists and he has asked again for the full amount, and another American marine biologist has been threatened with payments to the usurping landowner but luckily his paperwork does exist and cannot be touched. This blackmailing, bullying, constantly asking for money, and no accountability is unfortunately the new Fiji. Its the old Fiji that has developed a corrupt culture which has forgotten its 'share and care' mentality and basically rips off both the ignorant and unaware indiginous people as well as the kavalagi.
I have had a week of being the Fijian 'wife' who has to cook for three males: Pele, Walai and Chita every night, and make interesting meals from 2-3 ingredients.I have started the budget so its bottom of the fridge meals for big eaters this week.
Chita's mum Melia has gone to Nabutini to be with Chita's sister who has just had a baby. I had a hire car two weeks a go so I took Melia into the hospital and met Lasaro the new edition to the Tubuna household. He's a creamy caffe latte colour and very alert.
The funeral took over the life of the village. I came home to find the men of the village carrying poles and sheets of tin to construct a room on the village green. From the first night, the clanging sound of the kava being pounded rang in my ears. I cooked dinner on Tuesday night, and had just sat down with Chita to eat, when the door opened and a stream of a dozen or so Fijian men poured in.
ring your food and sit on the floor and eat.
I took one look and escaped to the bedroom, Chita pulling an extension cord behind me so I could watch a dvd. I was relegated to the bedroom. I did not even have time to get my chicken soup. I fell asleep and woke up around 6 am to see Chita whispering
'If you want a coffee, better go and make one, while everyone is still asleep'
I tiptoed around the sea of sleeping males, and sat on the backstep drinking. Had no idea what had gone on, what was going on, and when I asked Chita, he replied
'I will tell you later.'
I got a message from a friendly marine biologist asking me for a lunch of pasta and I flew up the hill, ravenous, and wanting to find out what had gone on. Apparently, as Chita is the youngest son, he can be called by one of the elders to man the kava bowl all night; which he did. One of his uncles had told him that ' a group would be sleeping in the house' and everyone obeys the Fijian hierarchy without question.
Being a European (anyone who is not Fijian)means being overcharged on a daily basis. I have had the frustrating experience of catching vans and buses to my job in Pacific Harbour everyday for a week. I have realised that the only way to not be ripped off, is to basically work out what I am prepared to pay, and go to the bank, and change $40 Fijian dollars into $2 notes so that I am ready for the daily onslaught. If I have no change I get charged $5 instead of $4. I spend $40 a week on transport just to get to work and back and its more than I spent on petrol back in Australia for a week.
Its been a big week of making some serious decisions. I came here all fired up to set up a woodfired bakery and make pizza, pane, biscotti and torte for eager tourists wanting fresh food, and unfortunately our business in its current state of 'no lease' will fall victim to constant handouts, free meals, and donations to whatever. We can't afford it and I don't think I could stand it. Its sad really. Chita's enthusiasm is inspiring but even he has just had enough.
We both can't face opening this business.
Its a turning point for him and I. One I did not expect at all. I thought I was here to set up a business, make enough money to build a house and create a tropical lifestyle for myself. However, that has been put on hold. I am now backing off from my bakery project for at least a year, and with a wait and see attitude.
Its disappointing but I am oh so glad, we talked about it before we opened. We are both unhappy about it but he is exhausted from setting it up and just wants to escape.
I am happy to spend the next few months in Fiji working out our relationship, working part-time at the Pearl, swiming, exercising and relaxing.
I am still optimistic we can get the cafe going, but not right now. He needs a break and we need to get to know each other without the stress of a business on our shoulders. He has also been worrying about how to protect me from the bad elements of the village and now he does not have to worry.
Last night we lay on mats on the porch at the front of his mother's house. It was the first time he had ever done it. Changes are a foot. The house has been as hot as Hades for the last couple of weeks, so we are now lounging outside on our own.... Major change...
Sunday, January 28, 2007
The Pearl
What a week! I have adjusted to village life somewhat but there are things that can get on an Aussie girl's nerves. Like meal times. I love to cook. I love to feed a crowd. I love to sit down and immerse myself in convivial chat and have a good time. The bane of my life this week has been cooking meals and having no one turn up on time. I sit and wait, while food congeals or dries up and I am not happy Jan. In Fiji, the women prepare meals each evening but do not have a bloody clue when their men will show. Maybe they are having a chat along the road with someone; maybe they are at an important village meeting; maybe they are drinking kava; maybe they are sitting on the deck talking; and maybe just maybe I am fed up with this arrangement. Fijians arrive for a meal, either sit at a table, but more commonly along a long rectangular cloth on the floor, and turn over a plate, fill it up, eat in silence and leave. No bloody fun for me!
I have also adjusted to washing in cold water using an outdoor sink. It takes me three hours, as I soap up, scrub with a brush on a wooden board I found ( and wasn't quite sure what to do with it so I just rest my washing on top and scrub away. I then remove a 10 foot bamboo pole holding up the clothes line, lowering it to my height. Place the clothes on the line with pegs and then hoist it back up to tree height. Was so proud of myself to see an array of nearly clean washing, only to turn my back and go back to the sink for more, and hear 'splat! splat! splat! as clothes fell to the ground. I realised that the plastic pegs that Fijians use require the peg to be locked into place or otherwise they fall off.
Its been stinking hot and nights of sleeping in the front room of a concrete house which receives the full blast of the sun. I toss and turn, my bedding heats up, my pillows heat up, and my head heats to an unbearable temperature so I wake up, move and try to find a cool spot. Have spent the last few nights having a bucket bath before bedtime.
I have a new part time job while I am waiting for the boys to finish with the bar. The deck or should I say 'dick extension' is finally finished. Looks amazing and if I want to find Chita, he is always there at sunset with whoever wants to have a chat. This week its doors on hinges, a splash of paint, pipes in place for the sink, and a deal to be made with Mikes Divers for using electricity.
I started my new job this morning. I woke up at six am, bucket bath, getting dressed, watching Chita leap from the bed beside me going ' Amanda' then realising I am awake already and promptly falling asleep again. We are living at his mum's so its respect all the way, and separate beds are us. I don't mind at all as I heat up like a furnace and need all the space I can create around myself to keep cool.
I made a coffee and sat contemplating until 7 am. A stroll to the road to join the queue of school children in gleaming white shirts and grey sulus, with pristine backpacks on their backs ( its the first week of school here) and I try to flag down a van.
The art of catching a van in Fiji is tricky as I still haven't identified the vans that only go to the nearest village on either side, and the suva- lautoka vans, or the food vans. I missed a fast van, and then waited for the bus. While I was talking to Di and Vive waiting to catch the bus, I missed another van. I then got my finger out at the right time and caught a van with an Indian driver. I am not racist, but with an Indian driver and me being white or kavalangi I knew I was going to have to pay more. In fact a $4 ride turned into $5. Have to go to the bank this afternoon and get change for the week, so I just shove the right amount into the driver's hand. I am on a budget.
I arrive at The Pearl, at 8.30 and decide to walk down to the beach. Sit on a chair overlooking the water and close my eyes for five minutes and get a grip.
Its been a busy morning as Donna, Michaela and Gaby and I move all the resources into a hotel room which will become our classroom. I am teaching 5 mornings a week, with access to internet whenever I need it. Yippee! Otherwise I have to catch a van to Sigatoka and pay $10+ for the slowest broadband ever.
I have planned our lessons and have got my head around the NSW version of outcome statements. I have the afternoons to pursue my woodfired oven project. The boys have told me they can build it. I just have to get the bricks. I can't wait to cook in an oven which is actually hot. Tried to make pikelets yesterday on a kerosene stove but with no sizzle it was hard to get them to be light, fluffy and browned, instead of uncooked gluey missiles.
I am also on a diet and have started steaming and boiling as everything here is fried. No wonder the Fijian ladies ass is so wide. They eat last, hoover up everything that has not been eaten and its all deeply drenched in oil or coconut oil.
Chita made the classic mistake of not thinking before he opened his mouth yesterday. We arrived back from Suva in the heat of the day, and he asked me to cook lunch. I came up with chicken drumsticks in a tomato salsa with zucchini, guacamole and fried white sweet potato chips. Cooking the sweet potatoes was a mistake in 36 degrees with a stove that takes all bloody day to heat up. I sat on a chair, hovering over the pot and sweating buckets. Chita came in hungry and tried to rush the cooking.
Its done.
No its not.
Then as he started eating he said 'There's always some flavour missing from your cooking'
I took his plate and told him 'You don't have to eat it'
He was about to continue, when he took one look at my face and said
Okay okay.
I burst out with 'No chilli or curry powder in this'
You are rude to talk about food like that, when someone has sweated buckets to make that food for you.
He took one look at my trembling top lip and went to the fridge and poured me a glass of water.
Later that evening, just before bed time he turns to me and says, I just want to say, Thank you again Amanda for the lovely dinner.
He will have to adjust to the delicate flavours of boiled and steamed food as there will be plenty more...
I have also adjusted to washing in cold water using an outdoor sink. It takes me three hours, as I soap up, scrub with a brush on a wooden board I found ( and wasn't quite sure what to do with it so I just rest my washing on top and scrub away. I then remove a 10 foot bamboo pole holding up the clothes line, lowering it to my height. Place the clothes on the line with pegs and then hoist it back up to tree height. Was so proud of myself to see an array of nearly clean washing, only to turn my back and go back to the sink for more, and hear 'splat! splat! splat! as clothes fell to the ground. I realised that the plastic pegs that Fijians use require the peg to be locked into place or otherwise they fall off.
Its been stinking hot and nights of sleeping in the front room of a concrete house which receives the full blast of the sun. I toss and turn, my bedding heats up, my pillows heat up, and my head heats to an unbearable temperature so I wake up, move and try to find a cool spot. Have spent the last few nights having a bucket bath before bedtime.
I have a new part time job while I am waiting for the boys to finish with the bar. The deck or should I say 'dick extension' is finally finished. Looks amazing and if I want to find Chita, he is always there at sunset with whoever wants to have a chat. This week its doors on hinges, a splash of paint, pipes in place for the sink, and a deal to be made with Mikes Divers for using electricity.
I started my new job this morning. I woke up at six am, bucket bath, getting dressed, watching Chita leap from the bed beside me going ' Amanda' then realising I am awake already and promptly falling asleep again. We are living at his mum's so its respect all the way, and separate beds are us. I don't mind at all as I heat up like a furnace and need all the space I can create around myself to keep cool.
I made a coffee and sat contemplating until 7 am. A stroll to the road to join the queue of school children in gleaming white shirts and grey sulus, with pristine backpacks on their backs ( its the first week of school here) and I try to flag down a van.
The art of catching a van in Fiji is tricky as I still haven't identified the vans that only go to the nearest village on either side, and the suva- lautoka vans, or the food vans. I missed a fast van, and then waited for the bus. While I was talking to Di and Vive waiting to catch the bus, I missed another van. I then got my finger out at the right time and caught a van with an Indian driver. I am not racist, but with an Indian driver and me being white or kavalangi I knew I was going to have to pay more. In fact a $4 ride turned into $5. Have to go to the bank this afternoon and get change for the week, so I just shove the right amount into the driver's hand. I am on a budget.
I arrive at The Pearl, at 8.30 and decide to walk down to the beach. Sit on a chair overlooking the water and close my eyes for five minutes and get a grip.
Its been a busy morning as Donna, Michaela and Gaby and I move all the resources into a hotel room which will become our classroom. I am teaching 5 mornings a week, with access to internet whenever I need it. Yippee! Otherwise I have to catch a van to Sigatoka and pay $10+ for the slowest broadband ever.
I have planned our lessons and have got my head around the NSW version of outcome statements. I have the afternoons to pursue my woodfired oven project. The boys have told me they can build it. I just have to get the bricks. I can't wait to cook in an oven which is actually hot. Tried to make pikelets yesterday on a kerosene stove but with no sizzle it was hard to get them to be light, fluffy and browned, instead of uncooked gluey missiles.
I am also on a diet and have started steaming and boiling as everything here is fried. No wonder the Fijian ladies ass is so wide. They eat last, hoover up everything that has not been eaten and its all deeply drenched in oil or coconut oil.
Chita made the classic mistake of not thinking before he opened his mouth yesterday. We arrived back from Suva in the heat of the day, and he asked me to cook lunch. I came up with chicken drumsticks in a tomato salsa with zucchini, guacamole and fried white sweet potato chips. Cooking the sweet potatoes was a mistake in 36 degrees with a stove that takes all bloody day to heat up. I sat on a chair, hovering over the pot and sweating buckets. Chita came in hungry and tried to rush the cooking.
Its done.
No its not.
Then as he started eating he said 'There's always some flavour missing from your cooking'
I took his plate and told him 'You don't have to eat it'
He was about to continue, when he took one look at my face and said
Okay okay.
I burst out with 'No chilli or curry powder in this'
You are rude to talk about food like that, when someone has sweated buckets to make that food for you.
He took one look at my trembling top lip and went to the fridge and poured me a glass of water.
Later that evening, just before bed time he turns to me and says, I just want to say, Thank you again Amanda for the lovely dinner.
He will have to adjust to the delicate flavours of boiled and steamed food as there will be plenty more...
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
In the village, the peaceful village!
Have spent the last week in Chita's village staying in his mother's house. Its been interesting to say the least. Fijians are very kind, gentle people and they don't like to tell a kavalangi when they are offending traditional customs, so its been me making mistakes and Chita correcting me.
For example, the front door of the house is only for the owner and his wife to enter. Everyone else has to enter by the back door. There I go skipping in and out of the front door, completely unaware of a serious offence. I know that you have to take your shoes off , from previous visits but making sure your feet are clean is something I tend to forget, as I stroll up from the beach. I also have to sit with my legs not facing the middle door, as outside it is a major walkway where everyone passes, so my legs must not show at all. If anyone walks past, they must be invited in for a cup of tea or kana ( a meal). One night, Chita's sister in law, said"Man we should move the doors, then we could eat our dinner in peace!"
I have to wear the sulu or sarong when I am on the front porch, even if I am wearing shorts. Its been incredibly hot so of course I keep forgetting. I also start out with a sulu over my shorts, from the village, walk up the beach and start taking off clothes, by the time I get to the Warwick Hotel I am in my bathers. Coming home I have to put everything back on and be fully covered.
I hate the fact that my upper body is a gorgeous golden brown but my legs are stark white so whenever possible I get them out.
Staying in the village means eating dinner late, the children and grandma on the floor, either side of a long cloth, and me at the dining table with whoever wants to sit with me. Some nights people come over, they will be polite, and speak a little English but once stories need to be told, its Fijian only. It can be lonely at times, sitting quietly, listening like mad and not understanding a bloody word of it. I have learnt greetings and 'katakata' because it has been very hot. I have had to throw water over my head each night before I go to sleep. The first few days were exhausting as my body was still trying to adjust to the change of temperature. Now after a week, I am tanned, have lost weight, and have been avoiding the humungus portions of food dished out by saying I am on a diet.
Things with the bure bar are creeping a long. We are so close, but have some unexpected expenses. We have the roof to finish, the electricity to put on ( a deal with Mike's divers next door) tables to make, chairs to buy, and a cash register. Bits and pieces like teatowels, receipt books, cutting boards and the like will be scrounged from all around.
To start cash flow I have insisted we start a roadside barbecue. You stop and for $3.50 a serve you receive my garlic, ginger and chilli chicken wings, a bean salad and a piece of cassava. Chita's mum is going to show me how to hack the cassava, or should I say peel the cassava with a machete, not sure how I will go.
Its been hot! hot! Hot! Plenty of drinks and avoiding treats. Chita had a cornetto in Suva yesterday and I had one bite only..... Yes I know its strange but true.
The water in the village has been off for sometime. There have been animated discussions on what needs to be done and who should do it. The mayor has not called a village meeting for months so no one can do anything. I am drinking boiled water mostly but after a visit to the hospital today to see Chita's new nephew, Amelia, his mum and I bumped into two ladies from the village who are looking seriously ill. One has an enormously distended stomach and the other an enormous boil on her neck. I am thinking bacterial, infection and I think its the water. Have to remember to buy Fiji water in the bottle for me to drink tonight. I cannot and do not want to get sick. We have so much to do.
I wake up every day and can use the toilet in the morning but to wash I take a bucketful of water from a nearby tap and slosh it over my head, Japanese style. Its been greatly soothing on some of these hot nights. I get sticky hot and am desperate to shower, but there is no water so I can't just jump in the shower whenever I want to. I also can't use the toilet after 9 am so I spend the day planning my toilet stops. Today I was returning a hire car so I stopped at the Outrigger Hotel and utilised their facilities. Its part of my daily toil.
I love the beach. I love the reef. Went snorkelling with Victor and Natalie to plan a tour last week and just loved floating about. Have been swimming nearly everyday and love just sitting and looking at the sea.
Last trip I was here, I grabbed Chita around the waist as we were heading back to the village. I said' What a beautiful Sunset!
'Yes' was his reply.
Now is the bit where you kiss me in front of the beautiful sunset.
Oh yes Miss Amanda Sutton. Right away.
For example, the front door of the house is only for the owner and his wife to enter. Everyone else has to enter by the back door. There I go skipping in and out of the front door, completely unaware of a serious offence. I know that you have to take your shoes off , from previous visits but making sure your feet are clean is something I tend to forget, as I stroll up from the beach. I also have to sit with my legs not facing the middle door, as outside it is a major walkway where everyone passes, so my legs must not show at all. If anyone walks past, they must be invited in for a cup of tea or kana ( a meal). One night, Chita's sister in law, said"Man we should move the doors, then we could eat our dinner in peace!"
I have to wear the sulu or sarong when I am on the front porch, even if I am wearing shorts. Its been incredibly hot so of course I keep forgetting. I also start out with a sulu over my shorts, from the village, walk up the beach and start taking off clothes, by the time I get to the Warwick Hotel I am in my bathers. Coming home I have to put everything back on and be fully covered.
I hate the fact that my upper body is a gorgeous golden brown but my legs are stark white so whenever possible I get them out.
Staying in the village means eating dinner late, the children and grandma on the floor, either side of a long cloth, and me at the dining table with whoever wants to sit with me. Some nights people come over, they will be polite, and speak a little English but once stories need to be told, its Fijian only. It can be lonely at times, sitting quietly, listening like mad and not understanding a bloody word of it. I have learnt greetings and 'katakata' because it has been very hot. I have had to throw water over my head each night before I go to sleep. The first few days were exhausting as my body was still trying to adjust to the change of temperature. Now after a week, I am tanned, have lost weight, and have been avoiding the humungus portions of food dished out by saying I am on a diet.
Things with the bure bar are creeping a long. We are so close, but have some unexpected expenses. We have the roof to finish, the electricity to put on ( a deal with Mike's divers next door) tables to make, chairs to buy, and a cash register. Bits and pieces like teatowels, receipt books, cutting boards and the like will be scrounged from all around.
To start cash flow I have insisted we start a roadside barbecue. You stop and for $3.50 a serve you receive my garlic, ginger and chilli chicken wings, a bean salad and a piece of cassava. Chita's mum is going to show me how to hack the cassava, or should I say peel the cassava with a machete, not sure how I will go.
Its been hot! hot! Hot! Plenty of drinks and avoiding treats. Chita had a cornetto in Suva yesterday and I had one bite only..... Yes I know its strange but true.
The water in the village has been off for sometime. There have been animated discussions on what needs to be done and who should do it. The mayor has not called a village meeting for months so no one can do anything. I am drinking boiled water mostly but after a visit to the hospital today to see Chita's new nephew, Amelia, his mum and I bumped into two ladies from the village who are looking seriously ill. One has an enormously distended stomach and the other an enormous boil on her neck. I am thinking bacterial, infection and I think its the water. Have to remember to buy Fiji water in the bottle for me to drink tonight. I cannot and do not want to get sick. We have so much to do.
I wake up every day and can use the toilet in the morning but to wash I take a bucketful of water from a nearby tap and slosh it over my head, Japanese style. Its been greatly soothing on some of these hot nights. I get sticky hot and am desperate to shower, but there is no water so I can't just jump in the shower whenever I want to. I also can't use the toilet after 9 am so I spend the day planning my toilet stops. Today I was returning a hire car so I stopped at the Outrigger Hotel and utilised their facilities. Its part of my daily toil.
I love the beach. I love the reef. Went snorkelling with Victor and Natalie to plan a tour last week and just loved floating about. Have been swimming nearly everyday and love just sitting and looking at the sea.
Last trip I was here, I grabbed Chita around the waist as we were heading back to the village. I said' What a beautiful Sunset!
'Yes' was his reply.
Now is the bit where you kiss me in front of the beautiful sunset.
Oh yes Miss Amanda Sutton. Right away.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Balmy Fiji!
Having not seen Chita for 3 months, and its always a daunting task, to emerge through the customs doors and see if he is there waiting for me. I had bought some food and seeds I had to declare but they just waved me through.
I came out, he wasn't there, so I rang him on the mobile.
I am walking towards the airport now...
I walk out, and find him sitting on a bench waving a newpaper at me. He has cut his hair short, and looks fit and healthy.
We take the trolley down to the airport cafe and talk. No military in sight. Welcoming, smiley faces everywhere and it's warm..... two rum and cokes later, we are very relaxed.
We decide to stay at Tubukula cottages and catch a taxi there. I order dinner and a bottle of wine.Nice.
Can we have dinner in our bungalow?
Sure?
Can we go now to our room?
No I am sorry the security guard must take you and he is just fixing the gas.
Can you open the bottle of wine for me?
Sure... Sorry sorry, I will ask the cook to do it for you.
We pile the trolley with my 50 kg of luggage and head for the bungalow. Showers, a drink and dinner and a long talk.
Back to Votua the next day by taxi.
Kalara's house where I was going to stay, has a fence around it and her family are sending her back to their village. She has been drinking and carousing and not looking after the house. Chita's bure is a mess and he doesn't want us to live there. I spend the day talking to everyone, swimming, and find out at 7 o'clock at night, we are staying at his mum's.
I take a walk up the beach in the afternoon to see Simon, an Australian Fijian who is wanting to start a water sport business up and down the coast. He is a builder. Inoke the aging Fijian movie star, yes he was in a telemovie with Tele Savalas and played a sheik in a dramatic piece in Egypt greets me.
Bula Amanda.
I have been looking at your place. It looks good. But where is your room?
Hey, what a good idea! We build a room next to the bar and we have independence, privacy and can look after the bar. Once I start making bread I will need late night and early morning starts, so I can go and crash nearby....
I am ecstatic. Simon gives me instructions, a room made from tin, 14 x 8, with a toilet and shower - two doors so that visitors have bathroom access too...
Its only Day 1 and I am feeling more secure.
We visit Victor's for a barbecue dinner with pork spare ribs soaked in beer, the usual, garlic, chilli and lime. Delicious. Even grilled potatoes, not cassava on the barbecue!! How very European.
Day 2 sees me having tea and fresh passionfruit for breakfast. I sit talking to Chita's mum and then read my book until 11.30. I am about to head down the beach to go snorkelling, but lunch is waiting.
I have already prepared lunch for you.
Sit down, have a cup of tea... the meat will take 3 minutes....
I sit down, and tell her, that I have come to Fiji to get healthy and I am on a diet.
Okay, okay.
A huge bowl of beef stew appears.
That's for you Amanda.
Vinaka.
I eat about a third of it and gather my things to go. Chita has organised a mask. I stop at the bure bar to talk to Tamo who has a mouthpiece. I go nextdoor to Mike's dives and borrow a pair of flippers which I promise to return promptly.
Loaded up I head for the Marine Protected area. There have been so many changes in the last few months. A wedding chapel has gone up next to Vilisite's with a big fence and two security guards. I try to duck down the alleyway beside Asela's shop and she has built a gate and locked it. Unbelievable.
I stop at the concrete cage or drinks bar and order a sprite. Talking to the new shopkeeper, I find out she is from the Yasawas and wants to develop a small business there. I offer to help her plan it next Monday. Projects appear everywhere....
I walk into Villa Della Cowrie, the wedding chapel and ask the security if I can take a shortcut.
I will walk you down to the beach madam
Vinaka.
I am gobsmacked at the wedding chapel, its perching on the sand and it looks a little unstable. I walk over the rocks to the beach and wait. I swim in the crystal blue water and just float. My white body is changing colour rapidly as I turn into a sun lizard...
Victor and Melanie turn up and we head out into the lagoon to map a snorkelling tour they are setting up. I just follow along behind, not really caring where I am going and what I am doing. It takes a few minutes to get used to the snorkel again, and I need to use my flippers more to move me along.
I see fish, clams, sea slugs and sea urchins. I hit an area where the coral is high and I am not sure I can swim over it. Victor calls out
Amanda don't worry keep going, you will float over the top
I sure do.
We visit the deep ponds at the edge of the lagoon. I float over soft coral in an array of pastel colours, pink, yellow and mauve.
Victor and Melanie start pointing. I take my mask off, and turn around in the water, missing a reef shark completely....Thank God! I would have been paralysed with fear.
We are trying to find plastic bottle markers and they seem to have disappeared. We swim in a huge loop and then cut across it, for swimmers who may not be as strong. The current is building, and I have to paddle hard to get there.
My mask is initially too tight and hurting my nose. We expand it, and my mask starts filling up with water....
I am getting tired and the shore seems a long way away.
Yes, we have figured it all out now Amanda.
Great!
I head for the shore.
Victor tells me I have to cut through Simon's family house to get back to the main road. He leads us along the old road in the jungle, which finishes at Villa del Cowrie's fence. We end up doing a bush walk through the overhanging fronds back to the beach.
My freedom has been curbed. My long beach stroll to the Warwick for a swim and magazine can now only be done at low tide.
We get back onto the main road and run into Abo.
Amanda I am so sorry.
Why? Abo?
I cut my arm.
I know.
I am so sorry I have not been able to help you.
Its okay. You need to look after your arm.
He has sliced it and done some serious damage to his fingers. The feeling and movement is slowly coming back.
I know I could have stopped it, but I am Fijian you know, and I couldn't stop myself.
IE. I knew I shouldn't have been drinking and I could have stopped myself, but I didnt.
Victor and I laugh. How Fijian is that!
My mobile rings.
Where are you?
Walking down the beach. See you soon.
I decide to broach the subject of a master plan.
Chita is very defensive, short.
I have built this bar for you, now it is up to you to make it work.
No, no,no. I need your help.
I will be around.
I smell fear.
Everyone talks. I have made this, a shitty little bar.
What?
I love it. It's got atmosphere, it's great.
We walk back to his mum's for another curry.
Chita gives me some instructions about what to wear and where to sit. I must wear a sulu in the village at all times. I must not enter by the front door, as that is only for the owners of the house. I must make sure I cover my legs when I sit down. In fact it is better that I don't sit and face the door.
His brother Joe and wife natalie arrive. I find out that there is walkway past the dining room of the house. Chita's mum has a door which is always open and because people walk past, you must greet them and offer them either kana ( food) or tea.
Natalie suggests they move the door and put in windows, as it is the only house in the village where everyone can see straight in. Maybe plant a hedge of flowers to block the view.
I am learning new things daily.
The kids have raided my chocolate in the fridge, after lollypops, nuts, chips and cordial all day. Pacing yourself is not a Fijian way. Whatever you have you eat it all, or drink it all.
Chita and I talk. He is worried about paying back my brother's money.
Worst case scenario, I go back to Tassie and relief teach or work for a while to pay it off.
We need a small business development loan to get the business up and running so I will go to the bank tomorrow to see if they are still on offer under the current seeming unstable government. Fijians are behind Bainimarama's clean up campaign. Stories of corruption at all levels appearing daily and a naughty list with the first name of an offender, has been printed in the paper today.
Foreigners organising land leases which they don't pay for, borrowing huge sums from banks and a variety of funds, with pitiful payments back to the local landowners. Its all over.
Last night Chita was wavering. We will do what we agreed to do. It will be tough. But if we can make this work now, imagine in boom times.....
I am positive. I now have to activate my own personal action plan and show everyone and myself what I know I am capable of...
I came out, he wasn't there, so I rang him on the mobile.
I am walking towards the airport now...
I walk out, and find him sitting on a bench waving a newpaper at me. He has cut his hair short, and looks fit and healthy.
We take the trolley down to the airport cafe and talk. No military in sight. Welcoming, smiley faces everywhere and it's warm..... two rum and cokes later, we are very relaxed.
We decide to stay at Tubukula cottages and catch a taxi there. I order dinner and a bottle of wine.Nice.
Can we have dinner in our bungalow?
Sure?
Can we go now to our room?
No I am sorry the security guard must take you and he is just fixing the gas.
Can you open the bottle of wine for me?
Sure... Sorry sorry, I will ask the cook to do it for you.
We pile the trolley with my 50 kg of luggage and head for the bungalow. Showers, a drink and dinner and a long talk.
Back to Votua the next day by taxi.
Kalara's house where I was going to stay, has a fence around it and her family are sending her back to their village. She has been drinking and carousing and not looking after the house. Chita's bure is a mess and he doesn't want us to live there. I spend the day talking to everyone, swimming, and find out at 7 o'clock at night, we are staying at his mum's.
I take a walk up the beach in the afternoon to see Simon, an Australian Fijian who is wanting to start a water sport business up and down the coast. He is a builder. Inoke the aging Fijian movie star, yes he was in a telemovie with Tele Savalas and played a sheik in a dramatic piece in Egypt greets me.
Bula Amanda.
I have been looking at your place. It looks good. But where is your room?
Hey, what a good idea! We build a room next to the bar and we have independence, privacy and can look after the bar. Once I start making bread I will need late night and early morning starts, so I can go and crash nearby....
I am ecstatic. Simon gives me instructions, a room made from tin, 14 x 8, with a toilet and shower - two doors so that visitors have bathroom access too...
Its only Day 1 and I am feeling more secure.
We visit Victor's for a barbecue dinner with pork spare ribs soaked in beer, the usual, garlic, chilli and lime. Delicious. Even grilled potatoes, not cassava on the barbecue!! How very European.
Day 2 sees me having tea and fresh passionfruit for breakfast. I sit talking to Chita's mum and then read my book until 11.30. I am about to head down the beach to go snorkelling, but lunch is waiting.
I have already prepared lunch for you.
Sit down, have a cup of tea... the meat will take 3 minutes....
I sit down, and tell her, that I have come to Fiji to get healthy and I am on a diet.
Okay, okay.
A huge bowl of beef stew appears.
That's for you Amanda.
Vinaka.
I eat about a third of it and gather my things to go. Chita has organised a mask. I stop at the bure bar to talk to Tamo who has a mouthpiece. I go nextdoor to Mike's dives and borrow a pair of flippers which I promise to return promptly.
Loaded up I head for the Marine Protected area. There have been so many changes in the last few months. A wedding chapel has gone up next to Vilisite's with a big fence and two security guards. I try to duck down the alleyway beside Asela's shop and she has built a gate and locked it. Unbelievable.
I stop at the concrete cage or drinks bar and order a sprite. Talking to the new shopkeeper, I find out she is from the Yasawas and wants to develop a small business there. I offer to help her plan it next Monday. Projects appear everywhere....
I walk into Villa Della Cowrie, the wedding chapel and ask the security if I can take a shortcut.
I will walk you down to the beach madam
Vinaka.
I am gobsmacked at the wedding chapel, its perching on the sand and it looks a little unstable. I walk over the rocks to the beach and wait. I swim in the crystal blue water and just float. My white body is changing colour rapidly as I turn into a sun lizard...
Victor and Melanie turn up and we head out into the lagoon to map a snorkelling tour they are setting up. I just follow along behind, not really caring where I am going and what I am doing. It takes a few minutes to get used to the snorkel again, and I need to use my flippers more to move me along.
I see fish, clams, sea slugs and sea urchins. I hit an area where the coral is high and I am not sure I can swim over it. Victor calls out
Amanda don't worry keep going, you will float over the top
I sure do.
We visit the deep ponds at the edge of the lagoon. I float over soft coral in an array of pastel colours, pink, yellow and mauve.
Victor and Melanie start pointing. I take my mask off, and turn around in the water, missing a reef shark completely....Thank God! I would have been paralysed with fear.
We are trying to find plastic bottle markers and they seem to have disappeared. We swim in a huge loop and then cut across it, for swimmers who may not be as strong. The current is building, and I have to paddle hard to get there.
My mask is initially too tight and hurting my nose. We expand it, and my mask starts filling up with water....
I am getting tired and the shore seems a long way away.
Yes, we have figured it all out now Amanda.
Great!
I head for the shore.
Victor tells me I have to cut through Simon's family house to get back to the main road. He leads us along the old road in the jungle, which finishes at Villa del Cowrie's fence. We end up doing a bush walk through the overhanging fronds back to the beach.
My freedom has been curbed. My long beach stroll to the Warwick for a swim and magazine can now only be done at low tide.
We get back onto the main road and run into Abo.
Amanda I am so sorry.
Why? Abo?
I cut my arm.
I know.
I am so sorry I have not been able to help you.
Its okay. You need to look after your arm.
He has sliced it and done some serious damage to his fingers. The feeling and movement is slowly coming back.
I know I could have stopped it, but I am Fijian you know, and I couldn't stop myself.
IE. I knew I shouldn't have been drinking and I could have stopped myself, but I didnt.
Victor and I laugh. How Fijian is that!
My mobile rings.
Where are you?
Walking down the beach. See you soon.
I decide to broach the subject of a master plan.
Chita is very defensive, short.
I have built this bar for you, now it is up to you to make it work.
No, no,no. I need your help.
I will be around.
I smell fear.
Everyone talks. I have made this, a shitty little bar.
What?
I love it. It's got atmosphere, it's great.
We walk back to his mum's for another curry.
Chita gives me some instructions about what to wear and where to sit. I must wear a sulu in the village at all times. I must not enter by the front door, as that is only for the owners of the house. I must make sure I cover my legs when I sit down. In fact it is better that I don't sit and face the door.
His brother Joe and wife natalie arrive. I find out that there is walkway past the dining room of the house. Chita's mum has a door which is always open and because people walk past, you must greet them and offer them either kana ( food) or tea.
Natalie suggests they move the door and put in windows, as it is the only house in the village where everyone can see straight in. Maybe plant a hedge of flowers to block the view.
I am learning new things daily.
The kids have raided my chocolate in the fridge, after lollypops, nuts, chips and cordial all day. Pacing yourself is not a Fijian way. Whatever you have you eat it all, or drink it all.
Chita and I talk. He is worried about paying back my brother's money.
Worst case scenario, I go back to Tassie and relief teach or work for a while to pay it off.
We need a small business development loan to get the business up and running so I will go to the bank tomorrow to see if they are still on offer under the current seeming unstable government. Fijians are behind Bainimarama's clean up campaign. Stories of corruption at all levels appearing daily and a naughty list with the first name of an offender, has been printed in the paper today.
Foreigners organising land leases which they don't pay for, borrowing huge sums from banks and a variety of funds, with pitiful payments back to the local landowners. Its all over.
Last night Chita was wavering. We will do what we agreed to do. It will be tough. But if we can make this work now, imagine in boom times.....
I am positive. I now have to activate my own personal action plan and show everyone and myself what I know I am capable of...
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