I can't believe it! I am catching a flight this afternoon to Melbourne to pick up Chita who finally has a stamped prospective spouse visa in his passport. Yes it has happened. He and I have been wandering around in shock - its kind of surreal. We have been kept in a waiting station, being constantly bombarded with requests for more documents and I was thinking in my head, that the High Commission could hold off our visas until Dec 23rd or be cruel and wait until the New Year.
How did it happen? Well Chita went to Suva on Tuesday and told them we were getting married in December. He got engagement and wedding confused. I had been thinking that we should have a small family wedding on New Year's Eve when all my 6 siblings and partners and children were home from Victoria and Switzerland. He asked me for a letter. I emailed my migration agent to ask what sort of letter and he told me that I needed to get a letter from a marriage celebrant. I was heading out on the Derwent River here in Hobart for a boat licence and got a call from Chita asking why I had not faxed the letter through. My head was spinning and I had to wait until 4 pm to get back to my office and start making calls. I found all the marriage celebrants in Hobart and started calling. The first one who answered and said yes got the job. It turned out to be Christine Howard who said she had no problem marrying us on New Year's Eve at 2 pm.
My family were completely unaware as I had initially told them we would marry around Easter or June at the latest. It has been busy but I think its been worth it as the ceremony will be short, simple and sweet, in front of my family only and then I will organise a series of wedding parties for friends... keep the party going and slowly introduce him to all my friends.
I had to ring everyone in my family to tell them the news without being sure that I had a venue for the wedding. My mother was quiet. My sister Georgia - that's a bit quick. We've only known each other for four years... Polly and Trina were effusive in their congratulations. I then drove up to my brother Daniel's house and asked them if they would mind sharing their wedding anniversary with us. No problem. I did a one stop shop and asked them to be the witnesses as well.
I confirmed the Wedding on Wednesday December 16th and had to wait a WHOLE DAY for Christine to get back from a funeral to write the letter. On Friday December 18th I drove to Jane Franklin Hall to pick up the letter and discovered two spelling errors - my name as Angel and his name spelt wrong. She kindly re- typed our letter. I was quietly sweating as I wanted to get the letter scanned and emailed to Suva before midday. I had a feeling it would sit in someone's mail box until Monday.
Got back to school and couldn't find a scanner that would work. I was having a quiet panic and ended up getting the letter scanned and emailed and collapsed in a heap.
Chita meanwhile was not responding to his phone as he had lost it. It had fallen out of his pocket getting out of a car.
So the last few days have been Fijian style. Me ringing friends in Fiji to convey messages and finally ringing him at his mum's house after a re-arranged time. Its been quietly frustrating but we have got it together.
Our good friend Victor printed the email booking for Chita to take to Suva today. In my haste to book the tickets this week I accidentally typed Barbados for country of origin. I also booked my ticket to Melbourne for the weekend but accidentally booked my return for after xmaS. I was obviously in emotional turmoil. I am so happy. I am so excited. I have turned into my mother and have been cleaning my office, my tiny appartment and car in preparation. I am writing my final blog for the year and looking forward to a fun touristy weekend in Melbourne, before an huge family xmas followed by a wedding. What more could a girl ask for?
For those girls in the same position as me - take heart and take care of yourself. Its a long haul but worth it...
Will fill you in on the wedding and how a tall smiley Fijian village boy copes with life in Hobart - there will be some funny stories I am sure!
Merry Christmas to all and hope Santa brings you what you want the most!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Visas for Fijian Males to Australia
When I first met Chita, one of his friends worked at the New Zealand High Commission and told me that there was no way they would give him a visitor's visa as he had no income and had not worked in a resort for five years. Instead he had gone bush and was working on the family plantation. It was a tricky time for us - we had just met, we were keen to see each other a lot and in the first year I visited Fiji 7 times and spent every scrap of savings I had. I bought him a mobile phone to maintain contact and he also learnt how to send texts.
We then set up a small business. We followed the six steps of setting up a business in Suva and with all the documentation at our fingertips we applied for a short term business visa with me sponsoring his expenses. It was refused, as he had insufficient income - my status of sponsorship was not even considered. That was in 2005.
Chita had the shop to build so he wasn't too worried. I could still visit Fiji on holiday breaks being a teacher so we decided to put all our energy into setting up a business in Fiji.
At the end of 2006 Chita was playing rugby and was part of a team chosen to represent Fiji at Fiji Day in Sydney. He had lost his phone and I hadn't been back so we had no way of contacting each other on an impromptu basis - we had a committed phone call to someone's phone in the village every Monday night at 7 pm. I paid for his ticket, booked a ticket for myself to Sydney with a girlfriend. We turn up to Fiji day and he is nowhere to be seen. We ask friendly Fijians if the team from Votua had arrived. No, no, they will be here by one o'clock or one-thirty. We eat, we wander, we watch the dancing and singing. The teams arrive. I am directed to the adjacent park and asked the coach where Chita was. He and the boys are coming in a van= they are running late. We went back to get a seat for the game. The game starts - 10 minutes passes - no Chita, 20 minutes passes- no Chita. I walk onto the ground where all the Fijians were sitting watching the game and called out - Does anyone know where Esita Tubuna is? A sea of blank faces presented itself. I ask again a little more loudly. A young Fijian guy puts up his hand and tells me: He is back in Fiji. The visa for the team was refused.
Little did I know that this story hit Votua within 24 hours. A lady walking around the oval YELLING for Esita Tubuna. His mother found it amusing - as Fijian never raise their voice. What kind of outlandish creature was asking for her son, who had told her repeatedly he would never have a girlfriend again and was never going to marry.
I cried buckets. Went out for dinner and wept through my bowl of prawns, drank a lot and suddenly felt marginally better. I spent Sunday on my own travelling around Sydney Harbour on and off ferries still weeping in glorious sunshine - going why can't I ring him? Why can't I talk to him? I wrote a ten page letter and posted it. Then managed to talk to him at our appointed time on a Monday night back in Tassie and he says - don't worry!!!!!
My second attempt at a visa was a visitor's visa last year. We had been together for two years, we have a business in Fiji which is not making much money, I wanted to introduce him to my family and he gets refused again for all the same reasons and my sponsorship was again refused. I was gutted and devastated. I had presumed everything and provided supporting documentation and they ignored it all. I did not want to be around happy family. My mother thought she was being supportive by telling me to get over it. I'm sorry mum but this hurts. My sisters were instantly immigration agents who knew it all, and thought it was their right to tell me- that he had had no chance of getting a visitor's visa as they had contacts, and they knew better. Not what I needed.
My third attempt at a visa has been applying for a prospective spouse visa. Why didn't we get married? Because of the living 12 months continuously clause. I tried to live in Fiji last year and find a job so I could get a work permit but there was nothing available and what was available was slave labour.
Our migration agent suggested there were fewer hurdles for the prospective spouse visa so we went with that.
Its been a gruelling and taxing time for me emotionally, physically and mentally. I am a Type A personality who gets things done and I have been constantly thwarted by Fiji.
Even handing over the business to friends is huge for me, as I would love to be there getting a bakery-cafe set up and meeting heaps of people but instead I have had to relinquish that dream and prioritize. I need Chita in my life. He needs to learn Australian ways or this mixed marriage will go nowhere. We have more opportunities here, and I have to postpone my bakery-cafe for 2-5 years realistically while we get ourselves into a financially stable position. Boring but necessary.
So now you know why Chita has not been to Australia. Fijian males between 20-45 have great difficulty getting a visitor's visa. Fijians are put into a high risk category for overstaying which when you apply for visas you wonder how they could think that, as they can't get in the bloody country. I am with Rupert Murdoch who in his Boyer's lectures has stated that Australia needs to lift its restrictive immigration policies and build a working nation..... I agree wholeheartedly!
We then set up a small business. We followed the six steps of setting up a business in Suva and with all the documentation at our fingertips we applied for a short term business visa with me sponsoring his expenses. It was refused, as he had insufficient income - my status of sponsorship was not even considered. That was in 2005.
Chita had the shop to build so he wasn't too worried. I could still visit Fiji on holiday breaks being a teacher so we decided to put all our energy into setting up a business in Fiji.
At the end of 2006 Chita was playing rugby and was part of a team chosen to represent Fiji at Fiji Day in Sydney. He had lost his phone and I hadn't been back so we had no way of contacting each other on an impromptu basis - we had a committed phone call to someone's phone in the village every Monday night at 7 pm. I paid for his ticket, booked a ticket for myself to Sydney with a girlfriend. We turn up to Fiji day and he is nowhere to be seen. We ask friendly Fijians if the team from Votua had arrived. No, no, they will be here by one o'clock or one-thirty. We eat, we wander, we watch the dancing and singing. The teams arrive. I am directed to the adjacent park and asked the coach where Chita was. He and the boys are coming in a van= they are running late. We went back to get a seat for the game. The game starts - 10 minutes passes - no Chita, 20 minutes passes- no Chita. I walk onto the ground where all the Fijians were sitting watching the game and called out - Does anyone know where Esita Tubuna is? A sea of blank faces presented itself. I ask again a little more loudly. A young Fijian guy puts up his hand and tells me: He is back in Fiji. The visa for the team was refused.
Little did I know that this story hit Votua within 24 hours. A lady walking around the oval YELLING for Esita Tubuna. His mother found it amusing - as Fijian never raise their voice. What kind of outlandish creature was asking for her son, who had told her repeatedly he would never have a girlfriend again and was never going to marry.
I cried buckets. Went out for dinner and wept through my bowl of prawns, drank a lot and suddenly felt marginally better. I spent Sunday on my own travelling around Sydney Harbour on and off ferries still weeping in glorious sunshine - going why can't I ring him? Why can't I talk to him? I wrote a ten page letter and posted it. Then managed to talk to him at our appointed time on a Monday night back in Tassie and he says - don't worry!!!!!
My second attempt at a visa was a visitor's visa last year. We had been together for two years, we have a business in Fiji which is not making much money, I wanted to introduce him to my family and he gets refused again for all the same reasons and my sponsorship was again refused. I was gutted and devastated. I had presumed everything and provided supporting documentation and they ignored it all. I did not want to be around happy family. My mother thought she was being supportive by telling me to get over it. I'm sorry mum but this hurts. My sisters were instantly immigration agents who knew it all, and thought it was their right to tell me- that he had had no chance of getting a visitor's visa as they had contacts, and they knew better. Not what I needed.
My third attempt at a visa has been applying for a prospective spouse visa. Why didn't we get married? Because of the living 12 months continuously clause. I tried to live in Fiji last year and find a job so I could get a work permit but there was nothing available and what was available was slave labour.
Our migration agent suggested there were fewer hurdles for the prospective spouse visa so we went with that.
Its been a gruelling and taxing time for me emotionally, physically and mentally. I am a Type A personality who gets things done and I have been constantly thwarted by Fiji.
Even handing over the business to friends is huge for me, as I would love to be there getting a bakery-cafe set up and meeting heaps of people but instead I have had to relinquish that dream and prioritize. I need Chita in my life. He needs to learn Australian ways or this mixed marriage will go nowhere. We have more opportunities here, and I have to postpone my bakery-cafe for 2-5 years realistically while we get ourselves into a financially stable position. Boring but necessary.
So now you know why Chita has not been to Australia. Fijian males between 20-45 have great difficulty getting a visitor's visa. Fijians are put into a high risk category for overstaying which when you apply for visas you wonder how they could think that, as they can't get in the bloody country. I am with Rupert Murdoch who in his Boyer's lectures has stated that Australia needs to lift its restrictive immigration policies and build a working nation..... I agree wholeheartedly!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Hanging in there!
I had a serious chat to Chita yesterday. He is hanging in there. He like me is starting to think is this ever going to happen. I have paid for a migration agent - how can they not believe our relationship is genuine. How do we prove that our relationship is genuine. We don't have phone accounts other than vodafone. We don't write letters to each other anymore. I talk to him every couple of days on the phone and send a text or two. He has no computer -he cannot send emails.
Its the evidence according to Australian standards that is killing us. We don't have a home in Fiji - yet. We don't have a phone line, or electricity bills or water bills together (anyway in Fiji water is free)
I could compile a whole load of papers but it still doesn't prove that we love and care for each other. Chita has been interviewed but I have not. I hope that the sacrifice of moving to Hobart, to get a full time job, and live with a friend has paid off. It has cost me my health - a wriggly worm maybe lodged in my intestines - but not for long - a dose of vermox is going to shoo him out.
I keep saying patience is something I thought I had but it fades with inaction. Luckily Chita has something to do. Take a form we have already submitted, fill it out again and take a van ride to Suva and back and submit it. Please God, let this be the last thing they ask for.
Flights are going up. I am saving madly. I cannot afford to go to Fiji to go and get him. He will have to make his own way from Nadi to Sydney and then Melbourne. I will meet him there for the weekend and show him the sights and eat fabulous food together.
I have never been this powerless in my life. Our future lies in the hands of an office clerk, who may be having a good day or a bad day. He or she may feel like doing this properly or dismissing our case to the bottom of the pile. Who knows? December is looming and I know Chita is getting nervous. I am hiding my nerves and thinking he will be here in a couple of weeks. Why the hell not?
I told him in September last year I could not continue living apart. I have a partner who is invisible to my family and friends, who knows nothing of my life and who has never visited my country. I can't live like this.
Please Kevin Rudd ease up on the restrictions on immigration. Even Rupert Murdoch told you so.
I need him here. We need to have a life together or what's the point of it all?
Its the evidence according to Australian standards that is killing us. We don't have a home in Fiji - yet. We don't have a phone line, or electricity bills or water bills together (anyway in Fiji water is free)
I could compile a whole load of papers but it still doesn't prove that we love and care for each other. Chita has been interviewed but I have not. I hope that the sacrifice of moving to Hobart, to get a full time job, and live with a friend has paid off. It has cost me my health - a wriggly worm maybe lodged in my intestines - but not for long - a dose of vermox is going to shoo him out.
I keep saying patience is something I thought I had but it fades with inaction. Luckily Chita has something to do. Take a form we have already submitted, fill it out again and take a van ride to Suva and back and submit it. Please God, let this be the last thing they ask for.
Flights are going up. I am saving madly. I cannot afford to go to Fiji to go and get him. He will have to make his own way from Nadi to Sydney and then Melbourne. I will meet him there for the weekend and show him the sights and eat fabulous food together.
I have never been this powerless in my life. Our future lies in the hands of an office clerk, who may be having a good day or a bad day. He or she may feel like doing this properly or dismissing our case to the bottom of the pile. Who knows? December is looming and I know Chita is getting nervous. I am hiding my nerves and thinking he will be here in a couple of weeks. Why the hell not?
I told him in September last year I could not continue living apart. I have a partner who is invisible to my family and friends, who knows nothing of my life and who has never visited my country. I can't live like this.
Please Kevin Rudd ease up on the restrictions on immigration. Even Rupert Murdoch told you so.
I need him here. We need to have a life together or what's the point of it all?
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The last month has been an ordeal. I have been tired, sluggish, exhausted and lethargic to the max. I have had difficulty walking from my car to my office. I have had breathless attacks and palpitations. By Melbourne cup day I was thinking there is no way I can go to the school sports as I will not be able to walk around the oval with the students. I had tried to get a blood test the day before but the nurse could not find a vein. I presented myself again to my Russian doctor and was sent off to Pathology where they have fine needles and its no problem to get blood out of anyone. I then had a chest xray making sure I parked as close as possible to each venue so that I did not have to walk far. I was so buggared by those two activities that I drove home, went to sleep and woke up in time to see the Melbourne Cup and miss at least eight phone calls. I thought it was a colleague reminding me of a meeting at the Royal Botanical Gardens that afternoon but oh no, it was my doctor ringing. She had even rung my mum, who rang me to tell me to ring her back. I was ordered straight to hospital with a blood count of 39.How had I been walking around. Why had I not fainted and collapsed while walking or driving? Dunno. I am old Irish stock on both sides of the family and my father is surviving Parkinsons so I hopefully inherited some of his tough old boot strength. Into hospital I go. I order a taxi which takes me to emergency. I line up behind a drugged out skateboard who needed a band aid on his knee and when he did not get one big enough decided to throw his skateboard at the unbreakable windows, but the only thing that hurt was the reverberating noise. Security was called so he raced off, giving us all the finger. By this stage I am definitely feeling fragile. The nurse finds my paperwork and ushers me into emergency where I promptly burst into tears. Shock or terror or both. I was laid on a trolley and the bloody awful blood tests began. There was also the issue of inserting a canula into a non-existent vein but I really don't want to think about it. I had oxygen. I waited for the doctor who kept talking about 'internal bleeding'. I am thinking 'No I have no sign of that!' I just feel awful pretty much all the time. Then the brain worked and went, blood loss ie internal bleeding. I had no sign of it - no pain in my ovaries, no blood in my stools, no gut ache. I was a mystery to them all. I waited for family to call but there was no mobile reception in the the emergency department so I just watched the goings on around me. I heard a man next door with chest pain who had recently had a double b-pass and then I think I closed my eyes for a rest.
I was taken up to the ward and told a blood transfusion was next. I had to sign a paper saying that I accepted the blood as there is a slight chance I could have a reaction to it. By this stage I did not care. Feel better. What's that? I have been feeling so crappy for so long. I had visions that I was permanently going to be in this crappy unwell state - but no fear - blood makes it better. I am 0+ common as muck and I thank those people out there who give blood; as I feel so much better now.
I was kept in hospital for a week, and starved, as they had plans for me - a gastroenteroscopy and a colonoscopy which kept getting postponed. Drinks and jelly were my lot. How I looked forward to raspberry, orange or lemon jelly. Down to the day operations area, lying on the trolley, pale and fragile, and the anaethetist refuses to sedate me saying my blood count was still too low. I had endured a bowel clean of thunderous proportions for nothing. It was postponed a week. Bloody hell! Cannot say enough about the kindness and care from nursing staff as I had never been in hospital that long before. I was taking the least amount of pills compared to other patients and was just resting. They were all shake, rattling and rolling every night at pill dispensing time. I had a puff of my puffer and a drug to help control food acid in case I had a gastric ulcer of worse a stomach cancer. I knew I had no pain so I felt safe.
I wasn't looking forward to being knocked out, but it was quick. One minute I am looking at the anaethetist saying' I feel funny' and then I roll over and the surgeon is talking to me, and then I am gone. I wake up in recovery. The weird thing was my hearing came back first, and I woke up talking in response to a conversation amongst the nurses, then my brain kicked in. My initial response was 'amazing'. Its over and I am feeling alright... Yippee. A two hour wait and I see the surgeon who tells me ' No we did not find anything'.
I spend the weekend relaxing and then receive a phone call from a friend in Fiji who had just been back to the states, and had a blood test for a parasitic worm that lodges in the intestine. I also received another call from friends who had lived in Jamaica who suggested the same thing.
So now I am off to have another blood test - for this rapid blood loss - and yes it maybe caused by a parasitic worm in my intestine. Lovely!
In the meantime my beloved Chita in Fiji has been struggling through some issues himself. We are handing over the cafe to Fabi and Dege for two years. In return they get a bure on the beach and will renovate, maintain and upgrade the buildings. We will be setting up two businesses - they are having an art business and we will run the food business. I am never having partners again- the only partner I want is my husband to be. He has not spelt out to them that he will be in Australia for two years so they think he is around to work the business and be a partner. He had a meeting last week with them over a bowl of kava to sort out what is going on.
The visa - what can I say? Its been a bloody never ending story and I cannot believe it has taken this long and we still do not have a verdict. Chita had his interview in Suva on October 21st and then my migration agent received a request for more information. I rang and asked for clarification of when - the last six months or the last four years.
His response - this is highly irregular.
I had been trying to tell him how the Embassy in Suva worked but he would not believe me.
His next response was even more inappropriate - I am sorry Amanda but I think you are a genuine candidate but he is not.
Who bloody well asked you for your opinion, when you know nothing. I was flabbergasted.
I then reiterated that the Embassy in Suva loved lots of paper, loved to ask for more and more of it, and that it had nothing to do with Chita.
I asked him to send an email asking for clarification. A week passed and he did not ring. I rang him on the Friday and he did not answer his mobile but got his wife to answer. He's busy. Ring Monday.
Time is passing. I am reliving my visitor visa application of last year. It got to November and the applications for visa closes. Then the Embassy closes for Christmas and then it will be New Year before anything happens. I just do not want to repeat last Christmas on my own - with family, saying 'get over it, you knew it was going to happen, they don't let Fijians into Australia easily you know' And when did they all become Immigration department agents I ask myself.
Anyhow I applied pressure to the greek agent with a volcanic response. My sister in law decided to call him and ask him if he had sent the email. He hung up on her.
Great weekend that was. I sent an email authorising her on my behalf as he never seems to listen to me, and never pays any attention to what I say about the embassy in Suva. I have applied three times already; I am not a novice.
Anyhow rang him who must be obeyed and never questioned on the Monday and he was ready to pull the pin. I will not work through someone else. I managed to calm him down and get him to confirm that he would call the embassy and find out.
I waited Tuesday, Wednesday and then Thursday to make sure.
Amanda it is really difficult to call the embassy in Suva - you were right. They do want lots of paperwork. Yes the embassy does stop taking applications in November and yes they do close for Christmas and New Year.
A cheap victory. I just want Chita here.
The Friday before I wilted,and wandered off to hospital, I copied all the phone account, my text to Chita, his texts to me, a sample huge phone bill and my bank statements - with something actually in my account. The following Monday I dragged my tired body to my sister in laws work where she scanned and emailed them to he who must be obeyed.
The next day I was in hospital - so not bad. I have just had an email today asking for one more form which we have already filled out, but who cares lets do it again ( maybe it was misplaced) and Chita is picking up a copy from a friend of ours in Votua who has a computer and printer. Yippee!
We are at the last stage. He could be given the thumbs up in the next couple of weeks. All I want for Christmas is Esita Tubuna in Tassie.
I rang him today and he was flat. If I don't get the visa - we will think of something else. What? I can't get a job in Fiji. He can't get a job anywhere else. What hope have we got?
He has to come to Australia. Its the only way to give ourselves freedom and lots of options. I will not give up. We are so close I can feel it.
I am wishing, and hoping - no intestinal worm for me, and a little stamp in a kind, gentle Fijian male's passport - which will bring a slow beaming smile.
Santa are you listening?
I was taken up to the ward and told a blood transfusion was next. I had to sign a paper saying that I accepted the blood as there is a slight chance I could have a reaction to it. By this stage I did not care. Feel better. What's that? I have been feeling so crappy for so long. I had visions that I was permanently going to be in this crappy unwell state - but no fear - blood makes it better. I am 0+ common as muck and I thank those people out there who give blood; as I feel so much better now.
I was kept in hospital for a week, and starved, as they had plans for me - a gastroenteroscopy and a colonoscopy which kept getting postponed. Drinks and jelly were my lot. How I looked forward to raspberry, orange or lemon jelly. Down to the day operations area, lying on the trolley, pale and fragile, and the anaethetist refuses to sedate me saying my blood count was still too low. I had endured a bowel clean of thunderous proportions for nothing. It was postponed a week. Bloody hell! Cannot say enough about the kindness and care from nursing staff as I had never been in hospital that long before. I was taking the least amount of pills compared to other patients and was just resting. They were all shake, rattling and rolling every night at pill dispensing time. I had a puff of my puffer and a drug to help control food acid in case I had a gastric ulcer of worse a stomach cancer. I knew I had no pain so I felt safe.
I wasn't looking forward to being knocked out, but it was quick. One minute I am looking at the anaethetist saying' I feel funny' and then I roll over and the surgeon is talking to me, and then I am gone. I wake up in recovery. The weird thing was my hearing came back first, and I woke up talking in response to a conversation amongst the nurses, then my brain kicked in. My initial response was 'amazing'. Its over and I am feeling alright... Yippee. A two hour wait and I see the surgeon who tells me ' No we did not find anything'.
I spend the weekend relaxing and then receive a phone call from a friend in Fiji who had just been back to the states, and had a blood test for a parasitic worm that lodges in the intestine. I also received another call from friends who had lived in Jamaica who suggested the same thing.
So now I am off to have another blood test - for this rapid blood loss - and yes it maybe caused by a parasitic worm in my intestine. Lovely!
In the meantime my beloved Chita in Fiji has been struggling through some issues himself. We are handing over the cafe to Fabi and Dege for two years. In return they get a bure on the beach and will renovate, maintain and upgrade the buildings. We will be setting up two businesses - they are having an art business and we will run the food business. I am never having partners again- the only partner I want is my husband to be. He has not spelt out to them that he will be in Australia for two years so they think he is around to work the business and be a partner. He had a meeting last week with them over a bowl of kava to sort out what is going on.
The visa - what can I say? Its been a bloody never ending story and I cannot believe it has taken this long and we still do not have a verdict. Chita had his interview in Suva on October 21st and then my migration agent received a request for more information. I rang and asked for clarification of when - the last six months or the last four years.
His response - this is highly irregular.
I had been trying to tell him how the Embassy in Suva worked but he would not believe me.
His next response was even more inappropriate - I am sorry Amanda but I think you are a genuine candidate but he is not.
Who bloody well asked you for your opinion, when you know nothing. I was flabbergasted.
I then reiterated that the Embassy in Suva loved lots of paper, loved to ask for more and more of it, and that it had nothing to do with Chita.
I asked him to send an email asking for clarification. A week passed and he did not ring. I rang him on the Friday and he did not answer his mobile but got his wife to answer. He's busy. Ring Monday.
Time is passing. I am reliving my visitor visa application of last year. It got to November and the applications for visa closes. Then the Embassy closes for Christmas and then it will be New Year before anything happens. I just do not want to repeat last Christmas on my own - with family, saying 'get over it, you knew it was going to happen, they don't let Fijians into Australia easily you know' And when did they all become Immigration department agents I ask myself.
Anyhow I applied pressure to the greek agent with a volcanic response. My sister in law decided to call him and ask him if he had sent the email. He hung up on her.
Great weekend that was. I sent an email authorising her on my behalf as he never seems to listen to me, and never pays any attention to what I say about the embassy in Suva. I have applied three times already; I am not a novice.
Anyhow rang him who must be obeyed and never questioned on the Monday and he was ready to pull the pin. I will not work through someone else. I managed to calm him down and get him to confirm that he would call the embassy and find out.
I waited Tuesday, Wednesday and then Thursday to make sure.
Amanda it is really difficult to call the embassy in Suva - you were right. They do want lots of paperwork. Yes the embassy does stop taking applications in November and yes they do close for Christmas and New Year.
A cheap victory. I just want Chita here.
The Friday before I wilted,and wandered off to hospital, I copied all the phone account, my text to Chita, his texts to me, a sample huge phone bill and my bank statements - with something actually in my account. The following Monday I dragged my tired body to my sister in laws work where she scanned and emailed them to he who must be obeyed.
The next day I was in hospital - so not bad. I have just had an email today asking for one more form which we have already filled out, but who cares lets do it again ( maybe it was misplaced) and Chita is picking up a copy from a friend of ours in Votua who has a computer and printer. Yippee!
We are at the last stage. He could be given the thumbs up in the next couple of weeks. All I want for Christmas is Esita Tubuna in Tassie.
I rang him today and he was flat. If I don't get the visa - we will think of something else. What? I can't get a job in Fiji. He can't get a job anywhere else. What hope have we got?
He has to come to Australia. Its the only way to give ourselves freedom and lots of options. I will not give up. We are so close I can feel it.
I am wishing, and hoping - no intestinal worm for me, and a little stamp in a kind, gentle Fijian male's passport - which will bring a slow beaming smile.
Santa are you listening?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sandwiched, Skint, but Sweaty!
My life in never dull. I am an extremely organised person, I plan things well, I get things done. However, put the word 'Fiji' or the island thereof into the equation and everything I know and understand goes out the window.
It was great to fly Air Pacific to Fiji for a change- instead of arriving tired and half starved on Virgin Blue, I actually got a nice meal, plenty of drinks,a friendly young couple for company and watched movies all the way.... I arrived in Nadi on time and noticed the boys with the ukele are no longer singing - a budgetary cutback no doubt and my transition through customs was seamless. I push my trolley to the ANZ ATM to extract a wad of cash and turn around to seek out the eyes of my beloved, and of course he is not there.
I buy a quick phone card to make a call, as I will never have International Roaming again ( $1600 phone bill) and hear his quiet dulcet tones saying " I am just getting off the bus".
We catch a taxi to Hotel San Bruno, cheap, cheerful and very quiet. My boy has grown very hairy and a beard is something new to adjust to. We take off to an Indian restaurant in Namaka for Tandoori prawns and duck curry.
I wake to the glorious heat and sunshine of Fiji only to fall in a complete heap. I stay lounging on my bed while Chita runs around on errands. I have had a coughing virus which has worn me out and its nice to hand over to someone else for a change. I eventually get dressed and we head off to Port Denarau for dinner. We sit at one of the cafes on the esplanade and enjoy sitting outdoors.
Sunday morning I had planned for us to catch a boat to Castaway to lounge around the pool with my brother and his family. Not to be. No bathers, sarong and thongs for me. We arrive early to find the booking station besieged and only one place to the island - Castaway only takes 15 day trippers a day. Buggar. I should have booked it yesterday but could not move. Instead Chita says 'Let's hire a car' Part of me wanted to say - no bloody way, I am too tired, its going to make me more tired, and we will be driving miles I know it" and then the soft side of me - I love this man, why don't I just give him what he wants' and therein lies my biggest mistake. Do not overide the I am too tired, and I really don't need this button. We head off to Satellite cars from whom I will never, ever, ever hire another car. I hired a car for the day last trip and had to beat them down on price and conditions. This time, it was way too expensive, no give, and the cost horrendous. I gave in. Why oh why?
We drove to Lautoka to drop off a photo to Chita's daughter Ranadi; who was not home. Let's drive down to Votua and I can show you the renovations to the shop and no one will see us, so we can escape again.
I knew it. An hour and a half later we hit Votua, have a look at the shop -which is going to be great. The building has been extended, the roof is being redone, the bathroom and toilet block concrete foundations have been laid and it looks like the plans developed by Fabi (an Italian friend) and Dege, her partner, have been well thought out.
I have time for a quick swim and we are off.
Please can we stop in Sigatoka?
Okay. As we drive around the roundabout, a van and car appear on our left and block our turn. I stop and Mr Grog in his fluoro green four wheel drive, goes right up the back of us. I step out, and there is a dent in the panel as well as a dent in the bumper bar.
No I didn't do anything. It was already there.
We had not had a condition report so I wasn't sure.
Chita, get out and have a look.
There is a dent, but its not your fault, don't worry about it.
I drove back to Nadi in an absolute lather, repeating over and over to myself why do I do these things when I don't have money in reserve to pay.
Sure enough the fine print states driver is responsible for all damages even if caused by another driver. Driver is also to pay up to $4,000 damage. Great.
I head off to the Satellite office for a fight and of course try madly to getout of it, but they have my credit card details and I have to pay. I manage to take a few hundred off the bill and then I realise that once I have paid that + the balance in cash - we have no holiday fund.
I was livid, pissed off, frothing at the mouth, and when the guy from Satellite dropped my off at our hotel, saying 'See you next time Amanda' I muttered 'Not bloody likely' and let the bomb drop on my relaxed boy lying on the bed watching tv.
I am never hiring a car again in Fiji. This is the last straw! It costs a fortune and now I have to pay damages for something I did not do. We are now officially skint so forget daytrips and romantic getaways - we have no money.
Will you have to go home?
What? Miss ever resourceful has got Chita's mobile phone out and quickly texting two friends who knew I was already scraping the bottom of the barrell to go, and had offered financial back up. Lucky I have good friends...
Lucky I had already paid for the accomdation in Suva at the Quest appartments for a week, and lucky I had already bought some food, so we were not destitute.
I am so over this half life we have in Fiji. I don't get the tropical holiday, I get living a city life with Chita in preparation for Oz and getting the visa organised - boring paperwork. I want real holidays with my man from here on in. I am so sick of being financially strapped. I am so sick of budgeting. I am so sick of this drain on my time, energy and resources. Give us the visa please...
Can we please move on from this half life to fun times in Oz in December.
I have all my family, friends and colleagues going - when's he coming? As if its tomorrow. 'Soon' is my reply. Everything moves so quickly here in Oz, no one can believe I have had to wait this bloody long, and the Department of Immigration could stretch it out until December, or refuse us, or ask for more information and delay us and then its the Migrant's tribunal with a migration barrister or get married and wait for a spouse visa - spend more money and wait all over again.... I hope this prospective spouse visa works. Fewer hurdles to overcome were the famous last words of my migration agent.... we shall see.
Anyhow I spent the rest of the day flat as you can imagine and thought" Come on, get over it, you only have a week with Chita- try and have fun!
Chita really likes the Quest appartments as it feels like we live in our own little world, our own little pad, and we live like a couple. He wakes up early and makes coffee. Then he runs off to get the papers. I make him a cooked breakast. We lounge about. Plan our day - a walk - a shop - a trip to the pictures $5 thank god and cheap as chips. He loves watching television and is a complete remote control freak.
We talk a lot about what we want to do and I am happy knowing Fabi and Dege are coming on board with the shop. We have put so much into it, and I have had a real issue dealing with the fact I can't be there to help make it grow into a real cafe. It tortures me, but I am the breadwinner at this stage and have no choice. Fabi and Dege had a guest house with no lease and have been kicked out after 5 years of renovating the place, so they needed a place to stay. We have negotiated in true island style, a place for them to live on the beach strip while they in return renovate the shop and make some additions. They are also going to build two bures - one for them and one for us - so Chita and I will have somewhere to stay when we visit and we can also rent it out to people passing by which will be good.
We had lunch with Fabi and Dege in Suva on the last Thursday and I suddenly discovered we were off to the accountant to sign an agreement and I had only seen it for five minutes and told Chita we needed to discuss it further. Avoidance is great in the Fijian male, especially when they know there is going to be an argument and they just want to keep the peace.
I was again volcanic but managed to keep it under control during the meeting. The agreement was okay. However, discussions of partnerships and setting up companies threw me, as I had not even had a chance to get my head around how the shop is going to managed while we are in Australia. My gut reaction is to lease the business to Fabi and Dege for two years with a review.... I don't want to spend any more serious money until I am ready to get his wood fired oven bakery off the ground.
I was in turmoil emotionally. I want so badly to be in Fiji and get this up and running but we don't have the money. I want to build a two bedroom shack so we can live a simple life and we don't have the money. I am constantly supporting the shop, saving up for this visa, and then spending any potential savings going back and forth to Fiji -it has been the most testing time of my life and I advise others to think carefully.
Of course I love him, and want to be with him. I have tried so hard to get a reasonably well paid job in Fiji but with the coup - no go. I have tried to get grants- but they are no go. Its not meant to be at this stage. Chita needs to come here, and learn about my life and develop a work ethic which will help grow the business in Fiji.
I know I always go for a challenge and the challenges won't stop when he gets here.
How is going to cope with the cold in Tassie? Don't know.
What kind of work does he want to do? I am hoping he will give anything a go.
What if he doesn't like it? He is coming here to get married to me - Tassie is full of wineries, great places to visit and lots of great food - what's not to like?
You are going to find it difficult when he comes as he adjusts to life in Oz - Yep just like he had to adjust to me making blunders through his culture in the four months I stayed with him last year.
I have to stay positive- its my only hope!
It was great to fly Air Pacific to Fiji for a change- instead of arriving tired and half starved on Virgin Blue, I actually got a nice meal, plenty of drinks,a friendly young couple for company and watched movies all the way.... I arrived in Nadi on time and noticed the boys with the ukele are no longer singing - a budgetary cutback no doubt and my transition through customs was seamless. I push my trolley to the ANZ ATM to extract a wad of cash and turn around to seek out the eyes of my beloved, and of course he is not there.
I buy a quick phone card to make a call, as I will never have International Roaming again ( $1600 phone bill) and hear his quiet dulcet tones saying " I am just getting off the bus".
We catch a taxi to Hotel San Bruno, cheap, cheerful and very quiet. My boy has grown very hairy and a beard is something new to adjust to. We take off to an Indian restaurant in Namaka for Tandoori prawns and duck curry.
I wake to the glorious heat and sunshine of Fiji only to fall in a complete heap. I stay lounging on my bed while Chita runs around on errands. I have had a coughing virus which has worn me out and its nice to hand over to someone else for a change. I eventually get dressed and we head off to Port Denarau for dinner. We sit at one of the cafes on the esplanade and enjoy sitting outdoors.
Sunday morning I had planned for us to catch a boat to Castaway to lounge around the pool with my brother and his family. Not to be. No bathers, sarong and thongs for me. We arrive early to find the booking station besieged and only one place to the island - Castaway only takes 15 day trippers a day. Buggar. I should have booked it yesterday but could not move. Instead Chita says 'Let's hire a car' Part of me wanted to say - no bloody way, I am too tired, its going to make me more tired, and we will be driving miles I know it" and then the soft side of me - I love this man, why don't I just give him what he wants' and therein lies my biggest mistake. Do not overide the I am too tired, and I really don't need this button. We head off to Satellite cars from whom I will never, ever, ever hire another car. I hired a car for the day last trip and had to beat them down on price and conditions. This time, it was way too expensive, no give, and the cost horrendous. I gave in. Why oh why?
We drove to Lautoka to drop off a photo to Chita's daughter Ranadi; who was not home. Let's drive down to Votua and I can show you the renovations to the shop and no one will see us, so we can escape again.
I knew it. An hour and a half later we hit Votua, have a look at the shop -which is going to be great. The building has been extended, the roof is being redone, the bathroom and toilet block concrete foundations have been laid and it looks like the plans developed by Fabi (an Italian friend) and Dege, her partner, have been well thought out.
I have time for a quick swim and we are off.
Please can we stop in Sigatoka?
Okay. As we drive around the roundabout, a van and car appear on our left and block our turn. I stop and Mr Grog in his fluoro green four wheel drive, goes right up the back of us. I step out, and there is a dent in the panel as well as a dent in the bumper bar.
No I didn't do anything. It was already there.
We had not had a condition report so I wasn't sure.
Chita, get out and have a look.
There is a dent, but its not your fault, don't worry about it.
I drove back to Nadi in an absolute lather, repeating over and over to myself why do I do these things when I don't have money in reserve to pay.
Sure enough the fine print states driver is responsible for all damages even if caused by another driver. Driver is also to pay up to $4,000 damage. Great.
I head off to the Satellite office for a fight and of course try madly to getout of it, but they have my credit card details and I have to pay. I manage to take a few hundred off the bill and then I realise that once I have paid that + the balance in cash - we have no holiday fund.
I was livid, pissed off, frothing at the mouth, and when the guy from Satellite dropped my off at our hotel, saying 'See you next time Amanda' I muttered 'Not bloody likely' and let the bomb drop on my relaxed boy lying on the bed watching tv.
I am never hiring a car again in Fiji. This is the last straw! It costs a fortune and now I have to pay damages for something I did not do. We are now officially skint so forget daytrips and romantic getaways - we have no money.
Will you have to go home?
What? Miss ever resourceful has got Chita's mobile phone out and quickly texting two friends who knew I was already scraping the bottom of the barrell to go, and had offered financial back up. Lucky I have good friends...
Lucky I had already paid for the accomdation in Suva at the Quest appartments for a week, and lucky I had already bought some food, so we were not destitute.
I am so over this half life we have in Fiji. I don't get the tropical holiday, I get living a city life with Chita in preparation for Oz and getting the visa organised - boring paperwork. I want real holidays with my man from here on in. I am so sick of being financially strapped. I am so sick of budgeting. I am so sick of this drain on my time, energy and resources. Give us the visa please...
Can we please move on from this half life to fun times in Oz in December.
I have all my family, friends and colleagues going - when's he coming? As if its tomorrow. 'Soon' is my reply. Everything moves so quickly here in Oz, no one can believe I have had to wait this bloody long, and the Department of Immigration could stretch it out until December, or refuse us, or ask for more information and delay us and then its the Migrant's tribunal with a migration barrister or get married and wait for a spouse visa - spend more money and wait all over again.... I hope this prospective spouse visa works. Fewer hurdles to overcome were the famous last words of my migration agent.... we shall see.
Anyhow I spent the rest of the day flat as you can imagine and thought" Come on, get over it, you only have a week with Chita- try and have fun!
Chita really likes the Quest appartments as it feels like we live in our own little world, our own little pad, and we live like a couple. He wakes up early and makes coffee. Then he runs off to get the papers. I make him a cooked breakast. We lounge about. Plan our day - a walk - a shop - a trip to the pictures $5 thank god and cheap as chips. He loves watching television and is a complete remote control freak.
We talk a lot about what we want to do and I am happy knowing Fabi and Dege are coming on board with the shop. We have put so much into it, and I have had a real issue dealing with the fact I can't be there to help make it grow into a real cafe. It tortures me, but I am the breadwinner at this stage and have no choice. Fabi and Dege had a guest house with no lease and have been kicked out after 5 years of renovating the place, so they needed a place to stay. We have negotiated in true island style, a place for them to live on the beach strip while they in return renovate the shop and make some additions. They are also going to build two bures - one for them and one for us - so Chita and I will have somewhere to stay when we visit and we can also rent it out to people passing by which will be good.
We had lunch with Fabi and Dege in Suva on the last Thursday and I suddenly discovered we were off to the accountant to sign an agreement and I had only seen it for five minutes and told Chita we needed to discuss it further. Avoidance is great in the Fijian male, especially when they know there is going to be an argument and they just want to keep the peace.
I was again volcanic but managed to keep it under control during the meeting. The agreement was okay. However, discussions of partnerships and setting up companies threw me, as I had not even had a chance to get my head around how the shop is going to managed while we are in Australia. My gut reaction is to lease the business to Fabi and Dege for two years with a review.... I don't want to spend any more serious money until I am ready to get his wood fired oven bakery off the ground.
I was in turmoil emotionally. I want so badly to be in Fiji and get this up and running but we don't have the money. I want to build a two bedroom shack so we can live a simple life and we don't have the money. I am constantly supporting the shop, saving up for this visa, and then spending any potential savings going back and forth to Fiji -it has been the most testing time of my life and I advise others to think carefully.
Of course I love him, and want to be with him. I have tried so hard to get a reasonably well paid job in Fiji but with the coup - no go. I have tried to get grants- but they are no go. Its not meant to be at this stage. Chita needs to come here, and learn about my life and develop a work ethic which will help grow the business in Fiji.
I know I always go for a challenge and the challenges won't stop when he gets here.
How is going to cope with the cold in Tassie? Don't know.
What kind of work does he want to do? I am hoping he will give anything a go.
What if he doesn't like it? He is coming here to get married to me - Tassie is full of wineries, great places to visit and lots of great food - what's not to like?
You are going to find it difficult when he comes as he adjusts to life in Oz - Yep just like he had to adjust to me making blunders through his culture in the four months I stayed with him last year.
I have to stay positive- its my only hope!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Fiji in September!
I have managed a cheap direct flight from Hobart to Nadi online - Yippee! Air Pacific for a change. I am finding the Virgin Blue seats very narrow and had a bout of back pain last time I was coming back from Nadi to Sydney caused me to walk up and down the aisles for an hour or so.
I have become more adventurous recently in booking flights and accomodation online. I used Wotif.com for a week at Mana island in January which was great. I have used LastMinute.com to book four nights at the Quest appartments in Suva twice now. I used travel.com to book my flight to Fiji. Its all very interesting. I went to Air Pacific website and couldn't find a cheap deal, then through an online wholesaler I have done good. Its worth a try.
I told my brother that I can save him heaps next year if he wants a holiday on Castaway again - I can organise flights, accomodation,transfers, and a stay over night in Nadi - all online. Who needs a travel agent I say?
The only issue with booking online are the conditions for change. If you book with an airline, you have the opportunity to change with specific fares, with online bookings with wotif, last minute, Asia Hotels, Hotels.com etc there are charges to making a change. However, I saved myself money this trip, but more than that I saved time. I am leaving on Friday September 5th on an early flight to Sydney, and flying out at one o'clock on an afternoon flight to Nadi. Usually with Virgin Blue I have to fly to Sydney the night before, stay overnight somewhere, spend $100 in taxi fares, and leave for Nadi the next day; whereas this flight just leaves me sitting in Sydney airport reading a book or a magazine..... I am very happy.
I have also managed a free flight on frequent flyers - something I have never done before.
I have also organised 4 nights at the Quest Appartments in Suva, where Chita and I will behave like an old married couple. We go shopping for meals at the supermarket, have dinner together and watch tv or go to the movies...domestic bliss.
Its all turning out better than I had hoped.
I have had friends through this blogsite who have gone to Fiji and met Chita. He is always there with a smile, and happy to talk. I miss hanging out with him. I used to walk up to the shop every morning for a coffee, a chat, and breakfast if I was lucky. He makes great Fijian pancakes.
I love the heat, I miss that tropical vista which is always so beautiful and appealing. I miss being warm to my bones. Winter in Tassie is cold, and my body doesn't like it, as my physio can attest.
Chita decided to text me yesterday morning at 5.30 am and wake me up.... he knows I am not a morning person, whereas he is. He opens his eyes, leaps out of bed, checks on the weather for the day, has a shower immediately and then starts making coffee (one good thing I have taught him) while I usually roll over... I was lying in the dark waiting for the sun to rise, while he was sitting on the deck, full sunlight on a warm sunny day in Fiji, asking me questions about our holiday. He needs a day off, he told me - a sign of a lot of physically demanding hard work.
He has been extending the shop for the last couple of weeks. He is adding a room with a bathroom which I have been dreaming of, for about a couple of years.... so I can't wait to see his handywork. Last time I rang there were discussions about the toilet and shower - we want to minimise impact on the reef.
I rang him last night to tell him what I have organised for our short week in Fiji together, and he was lying in the hammock, with his bible, looking for strength. I am very proud of his dedication, determination and persistence.
A long distance relationship tests all your fears. I know he loves me. I know I love him. I used to wonder if he would be tempted by other women,but now I don't go there. Our relationship is built on trust.
I have seen the way some Fijian men behave, and I don't like it. Treat others the way you wish to be treated is my mantra. I think that working on creating a line of communication which bridged both our cultures, and gave us a way to talk to each other openly and honestly was the only way we were going to overcome continual cultural misunderstandings,and perceived bad behaviour from two cultures. I ignore village law, and he sometimes behaves like an Fijian male who does what he likes.... to be railed in and reprimanded occasionally. Its not easy. I sometimes find it hard to be calm. He used to walk off on me and come back four hours later, now the turn around is around 1-3 minutes. He still walks off, but calms himself down, and comes back in to talk.
I have had friends dying lately; I have had friends breaking up with their marriages and here we are dreaming of having a life together. It feels strange. I thought I would be married in my 20's it never happened. I could have married the first boy who asked me, but he has a bland palate and we would never have lasted. I could have married a Sicilian, but I would be living in a boring suburb of Milan, putting up with his awful family. Instead I am a grown up, wanting a life with a Fijian male, who is gentle, kind and loyal- something I could never have imagined...
But life is never dull for me. I face problems, most people don't, I am learning about another culture I knew little or nothing about. Its made me political. I was hoping the Rudd government would bring about serious changes to our migration policy but he has already excluded Fiji from the Pacific Seasonal workers scheme. I hate bureaucracy - six months to process a fiance visa!! Australia's reaction to the December coup 2006 was way out - it was not a violent coup. Considering how long we have been dealing with Fiji, you would think our goverment would understand the tribal nature influencing pacific governance and be a bit more tolerant. I am warming up to an article in one of the major papers on life in Fiji today.....
I have become more adventurous recently in booking flights and accomodation online. I used Wotif.com for a week at Mana island in January which was great. I have used LastMinute.com to book four nights at the Quest appartments in Suva twice now. I used travel.com to book my flight to Fiji. Its all very interesting. I went to Air Pacific website and couldn't find a cheap deal, then through an online wholesaler I have done good. Its worth a try.
I told my brother that I can save him heaps next year if he wants a holiday on Castaway again - I can organise flights, accomodation,transfers, and a stay over night in Nadi - all online. Who needs a travel agent I say?
The only issue with booking online are the conditions for change. If you book with an airline, you have the opportunity to change with specific fares, with online bookings with wotif, last minute, Asia Hotels, Hotels.com etc there are charges to making a change. However, I saved myself money this trip, but more than that I saved time. I am leaving on Friday September 5th on an early flight to Sydney, and flying out at one o'clock on an afternoon flight to Nadi. Usually with Virgin Blue I have to fly to Sydney the night before, stay overnight somewhere, spend $100 in taxi fares, and leave for Nadi the next day; whereas this flight just leaves me sitting in Sydney airport reading a book or a magazine..... I am very happy.
I have also managed a free flight on frequent flyers - something I have never done before.
I have also organised 4 nights at the Quest Appartments in Suva, where Chita and I will behave like an old married couple. We go shopping for meals at the supermarket, have dinner together and watch tv or go to the movies...domestic bliss.
Its all turning out better than I had hoped.
I have had friends through this blogsite who have gone to Fiji and met Chita. He is always there with a smile, and happy to talk. I miss hanging out with him. I used to walk up to the shop every morning for a coffee, a chat, and breakfast if I was lucky. He makes great Fijian pancakes.
I love the heat, I miss that tropical vista which is always so beautiful and appealing. I miss being warm to my bones. Winter in Tassie is cold, and my body doesn't like it, as my physio can attest.
Chita decided to text me yesterday morning at 5.30 am and wake me up.... he knows I am not a morning person, whereas he is. He opens his eyes, leaps out of bed, checks on the weather for the day, has a shower immediately and then starts making coffee (one good thing I have taught him) while I usually roll over... I was lying in the dark waiting for the sun to rise, while he was sitting on the deck, full sunlight on a warm sunny day in Fiji, asking me questions about our holiday. He needs a day off, he told me - a sign of a lot of physically demanding hard work.
He has been extending the shop for the last couple of weeks. He is adding a room with a bathroom which I have been dreaming of, for about a couple of years.... so I can't wait to see his handywork. Last time I rang there were discussions about the toilet and shower - we want to minimise impact on the reef.
I rang him last night to tell him what I have organised for our short week in Fiji together, and he was lying in the hammock, with his bible, looking for strength. I am very proud of his dedication, determination and persistence.
A long distance relationship tests all your fears. I know he loves me. I know I love him. I used to wonder if he would be tempted by other women,but now I don't go there. Our relationship is built on trust.
I have seen the way some Fijian men behave, and I don't like it. Treat others the way you wish to be treated is my mantra. I think that working on creating a line of communication which bridged both our cultures, and gave us a way to talk to each other openly and honestly was the only way we were going to overcome continual cultural misunderstandings,and perceived bad behaviour from two cultures. I ignore village law, and he sometimes behaves like an Fijian male who does what he likes.... to be railed in and reprimanded occasionally. Its not easy. I sometimes find it hard to be calm. He used to walk off on me and come back four hours later, now the turn around is around 1-3 minutes. He still walks off, but calms himself down, and comes back in to talk.
I have had friends dying lately; I have had friends breaking up with their marriages and here we are dreaming of having a life together. It feels strange. I thought I would be married in my 20's it never happened. I could have married the first boy who asked me, but he has a bland palate and we would never have lasted. I could have married a Sicilian, but I would be living in a boring suburb of Milan, putting up with his awful family. Instead I am a grown up, wanting a life with a Fijian male, who is gentle, kind and loyal- something I could never have imagined...
But life is never dull for me. I face problems, most people don't, I am learning about another culture I knew little or nothing about. Its made me political. I was hoping the Rudd government would bring about serious changes to our migration policy but he has already excluded Fiji from the Pacific Seasonal workers scheme. I hate bureaucracy - six months to process a fiance visa!! Australia's reaction to the December coup 2006 was way out - it was not a violent coup. Considering how long we have been dealing with Fiji, you would think our goverment would understand the tribal nature influencing pacific governance and be a bit more tolerant. I am warming up to an article in one of the major papers on life in Fiji today.....
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Good and Bad News!
I have been super optimistic lately, not fretting, not thinking negative thoughts. Chita has been up to Suva a few times to push his medical, x-ray and today his police clearance. It appears to be moving forward.
In my mind I had visualised his arrival as September/October and now I have a letter from the Department stating our visa will take 6 months so the interview date is, wait for it, the 9th of December 2008. Blimey. I knew it could take 4- 10 months so its exactly in between.
Part of me feels like going to Fiji and getting married, but that would upset the visa process and who knows how much longer we would have to wait....
I am philosophical about it, but I am also thinking, six months without seeing Chita. I don't think so. I have just forked out for an appartment, now have regular bills, and am trying to set up something for us here, and today I have been scrabbling around on the internet trying to find cheap fares from Hobart to Nadi and back. I have been working out my pay to see if I have enough money to go. Not really. Chita wants a holiday but no funds available.
Will he have the room on the shop built? Maybe, maybe not. A week at his mum's... will mean having to incorporate village festivities and responsibilities into our week and I don't want to.
Will wait for a miracle on wotif.com or lastminute.com.
Good news is that we have found a couple to look after the shop if Chita ever gets to Australia. An Italian friend of ours, who I had wanted to work with last year, has just lost her guest house - no lease, five years of renovation and maintenance and now the wily Indian owner wants to sell and she has no money to buy....
Business is very risky in Fiji.
Anyhow, I had discussed my wood fired oven idea- making our own bread, pizza and cakes and selling to passing traffic- and maybe it could just work. A contract is required I told Chita, and he agreed.
So much for us building a house in Fiji, working in Australia, travelling around Tassie together, and then further afield to Japan, where Chita lived off and on for three years, and back to Sicily for me.... in September 2009 would be nice.
Am applying for jobs, with a higher salary and more senior role to cope with this constant drain on my resources. At present I get to see my love, my partner, for 1-2 weeks every three months..... no wonder people give up... am I insane? am I enjoying this torture on some level? what am I getting out of it? not a lot at present....i know how African refugees feel. This is madness!
Our official letter requesting extra information was wrong - they had ticked the wrong boxes. I hope it is sent to Australia and processed here, otherwise with Fiji time, who knows how long it will take.... my patience is wearing thin...
In my mind I had visualised his arrival as September/October and now I have a letter from the Department stating our visa will take 6 months so the interview date is, wait for it, the 9th of December 2008. Blimey. I knew it could take 4- 10 months so its exactly in between.
Part of me feels like going to Fiji and getting married, but that would upset the visa process and who knows how much longer we would have to wait....
I am philosophical about it, but I am also thinking, six months without seeing Chita. I don't think so. I have just forked out for an appartment, now have regular bills, and am trying to set up something for us here, and today I have been scrabbling around on the internet trying to find cheap fares from Hobart to Nadi and back. I have been working out my pay to see if I have enough money to go. Not really. Chita wants a holiday but no funds available.
Will he have the room on the shop built? Maybe, maybe not. A week at his mum's... will mean having to incorporate village festivities and responsibilities into our week and I don't want to.
Will wait for a miracle on wotif.com or lastminute.com.
Good news is that we have found a couple to look after the shop if Chita ever gets to Australia. An Italian friend of ours, who I had wanted to work with last year, has just lost her guest house - no lease, five years of renovation and maintenance and now the wily Indian owner wants to sell and she has no money to buy....
Business is very risky in Fiji.
Anyhow, I had discussed my wood fired oven idea- making our own bread, pizza and cakes and selling to passing traffic- and maybe it could just work. A contract is required I told Chita, and he agreed.
So much for us building a house in Fiji, working in Australia, travelling around Tassie together, and then further afield to Japan, where Chita lived off and on for three years, and back to Sicily for me.... in September 2009 would be nice.
Am applying for jobs, with a higher salary and more senior role to cope with this constant drain on my resources. At present I get to see my love, my partner, for 1-2 weeks every three months..... no wonder people give up... am I insane? am I enjoying this torture on some level? what am I getting out of it? not a lot at present....i know how African refugees feel. This is madness!
Our official letter requesting extra information was wrong - they had ticked the wrong boxes. I hope it is sent to Australia and processed here, otherwise with Fiji time, who knows how long it will take.... my patience is wearing thin...
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
How to know if a Fijian man is married?
I have been getting heaps of emails, and chatting to women in much the same predicament as myself. We have all been mesmerised by the lush green tropical setting of Fiji, blue lagoons and white waves crashing on the fringes. Then along comes a sweet, gentle, smiling Fijian who is just so friendly. Yep I fell for it too.
How do you know if they are single? married? available? The only way I found out was by going and living in Chita's bure for six weeks. Every night and day I was surrounded by Fijian men; I met his family and European friends and I just sort of worked it out that he is free. There is no one else in his life.
Spending three months of the year apart, makes it hard. I sometimes do think - maybe he could be with someone else- then I ring him up and he is at the cafe, or walking along the road, or sitting with friends on a hillside nearby. I have to trust him.
Fiji is close to Australia. That is the trap. You can actually contemplate coming back and developing a friendship - if it was Madagascar you'd think, 'Oh well, I've met a great guy but this is never going to work'.
Let me tell you now, its not easy. Its bloody hard work. I spend three months of the year on my own. We talk a lot by phone. We share our two lives over the phone, but we do not have a life together. I have tried to get a job in Fiji but I cannot live on $20,000. Applying for this fiance visa has been a hard journey. It took me three months just to put the documents together. Then I had to hand over a huge amount of cash to an immigration agent.... then sit and wait.... a month to the day of our initial application, Chita receives a call from the Immigration department in Suva to come for a medical, x-ray and to obtain a police clearance. He tried to wake me at 6.30 am but I was of course dreaming of other things. He waited two hours until I woke up and eventually found his message then off he went.
Its a big deal - getting involved with someone from another culture. In Fijian culture everyone knows how to respond to different situations; its not verbalised; its internalised. Its difficult to sometimes know if you are making a big blunder or not - those smiling faces will never give it away.
Is he married? The only way to find out is to ask his friends and family.
If you marry a Fijian, you marry a clan, and a village. I am about to pay $100 for transport for the body of chita's cousin's grandmother because no one else can pay. Each clan is given a responsibility and as I am the only one working and earning we have to contribute.... that's the Fijian way..... If you are loaded you probably won't mind, but if you are middle of the road like me, every cent counts. I am busy setting up a flat for Chita and I to live in when he gets here.
It could be soon! September/October I am hoping....
I have bought a charcoal grey couch today, two cube book shelves and now I am scouting around for a small flat screen tv..... after that I will be saving to take my boy on a road trip around the apple isle....
Are you ready for all this??
I wasn't, but now I am in it up to my neck, I just keep trying to move forward.
Moce.
How do you know if they are single? married? available? The only way I found out was by going and living in Chita's bure for six weeks. Every night and day I was surrounded by Fijian men; I met his family and European friends and I just sort of worked it out that he is free. There is no one else in his life.
Spending three months of the year apart, makes it hard. I sometimes do think - maybe he could be with someone else- then I ring him up and he is at the cafe, or walking along the road, or sitting with friends on a hillside nearby. I have to trust him.
Fiji is close to Australia. That is the trap. You can actually contemplate coming back and developing a friendship - if it was Madagascar you'd think, 'Oh well, I've met a great guy but this is never going to work'.
Let me tell you now, its not easy. Its bloody hard work. I spend three months of the year on my own. We talk a lot by phone. We share our two lives over the phone, but we do not have a life together. I have tried to get a job in Fiji but I cannot live on $20,000. Applying for this fiance visa has been a hard journey. It took me three months just to put the documents together. Then I had to hand over a huge amount of cash to an immigration agent.... then sit and wait.... a month to the day of our initial application, Chita receives a call from the Immigration department in Suva to come for a medical, x-ray and to obtain a police clearance. He tried to wake me at 6.30 am but I was of course dreaming of other things. He waited two hours until I woke up and eventually found his message then off he went.
Its a big deal - getting involved with someone from another culture. In Fijian culture everyone knows how to respond to different situations; its not verbalised; its internalised. Its difficult to sometimes know if you are making a big blunder or not - those smiling faces will never give it away.
Is he married? The only way to find out is to ask his friends and family.
If you marry a Fijian, you marry a clan, and a village. I am about to pay $100 for transport for the body of chita's cousin's grandmother because no one else can pay. Each clan is given a responsibility and as I am the only one working and earning we have to contribute.... that's the Fijian way..... If you are loaded you probably won't mind, but if you are middle of the road like me, every cent counts. I am busy setting up a flat for Chita and I to live in when he gets here.
It could be soon! September/October I am hoping....
I have bought a charcoal grey couch today, two cube book shelves and now I am scouting around for a small flat screen tv..... after that I will be saving to take my boy on a road trip around the apple isle....
Are you ready for all this??
I wasn't, but now I am in it up to my neck, I just keep trying to move forward.
Moce.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Taste of the Tropics!
If you have read my profile, you will know I am a cook, and a bloody good one,if I do say so myself. I trained in Italy, and then went to college back in Australia and was immersed in the confining and restrictive techniques of French Cuisine.
Having been such a gypsy for the last twenty years; while everyone was marrying and having children, I was travelling. Everywhere I went, I found myself in a kitchen asking questions and either cooking with locals, or taking recipe ideas home with me and turning things into easy and impressive dishes.
When I first started training I was a zealot and the more complicated and difficult, and the more time it took, I was there- all the way. These days I prefer talking to friends rather than being stuck in a kitchen, so I come up with dishes that can be cooked and served quickly so I can sit at the table with a glass of wine and enjoy everyone's company.
I have put together a few menus lately, and thought I might share one or two of them.
Taste of the tropics - luncheon
Salt and pepper squid on a rocket and orange salad
Prawn curry - so easy you won't believe it
Tropical fruit tart with mascarpone
Salt and Pepper squid
For 4 people
I do it a little differently to the Asians.
2 large squid tubes or 4 small squid tubes frozen
salt and pepper
flour
Variation - paprika, chilli powder, onion powder, garlic powder
Lime wedges
Oli for frying
Deep fryer or heavy based small pot
Rocket and Orange salad
Mixed rocket and spinach leaves- washed
8-10 snow peas- finely sliced
1-2 oranges,peeled and cut into small segments
Snow pea sprouts - a handful
Dressing-
Lemon or lime juice with oil and 2 tsp sugar
I usually make individual salads and hold the dressing until the squid is cooked.
Slice the squid into really thin rings,wafer thin as possible. Pile them up.
On a plate or in a tray, put 1 cup plain flour, 6 tsp of salt, as much fresh pepper as you can grind.
Heat up a pot of oil, and quickly coat the squid in the mixture. It sounds like a lot of salt and it is, but each piece only gets a little bit.
Dip into hot oil, it will cook in seconds. Scoop the squid out onto a plate lined with paper towel and keep going. Pile squid ontop of salad and then drizzle dressing.
Serve at once.
Prawn curry
1 kg cooked large cooked or better yet uncooked prawns
1 bottle of Mrs Pataks Jalfreezi
400 gr rice
1 lime zest and juice
You can cook the rice in the microwave or a pot. A trick I learnt from a friend in the UK is to put the rice in a pot, cover with boiling water at least 2 cm above. I just guess. Cover with a lid and cook for 12 minutes. Take off the lid, remove from heat, cover with a teatowel and leave for 10 minutes before serving. I squeeze lime juice and sprinkle lime zest on top. EASY!
The prawn curry is too simple. Put garlic and oil into a skillet or frypan. Saute prawns and then throw in the sauce. Simmer until sauce thickens and serve.
Accompaniment -
steamed chinese broccoli with oyster sauce.
Steam the broccoli and drizzle oyster sauce - a cinch.
Dessert is more of an effort but not much.
Tropical fruit tart
1 packet of granita biscuits
125 gr butter melted
500 gr of mascarpone
zest of 1 orange
2 tblsp icing sugar
300 ml of whipped cream
tropical fruit of your choice- sliced and scattered on top - pineapple, mango, kiwi, star fruit,
1 tin of passionfruit pulp
To make the biscuit base- In a food processor blitz the biscuits to crumb. Mix with melted butter in a bowl and press into a lined springform tin. Chill in freezer for 10 minutes.
To make the orange mascarpone cream - In a food processor or a kitchen aid (I have wanted one for years...) whip the cream, mascarpone, icing sugar and orange zest together. Cover with orange mascarpone cream and decorate with fruit.
Finishing touch- in a small pan heat up the passionfruit pulp and add 1-2 tblsp caster sugar to thicken it. Sauce must coat the back of a spoon. Chill. Pour over the top of the fruit tart and serve chilled.
Watch it disappear in less than ten minutes as everyone initially asks for a small piece, and then ends up asking for more.
So cooking is my passion but I don't have a kitchen. Its ironical really, as I know heaps of people who have put in great kitchens in their homes but keep them sparkling and never cook. Why buy a smeg oven if you are only going to reheat??? I don't get it.
Here I am the happy wanderer who has cooked in kitchens, and in fact anywhere - even a portable barbecue plate on an outdoor fire in Fiji. I will hopefully one day have a home with a kitchen, and cook for friends as well as paying customers...
I believe in serving fresh food, and not doing too much with it...
Hope you enjoy my dishes.... they are too easy...
Vinaka na kana!
Having been such a gypsy for the last twenty years; while everyone was marrying and having children, I was travelling. Everywhere I went, I found myself in a kitchen asking questions and either cooking with locals, or taking recipe ideas home with me and turning things into easy and impressive dishes.
When I first started training I was a zealot and the more complicated and difficult, and the more time it took, I was there- all the way. These days I prefer talking to friends rather than being stuck in a kitchen, so I come up with dishes that can be cooked and served quickly so I can sit at the table with a glass of wine and enjoy everyone's company.
I have put together a few menus lately, and thought I might share one or two of them.
Taste of the tropics - luncheon
Salt and pepper squid on a rocket and orange salad
Prawn curry - so easy you won't believe it
Tropical fruit tart with mascarpone
Salt and Pepper squid
For 4 people
I do it a little differently to the Asians.
2 large squid tubes or 4 small squid tubes frozen
salt and pepper
flour
Variation - paprika, chilli powder, onion powder, garlic powder
Lime wedges
Oli for frying
Deep fryer or heavy based small pot
Rocket and Orange salad
Mixed rocket and spinach leaves- washed
8-10 snow peas- finely sliced
1-2 oranges,peeled and cut into small segments
Snow pea sprouts - a handful
Dressing-
Lemon or lime juice with oil and 2 tsp sugar
I usually make individual salads and hold the dressing until the squid is cooked.
Slice the squid into really thin rings,wafer thin as possible. Pile them up.
On a plate or in a tray, put 1 cup plain flour, 6 tsp of salt, as much fresh pepper as you can grind.
Heat up a pot of oil, and quickly coat the squid in the mixture. It sounds like a lot of salt and it is, but each piece only gets a little bit.
Dip into hot oil, it will cook in seconds. Scoop the squid out onto a plate lined with paper towel and keep going. Pile squid ontop of salad and then drizzle dressing.
Serve at once.
Prawn curry
1 kg cooked large cooked or better yet uncooked prawns
1 bottle of Mrs Pataks Jalfreezi
400 gr rice
1 lime zest and juice
You can cook the rice in the microwave or a pot. A trick I learnt from a friend in the UK is to put the rice in a pot, cover with boiling water at least 2 cm above. I just guess. Cover with a lid and cook for 12 minutes. Take off the lid, remove from heat, cover with a teatowel and leave for 10 minutes before serving. I squeeze lime juice and sprinkle lime zest on top. EASY!
The prawn curry is too simple. Put garlic and oil into a skillet or frypan. Saute prawns and then throw in the sauce. Simmer until sauce thickens and serve.
Accompaniment -
steamed chinese broccoli with oyster sauce.
Steam the broccoli and drizzle oyster sauce - a cinch.
Dessert is more of an effort but not much.
Tropical fruit tart
1 packet of granita biscuits
125 gr butter melted
500 gr of mascarpone
zest of 1 orange
2 tblsp icing sugar
300 ml of whipped cream
tropical fruit of your choice- sliced and scattered on top - pineapple, mango, kiwi, star fruit,
1 tin of passionfruit pulp
To make the biscuit base- In a food processor blitz the biscuits to crumb. Mix with melted butter in a bowl and press into a lined springform tin. Chill in freezer for 10 minutes.
To make the orange mascarpone cream - In a food processor or a kitchen aid (I have wanted one for years...) whip the cream, mascarpone, icing sugar and orange zest together. Cover with orange mascarpone cream and decorate with fruit.
Finishing touch- in a small pan heat up the passionfruit pulp and add 1-2 tblsp caster sugar to thicken it. Sauce must coat the back of a spoon. Chill. Pour over the top of the fruit tart and serve chilled.
Watch it disappear in less than ten minutes as everyone initially asks for a small piece, and then ends up asking for more.
So cooking is my passion but I don't have a kitchen. Its ironical really, as I know heaps of people who have put in great kitchens in their homes but keep them sparkling and never cook. Why buy a smeg oven if you are only going to reheat??? I don't get it.
Here I am the happy wanderer who has cooked in kitchens, and in fact anywhere - even a portable barbecue plate on an outdoor fire in Fiji. I will hopefully one day have a home with a kitchen, and cook for friends as well as paying customers...
I believe in serving fresh food, and not doing too much with it...
Hope you enjoy my dishes.... they are too easy...
Vinaka na kana!
Monday, July 07, 2008
My birthday wish!
Its been a while since I wrote mainly because being in Australia means working hard, continuously and feeling knackered at the end of the day. It was my birthday yesterday and my only wish is for Chita to get here. I am over living apart. Its been a struggle mentally and emotionally for me. I had a massage on Saturday afternoon and the masseur said to me that I had a struggle going on between my left side and my right. Its true. I am torn between being me, and being the working me, efficient, capable and exhausted.
Chita, the man who did not know how to use a mobile three years a go, shocked me on the weekend by ringing me, using free Vodaphone minutes. The fact that he even knew about free minutes, threw me, and then the fact that he actually picked up the phone to ring, blew me away.
His English is so formal on the phone. Well Amanda, I think we need to create an equal situation.
Yes we do.
I have been reluctant to ring the migration agent to find out where we stand in case I get another serve. I think he thinks I am going to go behind his back and put in all the information I have amassed on three and a half years with a Fijian, in business. I am sticking to his list...
However I got an email today saying that the visa has been submitted. I have bits missing which Chita is ready and a waiting to hand in.
What has been really interesting for me, as far as a long distance relationship goes, is knowing I am committed, and being a big picture person, anticipating the wait and not wanting to go through it, and now I am in it, its not too bad. The end for me is in sight. I have friends who recently married in Fiji and after four months she has brought her new husband to Australia.
Meanwhile Chita and I wait for me to pass as a responsible sponsor and he goes under the microscope to make sure he has no police record and no undesirable traits...
Interesting time...
I have never had to wait so long for something in my life. Its longer than Christmas...
Chita has been really vocal in stating how much he misses me.
He told me last Thursday when I rang him that he has been wandering around feeling empty and not wanting to do anything much.
So you love me, was my response.
Is that so was his reply. I have never felt like this before...
Special.
My birthday wish is for him to come to Oz, for us to live together, for him to get some knowledge about running a small business and for us to travel a bit, before committing to go back. I would like to build a beach shack up on the hill, and then attempt to run a business where keri keri- please please help me.... happens every other minute.
Chita has had enough. He is barely making $20-$50 a week and everyone thinks he is loaded...
Chita, the man who did not know how to use a mobile three years a go, shocked me on the weekend by ringing me, using free Vodaphone minutes. The fact that he even knew about free minutes, threw me, and then the fact that he actually picked up the phone to ring, blew me away.
His English is so formal on the phone. Well Amanda, I think we need to create an equal situation.
Yes we do.
I have been reluctant to ring the migration agent to find out where we stand in case I get another serve. I think he thinks I am going to go behind his back and put in all the information I have amassed on three and a half years with a Fijian, in business. I am sticking to his list...
However I got an email today saying that the visa has been submitted. I have bits missing which Chita is ready and a waiting to hand in.
What has been really interesting for me, as far as a long distance relationship goes, is knowing I am committed, and being a big picture person, anticipating the wait and not wanting to go through it, and now I am in it, its not too bad. The end for me is in sight. I have friends who recently married in Fiji and after four months she has brought her new husband to Australia.
Meanwhile Chita and I wait for me to pass as a responsible sponsor and he goes under the microscope to make sure he has no police record and no undesirable traits...
Interesting time...
I have never had to wait so long for something in my life. Its longer than Christmas...
Chita has been really vocal in stating how much he misses me.
He told me last Thursday when I rang him that he has been wandering around feeling empty and not wanting to do anything much.
So you love me, was my response.
Is that so was his reply. I have never felt like this before...
Special.
My birthday wish is for him to come to Oz, for us to live together, for him to get some knowledge about running a small business and for us to travel a bit, before committing to go back. I would like to build a beach shack up on the hill, and then attempt to run a business where keri keri- please please help me.... happens every other minute.
Chita has had enough. He is barely making $20-$50 a week and everyone thinks he is loaded...
Sunday, June 22, 2008
International interfamilial intercultural dilema solving
Thank you to a generous offer from Linda, an American I think. I have been so busy writing blogs I have not had time to read all the comments. Can not contact you as I have no email address to respond to- you are marked as anonymous. Please email me when you get a chance.
Have just arrived back after two weeks with my beloved. We spent two weeks - one in Nadi and one in Suva, with me getting him used to what it will be like when we live together. The first place I chose was a resort full of backpackers and as we are not in that 20's age group we did not lounge around the pool. Chita hates swimming other than for fishing purposes anyway.
Any thought of a romantic stroll down the beach at sunset- a western concept has to be taught
Look, what a beautiful sunset darling!
Yes, replies Fijian male.
Now you need to put your arms around me and kiss me.
Why?
This is called a romantic moment.
Okay, but only if no one is looking....
It was nice to be alone and get used to being intimate with each other. I am talking holding hands, and just playing around. Fijian culture does not allow affection in public, so its also something that Fijian males have to get used to.
To wake him up one afternoon I gently stroked his back. He did not open his eyes to respond, as he said to me later ' No one has ever done that to me before and I really liked it'.
We also cooked dinner at least 2-3 nights in Suva. Chita is great at food preparation, and really enjoyed discussing with me what we could eat for dinner. I would shop and he would prepare. Then I would cook and he would clean up! Perfect for me. He also liked sitting at a table and talking over dinner - whereas back in the village, food is laid out on a long cloth, people come and go, and when you have finished your food, you can up and leave..... I am holding firm on eating together at the same time and talking during dinner. A whole new concept.
We also dined at a few different restaurants. He and I went to a great Indian in Nadi, where you ordered a tray filled with tandoori prawns or duck curry, with accompaniments, rice and roti. We also ended up at the Outer Reef Cafe in Namaka, which I would recommend to anyone visiting Namaka. It did not look much from the outside, so I walked down a long corridor and we emerged into a garden full of lights with a band and lots of friendly, smiling staff. Yes.... I ordered garlic prawns with a baby leaf salad - yes it is possible, and Chita had a kaiviti fish basket which was full of crumbed and battered fish. I should have ordered grilled for my boy.
Fijians have a tendency to run into people, and join them for whatever they are doing in that moment. In fact Fijians live in the here and now, so they get caught up in whatever happens. I arrange to meet Chita at the MH supermarket where I am purchasing ingredients for dinner. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes pass and he has not turned up. He has the card to enter our room. I am pissed off. I lug the shopping back, arrange for one of the boys in the front office to let me into our room and then search around for a phone card so I can ring him.
Where are you?
I am with friends?
What are you doing?
I just ran into someone and they asked me to come for a ride. I will be back at 6 pm.
Why didn't you come back and tell me that instead of leaving me standing outside the supermarket in the rain for half an hour.
You are a big girl Amanda, you can figure this out. You know where we are staying, stop being a baby....
I fumed for an hour and when he returned unleashed the beast.
In my culture, not telling someone where you are going is rude.
Not telling me what you wanted to do - is rude.
Leaving me standing at the MH in the rain - is rude.
He storms off. However, he cannot go far, as we have a room with adjoining balcony and he is looking down on Suva town from six stories up.
Chita you can't keep doing this to me.
I am sorry.
Its a bit hard to get into the routine of telling me everything when I am not around for three to four months at a time and he does whatever he wants, whenever he wants...
However, I have to get him used to deadlines and being punctual. Its obligatory in my culture, although working in horticulture and landscaping, things might be a bit more relaxed.
The last night we were together in Nadi at Smugglers. He goes for a run down the beach and I go for a walk. We meet up in the middle.
Did you see those guys with the net going fishing, I would like to go back and spend some time with them.
No problem.
I better have a shower first.
He heads back to the room, showers, changes into mozzie proof clothes, long pants and a checked shirt.
I watch a polynesian show on the balcony while he goes fishing with the boys.
I will be back in time for dinner he says.
I wait, and I wait and I wait. The show finishes at 8 pm and at 8.30 pm I am getting tetchy as that is our dinner time. At 8.50 pm I walk out of the resort, passing a Staff member Ratu and say
If you see Chita, tell him I am at the Horizon's backpacker having dinner by myself.
he grins at me, and says 'of course'.
At 9.10 pm I see my tall, gangly boy outside the restaurant door.
Bad choice Chita.
Amanda what is wrong?
He has no sense of occasion and how girls need to feel on their last night.
You said you were coming back to have dinner. You left at 7 and come back two hours later. Its not on Chita. I am not spending my life sitting around and waiting for you all the time.
Amanda I went into the resort, and I was running around asking everyone where you had gone.
Did you ask Ratu?
He didn't tell me until I had spent ten minutes running around. He was laughing hard.
Do you get it Chita?
Yes.
I know I am a hard woman. However I am a cook, a generous hostess, and a lover of good food and wine. Wining and dining is my supreme pleasure, and I couldn't handle being back in Tassie waiting and waiting for my Fijian boy to arrive. For me, its disrespectful to the chef or person cooking for us, to be late....
Its my one strong code of conduct.....
Why Oh whY did I pick a Fijian to fall in love with.
Have just arrived back after two weeks with my beloved. We spent two weeks - one in Nadi and one in Suva, with me getting him used to what it will be like when we live together. The first place I chose was a resort full of backpackers and as we are not in that 20's age group we did not lounge around the pool. Chita hates swimming other than for fishing purposes anyway.
Any thought of a romantic stroll down the beach at sunset- a western concept has to be taught
Look, what a beautiful sunset darling!
Yes, replies Fijian male.
Now you need to put your arms around me and kiss me.
Why?
This is called a romantic moment.
Okay, but only if no one is looking....
It was nice to be alone and get used to being intimate with each other. I am talking holding hands, and just playing around. Fijian culture does not allow affection in public, so its also something that Fijian males have to get used to.
To wake him up one afternoon I gently stroked his back. He did not open his eyes to respond, as he said to me later ' No one has ever done that to me before and I really liked it'.
We also cooked dinner at least 2-3 nights in Suva. Chita is great at food preparation, and really enjoyed discussing with me what we could eat for dinner. I would shop and he would prepare. Then I would cook and he would clean up! Perfect for me. He also liked sitting at a table and talking over dinner - whereas back in the village, food is laid out on a long cloth, people come and go, and when you have finished your food, you can up and leave..... I am holding firm on eating together at the same time and talking during dinner. A whole new concept.
We also dined at a few different restaurants. He and I went to a great Indian in Nadi, where you ordered a tray filled with tandoori prawns or duck curry, with accompaniments, rice and roti. We also ended up at the Outer Reef Cafe in Namaka, which I would recommend to anyone visiting Namaka. It did not look much from the outside, so I walked down a long corridor and we emerged into a garden full of lights with a band and lots of friendly, smiling staff. Yes.... I ordered garlic prawns with a baby leaf salad - yes it is possible, and Chita had a kaiviti fish basket which was full of crumbed and battered fish. I should have ordered grilled for my boy.
Fijians have a tendency to run into people, and join them for whatever they are doing in that moment. In fact Fijians live in the here and now, so they get caught up in whatever happens. I arrange to meet Chita at the MH supermarket where I am purchasing ingredients for dinner. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes pass and he has not turned up. He has the card to enter our room. I am pissed off. I lug the shopping back, arrange for one of the boys in the front office to let me into our room and then search around for a phone card so I can ring him.
Where are you?
I am with friends?
What are you doing?
I just ran into someone and they asked me to come for a ride. I will be back at 6 pm.
Why didn't you come back and tell me that instead of leaving me standing outside the supermarket in the rain for half an hour.
You are a big girl Amanda, you can figure this out. You know where we are staying, stop being a baby....
I fumed for an hour and when he returned unleashed the beast.
In my culture, not telling someone where you are going is rude.
Not telling me what you wanted to do - is rude.
Leaving me standing at the MH in the rain - is rude.
He storms off. However, he cannot go far, as we have a room with adjoining balcony and he is looking down on Suva town from six stories up.
Chita you can't keep doing this to me.
I am sorry.
Its a bit hard to get into the routine of telling me everything when I am not around for three to four months at a time and he does whatever he wants, whenever he wants...
However, I have to get him used to deadlines and being punctual. Its obligatory in my culture, although working in horticulture and landscaping, things might be a bit more relaxed.
The last night we were together in Nadi at Smugglers. He goes for a run down the beach and I go for a walk. We meet up in the middle.
Did you see those guys with the net going fishing, I would like to go back and spend some time with them.
No problem.
I better have a shower first.
He heads back to the room, showers, changes into mozzie proof clothes, long pants and a checked shirt.
I watch a polynesian show on the balcony while he goes fishing with the boys.
I will be back in time for dinner he says.
I wait, and I wait and I wait. The show finishes at 8 pm and at 8.30 pm I am getting tetchy as that is our dinner time. At 8.50 pm I walk out of the resort, passing a Staff member Ratu and say
If you see Chita, tell him I am at the Horizon's backpacker having dinner by myself.
he grins at me, and says 'of course'.
At 9.10 pm I see my tall, gangly boy outside the restaurant door.
Bad choice Chita.
Amanda what is wrong?
He has no sense of occasion and how girls need to feel on their last night.
You said you were coming back to have dinner. You left at 7 and come back two hours later. Its not on Chita. I am not spending my life sitting around and waiting for you all the time.
Amanda I went into the resort, and I was running around asking everyone where you had gone.
Did you ask Ratu?
He didn't tell me until I had spent ten minutes running around. He was laughing hard.
Do you get it Chita?
Yes.
I know I am a hard woman. However I am a cook, a generous hostess, and a lover of good food and wine. Wining and dining is my supreme pleasure, and I couldn't handle being back in Tassie waiting and waiting for my Fijian boy to arrive. For me, its disrespectful to the chef or person cooking for us, to be late....
Its my one strong code of conduct.....
Why Oh whY did I pick a Fijian to fall in love with.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Fijian funerals, food and the sting in my tail!
I arrived in Fiji to sunshine and a week booked at the Smugglers Cove resort, supposedly new, but has been open since 2004. I was really tired our first night and nearly fell asleep during dinner. I woke up the next day and felt dreadful- a Fijian flu coming on. I passed out for a day or two, while my disappearing boyfriend went back to the vilage to submit his view on how the village soli should be spent. I recovered enough for another dinner and then found myself wiped out for a week, so much for cuddles, closeness and hot sex!
We kept waiting to hear the date of Simon's funeral and I told Chita we had to be there. So last Thursday we caught a van back to Votua, and I booked us a room at Vilisite's restaurant in room 3. The last time we saw Simon he had stayed there and I remember him sitting outside the room, sitting on the day bed with a guitar in hand and crooning. I then looked in my wardrobe to find something black to wear. Only a black zip top and a purple sulu I had bought spontaneously.
I had rung Vilisite's and was told there was a room,but of course it was double booked.
Grey clouds, and rain were not what I expected so Chita ran off to ask Dege if we could stay at his house on the hill in Korolevu for a night. Yes, no problem. I threw my paltry effort at funeral garb together, while Simon's kids who were also staying there scrubbed up into black gear for the girls and black sulus and crisp white shirts for his strapping sons. Dege dropped us off at Vilisites while he and Chita disappeared to prepare the funeral.
I had asked Chita what a Fijian funeral was all about, and as usual the master of the understatement had responded with 'well there will be a ceremony'.
When?
Between 3- 4 pm.
Okay. I joined Simon's first wife Donna and her partner, Sam, and two of the girlfriends to wait for the hearse to arrive from Suva. Simon had died on Friday and Fijians are usually buried quickly as the body tends to swell. Lora had found out she could get him embalmed for $150 so he would last three days and maybe up to three weeks.Simon's last wish was to be buried beside his father in his village of Namose in the interior. Usually family decides so Lora had a battle on her hands to convince them all. Luke the eldest son presented a savusavu to the elders, and then passed over the discussion to Lora. Usually the wife sits at home and waits for family and friends to come and share their condolences, but not kavalagi Lora. She was rushing off the day of the funeral to get a huge kava bowl to use for visitors. She picked the coffin and the hearse and got him embalmed. Unheard of.
We received a phone call saying the hearse had arrived. We stepped through the puddles and continuing rain to enter Watson and Asela's house. I found a wall to lean against as I cannot sit crosslegged for long, and then waited for the ceremony to begin. What I was not prepared for is how the family respond to the death. His sisters who range from 50 - 75 come forward on hands and knees to the coffin and start crying, screaming, wailing and falling onto the coffin. They all take turns to 'let it all out' as Chita describes it.
There were a group of Australian men who were seated on a bench at the back and I could see their surprise. We all had tears in our eyes. However, what I was not prepared for was that there was a glass window in the top of the coffin so everyone can take one last look. I couldn't. I froze. I didn't want to see a stiff.
An hour and a half later the ceremony finally begins and I have already changed sitting position a dozen times- this was going to be an ordeal. The ceremony was quite simple - testimonials from Luke, Simon's eldest son who kept it simple and told us all to remember two things about his dad; a clan member, an old man who cried and gave a heart felt speech in Fijian. Lora gave a great eulogy and when Simon's three sons and daughters moved towards the coffin; that's when I lost it. I was moved.
The local church choir held us all together by singing eloquent and uplifting hymns in Fijian.
My only sore point of the day, was the preacher. Simon did not go to church so despite being a good man, Lora's eulogy was wiped out by the fact that we are all sinners and will go to hell. Even if we are good and lead a good life, God is the way. I was quietly simmering...
I had to stand up for the final hymn and wondered if I could bend my creaky bones. I then discovered I had to sit down again and listen to another hymn before I could stand up, and go outside.
Chita was manning the lovo outside. He didn't want to come in. He was too sad. He and I both agreed we didn't want to look in the coffin.
I went back inside to discover that the coffin had been moved back, a band was set up in a seated position and 'Candle in the wind' was playing. At the back of the room, were the ladies with a table set up and bain maries full of curry, tomato chicken, and beef chopsuey. Special guests were offered prawns and lobster. We sat all together and shared our last meal with Simon. I lasted until about 9.30 and then my back was killing me.
I said goodbye to Chita as he was going to join the funeral party the next morning at around 4 am and transport Simon to the far side - Namose. I was exhausted, coughing my lungs up and needing to be horizontal. I have been to Melita, the closest village to Namose and that is just achievable. A hike through the mountains, along a ridge, knee deep in mud for one and a half hours, was not on my agenda. Chita did it for us both.
The coffin was put in a truck and taken to Navua, then onto a long boat up the Navua river for a couple of hours. The coffin and guests all rested at Melita before the climb. Chita told me what an amazing sight it was to watch groups of strong Fijian men running with the coffin up the mountain. The slow walkers left before them and turned around to see rotating groups of men, taking the coffin, strapped to a bamboo stretcher up a mountain in thick, sucking mud. Once in Namose, there was another ceremony and Simon was buried. Chita looked in the glass, and noticed Simon's head was flung back, after his jog up the mountain... he knew how hard it is to get to Namose, but he wanted everyone to do it, and remember him. They will never forget that journey.
Two Fijian kids had got lost on the way up. There is no road, only a sort of track, and they had ended up going around in circles. One of the girls had broken a branch and in two hours they kept coming back to the branch. Chita and Dege, went looking for them and found an arrow in a mud bank along the river, followed that for a couple of hours and found them and brought them back to Melita.
Chita said that when he got back to Navua, every muscle in his body was trembling. Lora had collapsed on the mountain after a week of funeral preparations, grief and no sleep. A group of four Fijians carried her down.
Wish I could have seen it all- what an awesome adventure (Simon's words).
I contributed my part to the funeral last night by cooking dinner for Lora and her daughter Rebecca in Suva. We heard some hilarious stories from Lora and listened to her grieve.
This morning my love disappears yet again and I am left to check my bank account to see if the visa payment has come out of my credit card account- no. I decide to ring John the agent and yet again find myself in a conversation with a short man who gives no reasonable explanation as to why the visa has not been lodged. I have sent emails stating what documents I am collecting to add to the visa lodgement, and no reply. He appeared not to have read any of my emails, so either his wife is the only one who does, or he is incompetent. However, he brow beat me yet again saying, I have been doing this job for a long time. A few days won't matter. I am so frustrated. No lodgement, no payment, no reference code so I can submit the remaining documents.
What does this man do for his money?
I did not even walk away from the phone with a day, and time of lodgement ......
God give me strength!
We kept waiting to hear the date of Simon's funeral and I told Chita we had to be there. So last Thursday we caught a van back to Votua, and I booked us a room at Vilisite's restaurant in room 3. The last time we saw Simon he had stayed there and I remember him sitting outside the room, sitting on the day bed with a guitar in hand and crooning. I then looked in my wardrobe to find something black to wear. Only a black zip top and a purple sulu I had bought spontaneously.
I had rung Vilisite's and was told there was a room,but of course it was double booked.
Grey clouds, and rain were not what I expected so Chita ran off to ask Dege if we could stay at his house on the hill in Korolevu for a night. Yes, no problem. I threw my paltry effort at funeral garb together, while Simon's kids who were also staying there scrubbed up into black gear for the girls and black sulus and crisp white shirts for his strapping sons. Dege dropped us off at Vilisites while he and Chita disappeared to prepare the funeral.
I had asked Chita what a Fijian funeral was all about, and as usual the master of the understatement had responded with 'well there will be a ceremony'.
When?
Between 3- 4 pm.
Okay. I joined Simon's first wife Donna and her partner, Sam, and two of the girlfriends to wait for the hearse to arrive from Suva. Simon had died on Friday and Fijians are usually buried quickly as the body tends to swell. Lora had found out she could get him embalmed for $150 so he would last three days and maybe up to three weeks.Simon's last wish was to be buried beside his father in his village of Namose in the interior. Usually family decides so Lora had a battle on her hands to convince them all. Luke the eldest son presented a savusavu to the elders, and then passed over the discussion to Lora. Usually the wife sits at home and waits for family and friends to come and share their condolences, but not kavalagi Lora. She was rushing off the day of the funeral to get a huge kava bowl to use for visitors. She picked the coffin and the hearse and got him embalmed. Unheard of.
We received a phone call saying the hearse had arrived. We stepped through the puddles and continuing rain to enter Watson and Asela's house. I found a wall to lean against as I cannot sit crosslegged for long, and then waited for the ceremony to begin. What I was not prepared for is how the family respond to the death. His sisters who range from 50 - 75 come forward on hands and knees to the coffin and start crying, screaming, wailing and falling onto the coffin. They all take turns to 'let it all out' as Chita describes it.
There were a group of Australian men who were seated on a bench at the back and I could see their surprise. We all had tears in our eyes. However, what I was not prepared for was that there was a glass window in the top of the coffin so everyone can take one last look. I couldn't. I froze. I didn't want to see a stiff.
An hour and a half later the ceremony finally begins and I have already changed sitting position a dozen times- this was going to be an ordeal. The ceremony was quite simple - testimonials from Luke, Simon's eldest son who kept it simple and told us all to remember two things about his dad; a clan member, an old man who cried and gave a heart felt speech in Fijian. Lora gave a great eulogy and when Simon's three sons and daughters moved towards the coffin; that's when I lost it. I was moved.
The local church choir held us all together by singing eloquent and uplifting hymns in Fijian.
My only sore point of the day, was the preacher. Simon did not go to church so despite being a good man, Lora's eulogy was wiped out by the fact that we are all sinners and will go to hell. Even if we are good and lead a good life, God is the way. I was quietly simmering...
I had to stand up for the final hymn and wondered if I could bend my creaky bones. I then discovered I had to sit down again and listen to another hymn before I could stand up, and go outside.
Chita was manning the lovo outside. He didn't want to come in. He was too sad. He and I both agreed we didn't want to look in the coffin.
I went back inside to discover that the coffin had been moved back, a band was set up in a seated position and 'Candle in the wind' was playing. At the back of the room, were the ladies with a table set up and bain maries full of curry, tomato chicken, and beef chopsuey. Special guests were offered prawns and lobster. We sat all together and shared our last meal with Simon. I lasted until about 9.30 and then my back was killing me.
I said goodbye to Chita as he was going to join the funeral party the next morning at around 4 am and transport Simon to the far side - Namose. I was exhausted, coughing my lungs up and needing to be horizontal. I have been to Melita, the closest village to Namose and that is just achievable. A hike through the mountains, along a ridge, knee deep in mud for one and a half hours, was not on my agenda. Chita did it for us both.
The coffin was put in a truck and taken to Navua, then onto a long boat up the Navua river for a couple of hours. The coffin and guests all rested at Melita before the climb. Chita told me what an amazing sight it was to watch groups of strong Fijian men running with the coffin up the mountain. The slow walkers left before them and turned around to see rotating groups of men, taking the coffin, strapped to a bamboo stretcher up a mountain in thick, sucking mud. Once in Namose, there was another ceremony and Simon was buried. Chita looked in the glass, and noticed Simon's head was flung back, after his jog up the mountain... he knew how hard it is to get to Namose, but he wanted everyone to do it, and remember him. They will never forget that journey.
Two Fijian kids had got lost on the way up. There is no road, only a sort of track, and they had ended up going around in circles. One of the girls had broken a branch and in two hours they kept coming back to the branch. Chita and Dege, went looking for them and found an arrow in a mud bank along the river, followed that for a couple of hours and found them and brought them back to Melita.
Chita said that when he got back to Navua, every muscle in his body was trembling. Lora had collapsed on the mountain after a week of funeral preparations, grief and no sleep. A group of four Fijians carried her down.
Wish I could have seen it all- what an awesome adventure (Simon's words).
I contributed my part to the funeral last night by cooking dinner for Lora and her daughter Rebecca in Suva. We heard some hilarious stories from Lora and listened to her grieve.
This morning my love disappears yet again and I am left to check my bank account to see if the visa payment has come out of my credit card account- no. I decide to ring John the agent and yet again find myself in a conversation with a short man who gives no reasonable explanation as to why the visa has not been lodged. I have sent emails stating what documents I am collecting to add to the visa lodgement, and no reply. He appeared not to have read any of my emails, so either his wife is the only one who does, or he is incompetent. However, he brow beat me yet again saying, I have been doing this job for a long time. A few days won't matter. I am so frustrated. No lodgement, no payment, no reference code so I can submit the remaining documents.
What does this man do for his money?
I did not even walk away from the phone with a day, and time of lodgement ......
God give me strength!
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Births, deaths and accidents!
I have waited four months to come to Fiji, bringing the last of the paperwork so we can submit a prospective spouse visa. I had engaged an immigration agent in Melbourne, who somehow was constantly offended by me asking questions. I was having great difficulty discussing anything with him so on my one and only visit to see him in Melbourne I took support. He kept trying to interrupt me, wouldn't listen and I have eventually figured out, that I was supposed to let him handle it all, with no discussion and no questions asked. Saving the $2,500 for the agent has been a challenge and then not being able to talk has been extremely frustrating. I had put together too much information; in fact enough information for a spouse visa. I had spent three months collecting information and cajoling my reluctant family to sign letters and to attach certified pages of their passports.
My opening question to my agent was:
If the Australian High commission does close, and the Australian employees return to Australia, what will happen to our application?
I dont' know.
Not a very encouraging response. I have been pissed off because I know he hasn't read our paperwork, and yet I had paid the initial installment of $1250 and he was asking for complete payment before the application was lodged...... I am in the wrong job. The fact that every time I called he fobbed me off, couldn't answer me straight, was not ready with my application when I went to Melbourne, just showed that he hadn't done his job..... I was furious but contained.
He is supposedly sending it this week. I know who has done all the work; his long suffering wife. I sent an email of enquiry today to nudge him along and also to see if anything has happened. I have passport photos and a couple of letters to add to the application, which I need to submit next week while Chita and I are in Suva.
Anyhow, I have been in Nadi since Saturday staying at the Smugglers Cove resort; apparently a new resort according to Wotif.com but opened in 2003 apparently. The room is great but the tv doesn't work. How strange! I asked if it would be fixed on Sunday. No the security guard isn't here yet. He arrives and tells Chita that there is something wrong with the dish. Monday, I ask again - Oh yes the electrician will be here at 5 pm if it doesn't improve give us a call. Another night with black and white flickering images.
Last night Chita and I lay in bed listening to the radio and singing to each other a range of songs from Kenny Rogers, to Crowded House to sappy love songs. Chita knows all the words.
At the airport Chita asked me:
Have you talked to Lora yet?
No why?
Simon is dead.
Just like that, one of the most handsome, gentle, loving, caring and YOUNG Australian Fijian men that I know is gone. I was in shock.
How?
Heart failure I think.
I spent the weekend thinking about this man who had been so encouraging to Chita and me during our early courtship - Amanda, you just need to keep talking, and then you both will work it out- to telling Chita, when we opened the cafe - I am so proud of you Chita. Keep going!
I keep thinking about the first time I met him. He was walking along the beach with a fish, and a big smile.
Hey you must be Simon!
Yes and you are Amanda Chita's girlfriend.
Yes the bush telegraph is fast here. You always meet someone and figure out how they are related to you.
Chita and I have stayed a few times at Vilisite's, Simon's older sister's bungalows over the years. Simon would always be there, sitting outside with his guitar, and a big slow smile.
I remember being invited to a reunion he organised between two sides of his family. It was a great day. I hopped on a bus to Natandola beach and we stepped off into the village, and were swept into houses for morning tea, a church service, a walk and paddle along the beach before a huge lovo lunch. Then singing, dancing and lots of powder if I remember rightly. I was left clean as I took heaps of pictures.
I remember accompanying Simon and his family to the Sigatoka hospital to donate a wheelchair.
I remember the last time I saw Simon, I was invited to sing with Victor and Simon at Vilisite's restaurant. We started at 1.30 and sang the day away. I loved it. I have a tendency to improvise a little and was driving Simon nuts with my deviations. Victor, kept saying - don't worry about her, keep on playing...
I will miss him. He was too young. Not even 50. He had so much to give. He had just spent the last couple of years, setting up a portable saw mill business which would benefit the villages and had only received his first pay check a couple of weeks a go.
I can't believe he is gone. Chita and I are going back to the village tomorrow. There will be a ceremony at Naibale, and his body will be laid out for one night, then Friday, they will take his body by boat up river to his village in the interior. It was raining a lot yesterday so we are hoping it will stop so that they can get him to his last resting place. His partner Lora is here, in Suva today, talking business, all his kids, and even his ex-wife is here to honour him.
Death brings all together to remember. I have to be there tomorrow, and remember a good friend.
Over this weekend, heaps of accidents have occurred. Tamo and John (who was last looking clean and a member of AA) got drunk and swung at each other. Phylis' canoe now has a big hole in it.
A group of Votuan boys hired a car and went for a joy ride. They got drunk, rolled it, and it lit up like a torch. One of the boys is now in hospital in Suva with both his legs gone. Such a waste. Such carelessness....
Yesterday Chita heard on the news that a van had crashed trying to avoid a horse near Maui Bay. On that bus was an Indian guy going to Suva, to submit a visa to visit a sick aunt in hospital, who died. What wasn't mentioned was that one of Chita's cousins Marco, was on the bus, and is lying in Lautoka hospital with both hands and both legs amputated below the knee.
The front page of the Fiji Times today is all about the needless waste of life in Fiji with deaths, paraplegia, loss of limbs and fractures. A shocking statistic delivered matter of factly in the paper was the high number of children under six years of age who are killed on the road...
I have been talking to Chita about all our friends and had to ask what had happened to Kalara. the party girl. Its finally happened. She is pregnant to a married man and is in the village. So much for travelling to Australia and getting a good job.
I am here in Fiji after a long absence of four months. In this beautiful paradise, senseless things are happening. Its a time to reflect. I will try and live each day to the full. I will try to accept uncertainty as a part of my life, I will believe that our visa will happen, Chita and I are going to get a chance to have a life together which will span Fiji and Australia, and if I have my way, a trip back to Sicily next year.
I will try to quel my constant doubts; drown out the critic in my head, with singing and enjoy the next two weeks with the man who makes me happy.
My opening question to my agent was:
If the Australian High commission does close, and the Australian employees return to Australia, what will happen to our application?
I dont' know.
Not a very encouraging response. I have been pissed off because I know he hasn't read our paperwork, and yet I had paid the initial installment of $1250 and he was asking for complete payment before the application was lodged...... I am in the wrong job. The fact that every time I called he fobbed me off, couldn't answer me straight, was not ready with my application when I went to Melbourne, just showed that he hadn't done his job..... I was furious but contained.
He is supposedly sending it this week. I know who has done all the work; his long suffering wife. I sent an email of enquiry today to nudge him along and also to see if anything has happened. I have passport photos and a couple of letters to add to the application, which I need to submit next week while Chita and I are in Suva.
Anyhow, I have been in Nadi since Saturday staying at the Smugglers Cove resort; apparently a new resort according to Wotif.com but opened in 2003 apparently. The room is great but the tv doesn't work. How strange! I asked if it would be fixed on Sunday. No the security guard isn't here yet. He arrives and tells Chita that there is something wrong with the dish. Monday, I ask again - Oh yes the electrician will be here at 5 pm if it doesn't improve give us a call. Another night with black and white flickering images.
Last night Chita and I lay in bed listening to the radio and singing to each other a range of songs from Kenny Rogers, to Crowded House to sappy love songs. Chita knows all the words.
At the airport Chita asked me:
Have you talked to Lora yet?
No why?
Simon is dead.
Just like that, one of the most handsome, gentle, loving, caring and YOUNG Australian Fijian men that I know is gone. I was in shock.
How?
Heart failure I think.
I spent the weekend thinking about this man who had been so encouraging to Chita and me during our early courtship - Amanda, you just need to keep talking, and then you both will work it out- to telling Chita, when we opened the cafe - I am so proud of you Chita. Keep going!
I keep thinking about the first time I met him. He was walking along the beach with a fish, and a big smile.
Hey you must be Simon!
Yes and you are Amanda Chita's girlfriend.
Yes the bush telegraph is fast here. You always meet someone and figure out how they are related to you.
Chita and I have stayed a few times at Vilisite's, Simon's older sister's bungalows over the years. Simon would always be there, sitting outside with his guitar, and a big slow smile.
I remember being invited to a reunion he organised between two sides of his family. It was a great day. I hopped on a bus to Natandola beach and we stepped off into the village, and were swept into houses for morning tea, a church service, a walk and paddle along the beach before a huge lovo lunch. Then singing, dancing and lots of powder if I remember rightly. I was left clean as I took heaps of pictures.
I remember accompanying Simon and his family to the Sigatoka hospital to donate a wheelchair.
I remember the last time I saw Simon, I was invited to sing with Victor and Simon at Vilisite's restaurant. We started at 1.30 and sang the day away. I loved it. I have a tendency to improvise a little and was driving Simon nuts with my deviations. Victor, kept saying - don't worry about her, keep on playing...
I will miss him. He was too young. Not even 50. He had so much to give. He had just spent the last couple of years, setting up a portable saw mill business which would benefit the villages and had only received his first pay check a couple of weeks a go.
I can't believe he is gone. Chita and I are going back to the village tomorrow. There will be a ceremony at Naibale, and his body will be laid out for one night, then Friday, they will take his body by boat up river to his village in the interior. It was raining a lot yesterday so we are hoping it will stop so that they can get him to his last resting place. His partner Lora is here, in Suva today, talking business, all his kids, and even his ex-wife is here to honour him.
Death brings all together to remember. I have to be there tomorrow, and remember a good friend.
Over this weekend, heaps of accidents have occurred. Tamo and John (who was last looking clean and a member of AA) got drunk and swung at each other. Phylis' canoe now has a big hole in it.
A group of Votuan boys hired a car and went for a joy ride. They got drunk, rolled it, and it lit up like a torch. One of the boys is now in hospital in Suva with both his legs gone. Such a waste. Such carelessness....
Yesterday Chita heard on the news that a van had crashed trying to avoid a horse near Maui Bay. On that bus was an Indian guy going to Suva, to submit a visa to visit a sick aunt in hospital, who died. What wasn't mentioned was that one of Chita's cousins Marco, was on the bus, and is lying in Lautoka hospital with both hands and both legs amputated below the knee.
The front page of the Fiji Times today is all about the needless waste of life in Fiji with deaths, paraplegia, loss of limbs and fractures. A shocking statistic delivered matter of factly in the paper was the high number of children under six years of age who are killed on the road...
I have been talking to Chita about all our friends and had to ask what had happened to Kalara. the party girl. Its finally happened. She is pregnant to a married man and is in the village. So much for travelling to Australia and getting a good job.
I am here in Fiji after a long absence of four months. In this beautiful paradise, senseless things are happening. Its a time to reflect. I will try and live each day to the full. I will try to accept uncertainty as a part of my life, I will believe that our visa will happen, Chita and I are going to get a chance to have a life together which will span Fiji and Australia, and if I have my way, a trip back to Sicily next year.
I will try to quel my constant doubts; drown out the critic in my head, with singing and enjoy the next two weeks with the man who makes me happy.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Drinking to excess!
My family motto is 'too much is not enough for us'. We indulge in good food, good wine, and good company at any opportunity. Fijians take this motto and boy can they stretch it. My first trip to Fiji I bought a bottle of gin duty free and was so exhausted from the overnight flight that I flaked out, while Chita and a friend of his drank the whole bottle on the balcony. He could not figure out why I was upset. It was a gift- no? Yes but I didn't expect you to drink the whole thing in one night.
I took a couple of bottles of red wine on one of my many return voyages and showed Chita how to drink a glass of wine with dinner. See the wanna be Italian just keeps manifesting. He handled it very well.
While we were building the bure, there were plenty of occasions for booze ups. The first being 'putting on the roof'. Chita and a posse of mates, came to our bure in the bush at around 7 pm. I had slaved over the hot open barbecue to cook a meal for approimately 10 quiet Fijian males. Chita had been working hard, hadn't eaten, was absolutely trashed and flaked it while his merry mates kept drinking kava, metho and juice, and bourbon. They stayed and stayed and stayed. Chita staggered outside and passed out. I had to put the hose on him. He then passed out in our bed in the bure surrounded by boozed Fijians. They had all parked their machetes in the thatched wall as they entered and around 3 am I turned the radio off. Clapped my hands together like the primary school teacher I have been, and they all got up, and wandered off. His cousin, asked me for money but I told him to buggar off, in the nicest possible way of course.
I woke up the next day, with the bure looking like a tip and smelling foul and said I was going to Suva, he could come with me, but the bure had better be cleaned up by his friends by the time I got back. Strangely enough it was.
Another horrible day was when I came back from the beach to find a group of fijian males sitting on the mats outside, cracking a slab. I offered to take the children to the beach again to get away from it all.A huge monstrous Fijian guy called Wally came with us, made me stop at the shop to buy drinks for the kids, and when I turned around he had another slab. I didn't know what to do, he is enormous, and drunk. I paid for it in fear. The kids and I stayed at the beach for ages, and came back to a horrible scene. Wally swinging a machete and wanting his wife, who had hidden. I froze. Chita jumped up with another Tamo and got slugged by Wally. I gathered the kids and wives and we went and hid in Chita's bure. I was appalled.
The next day I said to Chita. I am not a open wallet for your friends. I was too scared to say no. Where were you? With a drunken smile, playing guitar and on your own little planet... I was so pissed off.
Since then I have been Madam Tough. I say no to alcohol and no to lollies and chocolates for the kids. Some of the tooth decay emerging in kids who if they ate fruit and local veg and fish would be sparkling.
Last year I stayed at a friend's house up on the hill in Votua. She is a cousin of Chita's who was married to an old man at 17 who died last year. She is a party girl and trashes herself, vomits, keeps drinking and wakes up ready for more. She also does not care when she is drunk, whose boyfriend she cracks onto which has upset the local village enormously. A rumour spread she had an STD and all the village boys rushed to the clinic at Korolevu for a check up.
She steals alcohol. The first time was duty free gin and vodka I had put in Victor's fridge. He lives further up the hill. He was peeved off when he found she had broken into his house on a binge session and drunk it all. Victor and I have 1-2 gin and tonics a night, or a daiquiri every now and again, and 2 litres lasts until my next visit.
She blew her bridges with me, when she stole a bottle of red wine I had bought in Suva from one of the department stores, beautifully wrapped and ready to give to my love. It was nowhere to be found.
I have learnt to lock up the booze. I dispense it in small amounts or give it to Victor for save keeping. Chita is semi-responsible, but if they have had a kava session and he wants a better taste in his mouth he will come begging for alcohol.
I had the worst experience out,at one of Kalara's parties. Chita and I usually go to bed around 11 and sleep through the non stop disco. I woke up to a rewind of one song at least forty times. I walked out, and spotted Kalara with vomit down her t-shirt, and nothing except undies,sculling vodka she had stolen from Victor. I walked into the living room to find a big Fijian girl passed out, vomiting onto the carpet, and another young guy with his cracked open, where he had hit it on the wall, and fallen to the floor - an impressive pool of blood around his head. I screamed for Chita who went up the hill to get Joe. The two of them dragged out the whole motley crew and turned the hose on them all. The big girl went into the bathroom, and locked herself in. Chita did the bravest thing out, and went in to retrieve her. She had vomited and crapped everywhere- the smell was overpowering. In fact Chita would us Victor's bathroom up the hill for the remainder of our stay, rather than go back in there and revisit.
I have to say Fijians and alcohol do not mix. Kava is the next narcotic to deal with. A kava session, while riveting for a Fijian, is a most uneventful event for a European woman who doesn't drink the stuff. You could join them and end up in the same comatose state, but I have a 2-3 kava bowl limit. I only drink it at proper times not at a grog session. I don't need kava to relax. Five hours watching big Fijian men drinking kava, their eyes going bloodshot, their heads disappearing into their laps is not my idea of fun. They don't eat until after the kava session, so food is usually cold. I now don't bother cooking.
The next day, a kava headache manifests and Fijian men get very grumpy. It the time when wives get bashed and children run away. I know I am sounding cynical, but I am also a realist. I have argued so many times with Chita that kava is not essential to his life; but to a Fijian it is - its a necessary pastime.
I think having a health scare a few years ago has stopped me drinking. I can't drink much. I just don't get into it. Eating is more my thing, as my waist line can attest.
So don't be afraid to say 'No' Fijian men can handle it.
I took a couple of bottles of red wine on one of my many return voyages and showed Chita how to drink a glass of wine with dinner. See the wanna be Italian just keeps manifesting. He handled it very well.
While we were building the bure, there were plenty of occasions for booze ups. The first being 'putting on the roof'. Chita and a posse of mates, came to our bure in the bush at around 7 pm. I had slaved over the hot open barbecue to cook a meal for approimately 10 quiet Fijian males. Chita had been working hard, hadn't eaten, was absolutely trashed and flaked it while his merry mates kept drinking kava, metho and juice, and bourbon. They stayed and stayed and stayed. Chita staggered outside and passed out. I had to put the hose on him. He then passed out in our bed in the bure surrounded by boozed Fijians. They had all parked their machetes in the thatched wall as they entered and around 3 am I turned the radio off. Clapped my hands together like the primary school teacher I have been, and they all got up, and wandered off. His cousin, asked me for money but I told him to buggar off, in the nicest possible way of course.
I woke up the next day, with the bure looking like a tip and smelling foul and said I was going to Suva, he could come with me, but the bure had better be cleaned up by his friends by the time I got back. Strangely enough it was.
Another horrible day was when I came back from the beach to find a group of fijian males sitting on the mats outside, cracking a slab. I offered to take the children to the beach again to get away from it all.A huge monstrous Fijian guy called Wally came with us, made me stop at the shop to buy drinks for the kids, and when I turned around he had another slab. I didn't know what to do, he is enormous, and drunk. I paid for it in fear. The kids and I stayed at the beach for ages, and came back to a horrible scene. Wally swinging a machete and wanting his wife, who had hidden. I froze. Chita jumped up with another Tamo and got slugged by Wally. I gathered the kids and wives and we went and hid in Chita's bure. I was appalled.
The next day I said to Chita. I am not a open wallet for your friends. I was too scared to say no. Where were you? With a drunken smile, playing guitar and on your own little planet... I was so pissed off.
Since then I have been Madam Tough. I say no to alcohol and no to lollies and chocolates for the kids. Some of the tooth decay emerging in kids who if they ate fruit and local veg and fish would be sparkling.
Last year I stayed at a friend's house up on the hill in Votua. She is a cousin of Chita's who was married to an old man at 17 who died last year. She is a party girl and trashes herself, vomits, keeps drinking and wakes up ready for more. She also does not care when she is drunk, whose boyfriend she cracks onto which has upset the local village enormously. A rumour spread she had an STD and all the village boys rushed to the clinic at Korolevu for a check up.
She steals alcohol. The first time was duty free gin and vodka I had put in Victor's fridge. He lives further up the hill. He was peeved off when he found she had broken into his house on a binge session and drunk it all. Victor and I have 1-2 gin and tonics a night, or a daiquiri every now and again, and 2 litres lasts until my next visit.
She blew her bridges with me, when she stole a bottle of red wine I had bought in Suva from one of the department stores, beautifully wrapped and ready to give to my love. It was nowhere to be found.
I have learnt to lock up the booze. I dispense it in small amounts or give it to Victor for save keeping. Chita is semi-responsible, but if they have had a kava session and he wants a better taste in his mouth he will come begging for alcohol.
I had the worst experience out,at one of Kalara's parties. Chita and I usually go to bed around 11 and sleep through the non stop disco. I woke up to a rewind of one song at least forty times. I walked out, and spotted Kalara with vomit down her t-shirt, and nothing except undies,sculling vodka she had stolen from Victor. I walked into the living room to find a big Fijian girl passed out, vomiting onto the carpet, and another young guy with his cracked open, where he had hit it on the wall, and fallen to the floor - an impressive pool of blood around his head. I screamed for Chita who went up the hill to get Joe. The two of them dragged out the whole motley crew and turned the hose on them all. The big girl went into the bathroom, and locked herself in. Chita did the bravest thing out, and went in to retrieve her. She had vomited and crapped everywhere- the smell was overpowering. In fact Chita would us Victor's bathroom up the hill for the remainder of our stay, rather than go back in there and revisit.
I have to say Fijians and alcohol do not mix. Kava is the next narcotic to deal with. A kava session, while riveting for a Fijian, is a most uneventful event for a European woman who doesn't drink the stuff. You could join them and end up in the same comatose state, but I have a 2-3 kava bowl limit. I only drink it at proper times not at a grog session. I don't need kava to relax. Five hours watching big Fijian men drinking kava, their eyes going bloodshot, their heads disappearing into their laps is not my idea of fun. They don't eat until after the kava session, so food is usually cold. I now don't bother cooking.
The next day, a kava headache manifests and Fijian men get very grumpy. It the time when wives get bashed and children run away. I know I am sounding cynical, but I am also a realist. I have argued so many times with Chita that kava is not essential to his life; but to a Fijian it is - its a necessary pastime.
I think having a health scare a few years ago has stopped me drinking. I can't drink much. I just don't get into it. Eating is more my thing, as my waist line can attest.
So don't be afraid to say 'No' Fijian men can handle it.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Fijian Men
Have had lots of emails and phone calls about Fijian men and how they relate to European women ( us). Its been a voyage of discovery for me, and things I thought were shared amongst all cultures are not. I have had many misunderstandings.
Meet a Fijian man and he will be friendly, open, generous and ask you out. He will even give you either his post box number or a phone number depending on his employability status. My partner lives on the Coral Coast where there are a large number of resorts which employ Fijians for a pittance, lay them off whenever there is no work, give them no superannuation, sick leave, and usually work hours are unspecified ( ie slavery). The average salary at a resort is $80 per week and how much is it that you said you were paying for your resort? Ah yes, between $250 - 550 per night. MMM who is making money out of that? International investors of course.
Step outside a resort and visitors are shocked by the poverty. What is poverty? In Western eyes its financial success and all the consumables attached. To a Fijian, if there is food, a roof over your head, working with your mates, and family support - your life is good.
There is a growing number of young guys who work in the resorts who have copied the Fijian Indian males, and are looking for a European mate, to give them a good life. What that actually is for them, is unclear, but it must be better than being in Fiji.
Fijian men are unsophisticated, happy, friendly,with great abs but not much idea of love making. Had a chat to a Fijian girl, who says that even she finds Fijian men boring, as its all over so quickly and where was the foreplay. If you want a Fijian male, you are going to have to take him by the hand and show him the ropes. If he has had many European partners, someone else might have done the job for you.
In public, Fijian men are not intimate. There will be little or no hand holding, no kissing and hugging in public. Chita saw me off at the airport (a year after we started seeing each other mind you) and shook my hand saying 'Goodbye Miss Amanda Sutton!' I was flabbergasted. He now hugs me, and I usually kiss him, and he feigns indifference.
If I am in the village, I have to cover my arms, and legs, not walk through the main village green, enter the house by the back door, do not sit opposite an open doorway with my legs crossed ( hussy behaviour) and sit with the women when there is a family meeting. Do not sit beside the head of the family, always sit below.
When Chita is in the shop and noone is around I can be affectionate but when a group of local boys walk past coming back from the farm - its separate instantly. Its weird, but that's the way it is.
Phone ettiquette is another issue. A friend of mine wanted her Fijian boyfriend to do what a lover back at home would do - and ring daily and text as many times as they could. A Fijian with a phone,has either pinched it, been given it or worked hard for it. They cannot afford to buy lots of credit- maybe $15- 25 if they are lucky. If you ring and a woman answers the phone - yes it could be his wife, but it could also be his sister,mother or family member who has heard it ringing.
Fijian men are not good letter writers.... so give up there. You will have to ring them and maintain the relationship.
Because of the Fijian share and care mentality - they will ask you for monetary help. They could potentially ask you for anything. Chita's cousin asked me to buy him a boat....Fijians usually don't expect things, but if they ask they think that they may be lucky and you might give it to them. In Fijian culture certain family members can ask other family members for things, and they must be given. I am really good at saying no. If you want to pay an electricity bill or a water bill, or buy groceries - you can but don't think that you have to keep doing it; other family members will pitch in. When Chita's mum's electricity was cut off, and there was no one to pay the reconnection - I did it so that we could have light. However, the boys in the family take turns to pay for power.
Fijian men are not used to forward, vocal demanding European women (us) fijian girls say 'yes' to a man and do whatever they ask. Chita told me he found Fijian girls boring as there were no surprises. What about me I ask? I never know how you are going to react.
Fijian macho male behaviour comes through occasionally and they don't like it when we stand up to them but that's the way its got to be. Chita used to disappear on me, sometimes for hours, when we had a fight and then come back and check my face, to see if it was safe to be in the same room as me (wimp).
I have been supporting my partner for three and a half years. He has applied for three visas- a short term business visa, a rugby team visa and a short term visitor
s visa - all have been rejected. It seems that since the sixties Pacific islanders have a bad reputation for visa overstaying - coming from a culture where time has no meaning I can understand why but it seems that all young Fijian males between 20-45 have great difficulty getting to Australia.
I did not mean to meet someone from an island, which cannot come to Australia. Its been tough. I spent September last year, crying and dribbling to Chita that I didn't think I could mentally cope with the waiting. The effort to collect documentation, submitting the visa and then waiting - who knows how long - for him to get a prospective spouse visa. Only two chances in five years so I have paid a whole heap of money to an immigration agent who has waited patiently for me to do all the work... I picked the wrong job.
I love Chita - coming to Australia will be a huge challenge without the village, without his boys club, but with freedom to choose. Will he go overboard? Will he choose the middle way as buddha would say? I do not know.
Life as a couple in Fiji - is living separate lives - which I cannot do. Life as a couple in Australia could be a voyage of discovery.... lots of adventures, lots of good loving with no villager to listen, and lots of intimacy I hope.
Drinking is an issue I will bring up in my next blog.... there are no limits is all I will say for now...
Meet a Fijian man and he will be friendly, open, generous and ask you out. He will even give you either his post box number or a phone number depending on his employability status. My partner lives on the Coral Coast where there are a large number of resorts which employ Fijians for a pittance, lay them off whenever there is no work, give them no superannuation, sick leave, and usually work hours are unspecified ( ie slavery). The average salary at a resort is $80 per week and how much is it that you said you were paying for your resort? Ah yes, between $250 - 550 per night. MMM who is making money out of that? International investors of course.
Step outside a resort and visitors are shocked by the poverty. What is poverty? In Western eyes its financial success and all the consumables attached. To a Fijian, if there is food, a roof over your head, working with your mates, and family support - your life is good.
There is a growing number of young guys who work in the resorts who have copied the Fijian Indian males, and are looking for a European mate, to give them a good life. What that actually is for them, is unclear, but it must be better than being in Fiji.
Fijian men are unsophisticated, happy, friendly,with great abs but not much idea of love making. Had a chat to a Fijian girl, who says that even she finds Fijian men boring, as its all over so quickly and where was the foreplay. If you want a Fijian male, you are going to have to take him by the hand and show him the ropes. If he has had many European partners, someone else might have done the job for you.
In public, Fijian men are not intimate. There will be little or no hand holding, no kissing and hugging in public. Chita saw me off at the airport (a year after we started seeing each other mind you) and shook my hand saying 'Goodbye Miss Amanda Sutton!' I was flabbergasted. He now hugs me, and I usually kiss him, and he feigns indifference.
If I am in the village, I have to cover my arms, and legs, not walk through the main village green, enter the house by the back door, do not sit opposite an open doorway with my legs crossed ( hussy behaviour) and sit with the women when there is a family meeting. Do not sit beside the head of the family, always sit below.
When Chita is in the shop and noone is around I can be affectionate but when a group of local boys walk past coming back from the farm - its separate instantly. Its weird, but that's the way it is.
Phone ettiquette is another issue. A friend of mine wanted her Fijian boyfriend to do what a lover back at home would do - and ring daily and text as many times as they could. A Fijian with a phone,has either pinched it, been given it or worked hard for it. They cannot afford to buy lots of credit- maybe $15- 25 if they are lucky. If you ring and a woman answers the phone - yes it could be his wife, but it could also be his sister,mother or family member who has heard it ringing.
Fijian men are not good letter writers.... so give up there. You will have to ring them and maintain the relationship.
Because of the Fijian share and care mentality - they will ask you for monetary help. They could potentially ask you for anything. Chita's cousin asked me to buy him a boat....Fijians usually don't expect things, but if they ask they think that they may be lucky and you might give it to them. In Fijian culture certain family members can ask other family members for things, and they must be given. I am really good at saying no. If you want to pay an electricity bill or a water bill, or buy groceries - you can but don't think that you have to keep doing it; other family members will pitch in. When Chita's mum's electricity was cut off, and there was no one to pay the reconnection - I did it so that we could have light. However, the boys in the family take turns to pay for power.
Fijian men are not used to forward, vocal demanding European women (us) fijian girls say 'yes' to a man and do whatever they ask. Chita told me he found Fijian girls boring as there were no surprises. What about me I ask? I never know how you are going to react.
Fijian macho male behaviour comes through occasionally and they don't like it when we stand up to them but that's the way its got to be. Chita used to disappear on me, sometimes for hours, when we had a fight and then come back and check my face, to see if it was safe to be in the same room as me (wimp).
I have been supporting my partner for three and a half years. He has applied for three visas- a short term business visa, a rugby team visa and a short term visitor
s visa - all have been rejected. It seems that since the sixties Pacific islanders have a bad reputation for visa overstaying - coming from a culture where time has no meaning I can understand why but it seems that all young Fijian males between 20-45 have great difficulty getting to Australia.
I did not mean to meet someone from an island, which cannot come to Australia. Its been tough. I spent September last year, crying and dribbling to Chita that I didn't think I could mentally cope with the waiting. The effort to collect documentation, submitting the visa and then waiting - who knows how long - for him to get a prospective spouse visa. Only two chances in five years so I have paid a whole heap of money to an immigration agent who has waited patiently for me to do all the work... I picked the wrong job.
I love Chita - coming to Australia will be a huge challenge without the village, without his boys club, but with freedom to choose. Will he go overboard? Will he choose the middle way as buddha would say? I do not know.
Life as a couple in Fiji - is living separate lives - which I cannot do. Life as a couple in Australia could be a voyage of discovery.... lots of adventures, lots of good loving with no villager to listen, and lots of intimacy I hope.
Drinking is an issue I will bring up in my next blog.... there are no limits is all I will say for now...
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
I am here and he is there!
I was so demoralised after my encounter with a certain resort on the Coral Coast that shall remain nameless - but the level of exploitation and being classed as dispensible labour has left a bad taste in my mouth. Foreign business with cheap labour, and enormous profits going elsewhere.mmmmmmmm
I decided to go to Suva to the International School. I loved the school, its programs and surrounds but yet again - decent salaries are only paid to heads of department, the rest of the salary exist on local salaries no doubt supported by husbands working as diplomats or as consultants. I cannot live in Fiji without enough money to support the daily expenses of Chita and me, occasional hand outs to family and the village, pay for storage back in Oz and any expenses there. Its a joke1 am a talented, highly skilled person who can turn her hand to anything pretty much - nothing involving too much exertion as I am not a fitness freak but I am stuck in no man's land.
The love of my life,is working in a small business on his own, sleeping in a hammock every night on the deck so that he can protect our worldly goods from possible thieving. I could be there building up the business with him and seeing it grow, instead I am here sitting at my computer thinking about it.
I applied for a visitor's visa to get him to Australia thinking 'Okay, lets' see! I can get my family to invite him for Christmas and get my parents to write an invitation. We only get together on the rare occasion and as my brother was bringing his new partner from Korea (no problems with a visitor's visa there - money and economic possibilities count for everything) and her son for the first time. It was a chance for my darling boy to meet them all, see a bit of Tassie, work out whether he can stand the lower temperatures and start talking to a few potential businesses about a job. No bloody brick wall instead. Yet again I am dreaming about us being together instead of actually having him beside me in the flesh.
I had worked so hard on the visa. Providing documentation to prove our relationship, our business, and letters of support from family and friends.
I had pre-empted all the reasons for refusing his visa:
a) he is self employed and on a low income. My response- sponsor his airfares, accomdation, living expenses, medical insurance. Ignored.
b) An assessment of our relationship was not done - despite personal statements from both of us with photos, letters of support, telephone bills, passport entries, letters I have written to him and a whole lot of other palava. They didn't bloody well read any of it.
c) I am not a parent, spouse, or family member. What has that got to do with it. I rang the department and asked if as his fiance I could sponsor him out. No problem. So why that response.
d) Insufficient reason to return. I had organised a permaculture course for two weeks so that he could actually pick up a skill - we have a plantation project underway with seed funding from Rotary International back in Fiji, which he will need to manage- so they obviously didn't read that either.
Was the pile of visa applications too high; they were way behind. We applied on November 20th and on December 13th, the day before his scheduled air fare, they actually looked at his visa. How do I know? I rang the Australian High Commisssion and spoke to the receptionist who responded with: ' I can see it on the case manager's desk'
We didn't receive visa refusal until Friday December 14th the day of his intended departure. I was in a staff meeting at Claremont High, and walked out to talk to Chita. I dissolved into tears and cried for two hours. I could not go back into the meeting.
I had had a momentary panic that morning as I had discovered my mobile phone was not charged and I had had to borrow the principa's recharger. It took me until around 3 p.m. to stop the waterworks and walk into her office. With red rimmed eyes, and a shakey voice I handed over the recharger and then burst into tears again.
I went home. I have never felt so frustrated in my life. I have always been able to make things work for myself. Work out a strategy and head in the direction I want to go. Instead I feel powerless. I love him. We want to be together, so the only option is a prospective spouse visa (you can only have two cracks at that in five years so you need a migration agent which costs) or a spousal visa which also costs.
I rang Chita and discovered him calm as always. Don't think about it too much. What? Westerners are not wired that way.
I rang him the next day and he was sick with a summer flu - suppressed and repressed anger and frustration.
I have spent a xmas trying to be cheerful with family, a knotted left shoulder which has caused me grief, an enormous and overwhelming tiredness. What to do? Get married and wait how long for his visa to be approved.
I had completed a form as his authorised agent and received an email from the High Commission stating that due to the privacy act they could not respond via telephone or email. What the hell is the point of being an authorised agent, when I am in Australia and the only way I can communicate is by phone, email or fax. A fax is bloody unlikely as it costs more money and NO COMMUNICATION is the order of the day.
I am so pissed off. I am struggling to work out why they did not read our application.
Freedom and democracy are tenuous labels in the modern world. We believe we have the right to choose, make changes and do but red tape can keep you hanging for months. What do I do next? Do I go to Fiji for a week, have a registry office wedding and then apply for a spouse visa. To do that I am going to have to borrow money. Great.I am over any long way of getting there so forget the prospective spouse visa; its just going to cost to twice as much as you get that and then have to apply for a spouse visa. Do we apply to some country which will accept us as a couple and give us work, so that we can be together- even if its remote,we earn a pittance at least we will be together eh?
What about our plans for a beach shack, high on the hill, with a windy road through the tropical undergrowth, a deck looking out over the ocean, a four wheel drive parked nearby, a thriving bakery and juice bar. Two smiling faces(us) with plenty of customers who become friends and keep coming back. Being able to make valuable contributions to the village through specific programs for kids. I could use my current experience to train waiters, cooks and bakers. It is a vague and puffy cloud, just lurking on the horizon. It tempts me, drives me on, but I seem to have the longest and windiest road to get to it.
I have had my family - who are masters of negativity - saying well you knew getting him out here would be difficult. How did I know that? I had a text message from friends in Melbourne who have gone through the whole process the day after I found out, saying : we tried three times. I wish I had known that before I started and I wouldn't have built my hopes up. I also heard via Fiji gossip that the commission had decided to deny all visas until after January 2008. That's democracy at work. I also heard that there is such a high volume of applications that the commission can't cope. Obviously.
I am faced with more expense. I reapply for a visitor's visa with more documents, another return flight booked and wait a month for the same result. Then try again.
Or we get married and apply for the spousal visa. Worst case scenario 18 months, best case scenario 3- 6 months. I also need around $5,000 to make that happen.
I have to go back to Fiji to get married. I have decided he and I need a holiday. I have found cheap accomodation on Mana Island for our instant honeymoon. I am the financier so yet again my store of savings will dwindle and I will be back on the massive saving plan to get him out here. Merda as we say in Italian. Sono stufa...
I have work for this year full time on a year contract as a Pathway Planner - how ironic. Broadening student's horizons and guiding them towards work opportunities. And an interview for a job at a higher level in vocational education and training back in Lonny. I will be fostering positive relationships between schools and businesses,creating wonderful opportunities for students to become life long learners.
I also know that RESILIENCE is a part of current school's mantra. I am know learnign what that means. Sorry its been so long, but its taking so long. My life is surrounded, embedded and immersed in tons of paper.....
Any ideas, thoughts, or positive affirmations, gratefully accepted.
I decided to go to Suva to the International School. I loved the school, its programs and surrounds but yet again - decent salaries are only paid to heads of department, the rest of the salary exist on local salaries no doubt supported by husbands working as diplomats or as consultants. I cannot live in Fiji without enough money to support the daily expenses of Chita and me, occasional hand outs to family and the village, pay for storage back in Oz and any expenses there. Its a joke1 am a talented, highly skilled person who can turn her hand to anything pretty much - nothing involving too much exertion as I am not a fitness freak but I am stuck in no man's land.
The love of my life,is working in a small business on his own, sleeping in a hammock every night on the deck so that he can protect our worldly goods from possible thieving. I could be there building up the business with him and seeing it grow, instead I am here sitting at my computer thinking about it.
I applied for a visitor's visa to get him to Australia thinking 'Okay, lets' see! I can get my family to invite him for Christmas and get my parents to write an invitation. We only get together on the rare occasion and as my brother was bringing his new partner from Korea (no problems with a visitor's visa there - money and economic possibilities count for everything) and her son for the first time. It was a chance for my darling boy to meet them all, see a bit of Tassie, work out whether he can stand the lower temperatures and start talking to a few potential businesses about a job. No bloody brick wall instead. Yet again I am dreaming about us being together instead of actually having him beside me in the flesh.
I had worked so hard on the visa. Providing documentation to prove our relationship, our business, and letters of support from family and friends.
I had pre-empted all the reasons for refusing his visa:
a) he is self employed and on a low income. My response- sponsor his airfares, accomdation, living expenses, medical insurance. Ignored.
b) An assessment of our relationship was not done - despite personal statements from both of us with photos, letters of support, telephone bills, passport entries, letters I have written to him and a whole lot of other palava. They didn't bloody well read any of it.
c) I am not a parent, spouse, or family member. What has that got to do with it. I rang the department and asked if as his fiance I could sponsor him out. No problem. So why that response.
d) Insufficient reason to return. I had organised a permaculture course for two weeks so that he could actually pick up a skill - we have a plantation project underway with seed funding from Rotary International back in Fiji, which he will need to manage- so they obviously didn't read that either.
Was the pile of visa applications too high; they were way behind. We applied on November 20th and on December 13th, the day before his scheduled air fare, they actually looked at his visa. How do I know? I rang the Australian High Commisssion and spoke to the receptionist who responded with: ' I can see it on the case manager's desk'
We didn't receive visa refusal until Friday December 14th the day of his intended departure. I was in a staff meeting at Claremont High, and walked out to talk to Chita. I dissolved into tears and cried for two hours. I could not go back into the meeting.
I had had a momentary panic that morning as I had discovered my mobile phone was not charged and I had had to borrow the principa's recharger. It took me until around 3 p.m. to stop the waterworks and walk into her office. With red rimmed eyes, and a shakey voice I handed over the recharger and then burst into tears again.
I went home. I have never felt so frustrated in my life. I have always been able to make things work for myself. Work out a strategy and head in the direction I want to go. Instead I feel powerless. I love him. We want to be together, so the only option is a prospective spouse visa (you can only have two cracks at that in five years so you need a migration agent which costs) or a spousal visa which also costs.
I rang Chita and discovered him calm as always. Don't think about it too much. What? Westerners are not wired that way.
I rang him the next day and he was sick with a summer flu - suppressed and repressed anger and frustration.
I have spent a xmas trying to be cheerful with family, a knotted left shoulder which has caused me grief, an enormous and overwhelming tiredness. What to do? Get married and wait how long for his visa to be approved.
I had completed a form as his authorised agent and received an email from the High Commission stating that due to the privacy act they could not respond via telephone or email. What the hell is the point of being an authorised agent, when I am in Australia and the only way I can communicate is by phone, email or fax. A fax is bloody unlikely as it costs more money and NO COMMUNICATION is the order of the day.
I am so pissed off. I am struggling to work out why they did not read our application.
Freedom and democracy are tenuous labels in the modern world. We believe we have the right to choose, make changes and do but red tape can keep you hanging for months. What do I do next? Do I go to Fiji for a week, have a registry office wedding and then apply for a spouse visa. To do that I am going to have to borrow money. Great.I am over any long way of getting there so forget the prospective spouse visa; its just going to cost to twice as much as you get that and then have to apply for a spouse visa. Do we apply to some country which will accept us as a couple and give us work, so that we can be together- even if its remote,we earn a pittance at least we will be together eh?
What about our plans for a beach shack, high on the hill, with a windy road through the tropical undergrowth, a deck looking out over the ocean, a four wheel drive parked nearby, a thriving bakery and juice bar. Two smiling faces(us) with plenty of customers who become friends and keep coming back. Being able to make valuable contributions to the village through specific programs for kids. I could use my current experience to train waiters, cooks and bakers. It is a vague and puffy cloud, just lurking on the horizon. It tempts me, drives me on, but I seem to have the longest and windiest road to get to it.
I have had my family - who are masters of negativity - saying well you knew getting him out here would be difficult. How did I know that? I had a text message from friends in Melbourne who have gone through the whole process the day after I found out, saying : we tried three times. I wish I had known that before I started and I wouldn't have built my hopes up. I also heard via Fiji gossip that the commission had decided to deny all visas until after January 2008. That's democracy at work. I also heard that there is such a high volume of applications that the commission can't cope. Obviously.
I am faced with more expense. I reapply for a visitor's visa with more documents, another return flight booked and wait a month for the same result. Then try again.
Or we get married and apply for the spousal visa. Worst case scenario 18 months, best case scenario 3- 6 months. I also need around $5,000 to make that happen.
I have to go back to Fiji to get married. I have decided he and I need a holiday. I have found cheap accomodation on Mana Island for our instant honeymoon. I am the financier so yet again my store of savings will dwindle and I will be back on the massive saving plan to get him out here. Merda as we say in Italian. Sono stufa...
I have work for this year full time on a year contract as a Pathway Planner - how ironic. Broadening student's horizons and guiding them towards work opportunities. And an interview for a job at a higher level in vocational education and training back in Lonny. I will be fostering positive relationships between schools and businesses,creating wonderful opportunities for students to become life long learners.
I also know that RESILIENCE is a part of current school's mantra. I am know learnign what that means. Sorry its been so long, but its taking so long. My life is surrounded, embedded and immersed in tons of paper.....
Any ideas, thoughts, or positive affirmations, gratefully accepted.
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