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.