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...