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.