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!