Amanda in Fiji

Moce- love and goodbyes

2010-03-14T13:47:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago at a rugby function a member of the Fijian community in Tasmania approached my husband to talk about this blog, stating that I had shamed him, his village and his clan.
A week ago we were both at a birthday party for a member of the Fijian community here in Tasmania and I realised at the end of the night I had been ostracised by the Fijians. No one had made eye contact and no one had greeted me. I got up at the end of the night to say goodbye to two wives and they flinched when I kissed them goodbye. Was I imagining it?
Friday night my husband was called to a kava session by the Fijian males in Tasmania who told him they found the blog offensive.
He told me the next day. I ranted and raved about freedom of speech. I was also dumbfounded. In Fiji I would be invited to attend a village meeting and have my say. In Australia someone would have rung me to say 'There's a problem; lets talk about it".
I rang one of the members of the community to ask him why he had approached my husband and not me. We decided.... was his reply.
Who are you to decide? was my prompt reply.
As a member of the Fijian community I have a right to be told. To me their actions are not the act of friendship. I have known these people for a number of years; they know me, and they have chosen to think ill of me. Surprising.
I have terminated my association with this bunch of mean, narrow and small minded peope, even if they are Fijian and their wives are Australian. We know who our real Fijian friends are.
However, all Fijians are interconnected so my husband has found my decision difficult.
He has also asked me to terminate this blog. I am doing it out of a profound respect for his culture, and the deepest love for the man who met me by accident five years ago. This was always intended to be a story of love and our journey to get him to Australia.
This world is not perfect. People are not perfect. This life is a struggle to overcome obstacles and find joy. I have found joy in my relationship with this wonderful man who acted honorably on Friday night, stood by his wife, and faced his community and said ' no' - a difficult action for a tribal community with huge pressure to conform.
I finish this blog, with the whole reason for writing it in the first place- how I fell in love with my husband. This is a short story I wrote for a competition called 'Coconut Crush'

Coconut Crush
Completely unaware of the slow, steady drip running down her left arm, Angelina grips the telephone tightly. A stream of dark, unctuous chocolate slips through her fingertips and glides across the back of her hand; swirling around her wrist and falling in droplets down her arm.
In her right hand is a sheaf of paper, full of words that bite, scratch and tear at her heart.
‘Why are they doing this to me?’
Her bewildered gaze falls on the washed Huon pine refectory table in front of her. Ten pages of vitriol now lie in an unwieldy pile. A fluorescent yellow and red express envelope still glares at her. Strewn across it are a scrunched up ruby, sky blue and white wrappers, a half eaten bar of almond chocolate and nearby a small Spanish green ceramic bowl with a scattering of remaining rainbow coloured sweets.
Directly in front of her, a long elegant spoon awaits. Beside it a gleaming crystal glass of ginger infused chocolate mousse with swirls of wafer thin chocolates on top continue to beckon.
The droning voice causes her to dip her finger into the glass and quickly suck in the sweetness, blocking out the unpleasant sound.
‘Write a letter! Okay I will write a letter. Ciao!’ She hangs up leaving a chocolaty smudge on the phone.
The phone rings again. Licking the drips on her finger, she picks up, only to find it’s her close friend Elise.
‘I’ve booked two tickets to Fiji!’
‘Mamma mia! You have done what?’ Angelina exclaims.
‘You are not going to sit there stewing about a court case that may never happen. You are coming with me!
‘But I always spend time here with mamma!’
‘You are coming!’
‘Va bene! Only if you come over and help me eat this delizioso chocolate mousse I have been testing. It has a taste of the tropics – glace ginger folded through rich, creamy chocolate, mousse, a puddle of refreshing mango and passionfruit as a base. We can discuss the trip while we eat.’
She hangs up again.
Angelina glances down at her turquoise blue peasant skirt, realizing a rivulet of chocolate has now formed tributaries in the folds.
Sweeping the evidence of her unhappiness into a bin, she quickly resets the table with two champagne flutes, checks that a bottle of champagne is suitably chilled and places two crimson place mats on the table. Searching through her kitchen drawers, she finds two white linen napkins. Opening the French doors to the garden Angelina takes a pair of shears to cut pink magnolia flowers to scatter across the table. Satisfied with the impromptu arrangement she jumps into the shower, washing off suffocating anxiety and fear, and emerging ….
Where have I left my passport from my last trip overseas?
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Enveloped in a blanket of warm air, her tiny white shell necklace nestled around her neck, Angelina is directed to the coach taking her to the Coral Coast. Her companion Elise’s head quickly slides onto her shoulder. While everyone dozes on the bus, Angelina’s eyes focus on the mountains; the sleeping giant coming quickly into view. Dusty roads, potholes, brilliant sunshine and Fijian students in crisp white shirts, and formal navy-blue sulu or sarongs, waiting at the bus stop for a ride to school or walking along the road; she can’t sleep.
The hotel room is not ready upon arrival so Angelina and Elise saunter towards the breakfast buffet. Sitting at heavy square tables, with napkins decorated with tapa motifs, and the whir of ceiling fans above their heads Angelina was feeling excited.
One look at the range of food on display and her appetite quickly left her. Frayed, desiccated pancakes with brown bananas, fried eggs sitting congealed in a bain-marie, indigestible white bread only for toast, and the jams were strawberry and apricot.
Where was the pile of tropical fruit she had seen on the road side stalls along the highway –pyramids of green oranges called moli, watermelon whole and sliced into mouth-watering chunks, fragrant paw paws and mangoes to bite into and watch the sweetness drip down your chin.
‘I will head for the pool and sleep’ she thought. Eyelids fluttering, Angelina relaxes on the blue sun bed she has managed to find beside the pool. She pulls it back under the palm tree.
‘I am going for a walk’ says Elise. Elise is a tall, statuesque blonde, who is full of energy and moves at a lightning pace during her working week and even now on holiday wants to see it all, and tick off her mental checklist of what a holiday in the tropics should be.
Si, si,,,,, mutters Angelina, as she drifts into sleep.
Lawyers, letters sent and more letters in reply, and more paper wasted had left her exhausted. Fiji for a holiday had sounded like the perfect escape.
I don’t have to think about it anymore. I have done all I can.
She drifts into a dreamless sleep that washes over her, and allows her body to relax completely.

‘I can’t believe she has abandoned me already!’
Elise is sitting working on her tan in a swirling orange and pink tankini, her long legs dipping into the pool as she tells Angelina’s love story to other guests seated at the pool bar, while slurping on an endless gin and tonic.
I left Angelina lying on a sun bed while I walked down the beach. At the end of the resort is a brightly coloured collection of handicraft stalls you know. Have any of you been there? Yes well, there were five or six Fijian women sitting braiding hair and putting out stuff for sale.
I boldly asked ‘Does anyone feel like cooking with my friend Angelina? She is a great cook and she wants to learn about Fijian food”.
One of the ladies smiled and said ‘I will”
Her name is Tamia and she asked me to bring Angelina to meet her so I arranged a time later in the afternoon. They met, and Saturday at ten was the set time.
I had had a big night with my handsome Fijian waiters from the Italian restaurant the night before so I rolled over and told Angelina she could go alone.
She didn’t want to, but I had already booked a taxi which was waiting in the foyer.
She found herself at the bottom of a road leading up a hill. Beside the entrance was a thatched bure with seats; she could see other tin houses through the trees but she couldn’t work out where she had to go.
‘Angelina, Angelina’ a group of children rushed down the hill to meet her, took her by the hand and pulled her up the hill to auntie’s house. She had one kg of kava to give to the head of the household as a gift and sign of respect to the family.
Entering a wooden house with a tin roof, mats on the floor, Angelina met the big smile of Tamia.
She was stirring a pot of river prawns in coconut milk, turning a delicate shade of pink.
‘Come! Try some!’
The rich coconut milk slid down her throat feeling its way towards her stomach releasing a feeling of content.
This was more like it - Real Fijian food, authentic Fijian food cooked at home.
She looked around and Josefa, a young Fijian with an Aussie accent held up some big grey scaly fish he had caught on the reef early in the morning.
‘How do you want to cook these Angelina?’
‘With fresh garlic, fresh red chillies and plenty of lime juice’ replied Angelina.
Elei Angelina! You must be Fijian to cook like that!
Outside the bure, a broad shouldered ebony skinned Fijian male called Ula was digging a hole. He put some stones in the bottom and lit a fire. When the stones were red hot, and the wood had disappeared into a layer of charcoal, he started throwing hand-made baskets of threaded palm leaves filled with marinated chops, whole chickens and sausages onto the rocks.
‘Eh Angelina, do you want to help?’
‘Yes, yes what can I do?’
‘Here is a coconut scraper; Seleti over there will show you how to do it.’
Angelina turned around to see a tall and very handsome Fijian with an extra white smile beaming at her.
‘Come, come’, he beckoned her over. He was sitting on the edge of the bank on a box with a pointed metal scraper attached. Taking the coconut with both hands he turned the coconut slowly so that the milky white contents fall into a big pot below.
‘Tamia will make a Fijian speciality – polisami- which are taro leaf parcels filled with coconut and tomato or tinned fish or corn beef.’
Seleti made it look easy but Angelina found it quite hard to hitch her green peasant skirt, maintain modesty and do what he was doing.
I arrived late to see Angelina surrounded by kids laughing.
We were invited into the house to sit down either side of a long aqua tablecloth with a mixture of plates and cutlery set out along it.
Angelina was looking for somewhere to sit, so that she could prop herself up against a wall, but the cloth was in the middle of the room.
Seleti called to her ‘Come and lie down and eat. In Fiji, it’s not a problem.’
They laughed and joked all afternoon. He offered her a plate of roast pork saying’ In Fiji the head of the family is offered the best part of the pig, he will take a portion and then send it back to his wife to eat. The men and invited guests, seated at the top of the cloth, eat first and then the women, who are seated at the other end of the cloth with the cooking pot beside them, wait until everyone else has eaten and then they eat. It’s a way of communicating love and respect between a man and his wife.’
Do you know what he told her next? The best part of a man is a woman! She fell for it all.
I was trying to tell Josefa a story and Seleti was leaning towards Angelina the whole time whispering ‘Angelina what are you doing? Do you want to come and visit the coral reef restoration project with me tomorrow?’
They were looking at each other and not listening to me. ‘Can you believe it?’
Our taxi arrived at four and as we were walking down the hill and Seleti calls out to Angelina – ‘How many children do you want to have?’
‘At least five!’
They both laugh and Seleti calls out again ‘See you tomorrow at ten’
‘Si si or should I say ‘io!’ replies Angelina. ‘Io’ means ‘yes’ in Fijian, she informs me. I nudge Angelina in the back of the car.
‘He likes you, you know’
‘No he doesn’t’
‘Oh yes he does!’
‘How do you know?’
‘By the way he was looking at you’
‘I don’t know what you mean. I have had no man in my life for a long time. I wouldn’t know if a man was looking at me or not.’
‘Believe me, he was looking’.
Angelina blushed and turned away. ‘I don’t believe you Elise.’
You are wondering of course, where she is right now.
Well she is down the beach with her tall Fijian lover –her Greystoke, the jungle boy, the untamed one.....lucky girl!

Angelina was indeed sitting on the white sand of the marine protected area talking to Seleti while he packed up his gear.
Che giornata! What a day!
It had all started strangely. She had dragged herself out of bed and had prodded Elise. ‘Are you coming with me or not?’
‘No, you are going it alone’.
‘Va bene’
Elise calls out ‘The taxi is waiting for you upstairs’ as I leave the room. I decide to wear a long skirt as I had been told by Seleti that Fijian women cover their arms and legs. This Fijian custom is a little strange to me as it’s so hot! In Italy everyone would be in a bikini flaunting whatever they have got... Ah but I am always forgetting the strong influence of the Methodists here who taught the natives to cover up. I must show respect.
I arrive at Mara at around ten to find no one around. I walk towards the nearest bure calling out ‘Seleti, Seleti’ but no one answers.
I see a bunch of Fijian guys walking towards me with machetes in their hands, heading towards the plantation and I hear ‘Bula! Bula!
I quickly ask ‘ Seleti, do you know where he is’.
One of them disappears into a house and beckons for me to come in and sit down to wait.
I wait and wait and wait. I don’t know for how long… Mamma Mia! I am sitting here on a chair still waiting.
Josefa appears.
‘Sorry Angelina, Fiji time! Let’s go down the beach.’
Sono confusa. Here is Josefa, but where is Seleti?
We walk down the Queen’s highway towards the marine protected area. We walk along the white sandy beach and I take off my shoes so I can feel the crunch of the sand under my feet. We find a protected bay, with a pile of rocks.
Josefa disappears again while I sit on the sand again wondering what is going on. I watch the tiny white hermit crabs scurry across the beach. It looks like the shells are moving in a parade across the sand and I begin laughing to myself.
The heat of the sun on my back, the water of the lagoon changing from aqua to deep blue in the channels, the roar of the waves as they pound on the outer reef, and the sway of the palm trees above my head.
I close my eyes again and relax. Josefa reappears again with three green coconuts.
Eh Angelina, do you want a drink?
I take in his big machete about to slice through the coconut and gulp ‘Si, si, I mean io”
‘Here is a green coconut for you to drink. It will give you energy.’
Angelina stands up to drink and the clear coconut juice spills into her mouth and down her neck. It’s refreshing.
Josefa hands her a piece of fresh coconut. ‘Eat this; it will keep you satisfied for the next couple of hours while we swim.’
Groping around for her sunglasses, Angelina, sees a tall, lanky figure slowly walking towards her. She sees the ripped pale blue jeans, the bare feet and the water glistening on his torso. It’s Seleti carrying a net bag over his shoulder.
Seleti smiles and Angelina feels warm inside. He’s here at last.
‘Where have you been?
‘I went out to check some coral before coming here.’
‘Come’. He takes Angelina by the hand. ‘Do you want to look around before we swim?
He grabs her hand, and they step off the beach onto a grown over pathway which heads towards the point.
‘I have had a dream for five years to build a café on the beach here. What do you think? I can clear the trees; make a two storey wooden house with a deck looking out over the lagoon. People will love to come here, don’t you think?
Angelina looks around her at the lush green of the tropical forest, the coconut palms bending in the breeze, orange lines etched into their trunks revealing their age, the fish leaping in the lagoon and the white waves crashing on the edge of the reef.
‘Why not?’
‘You really think so?’
‘Will you help me?’
Why not? Angelina had plenty of experience in food and wine and could already see a café with a coffee machine and a barbecue on the side for grilling fresh fish.
‘You can get the local boys growing fruit, vegetables and fresh herbs for the café.’
‘Enough! Let’s go and visit the coral reef.’
At the water’s edge Seleti turns to Angelina ’Look at the waves Angelina, when they have white tops; we say they are smiling at you. The movement of the tides is the sea breathing life into the waves that touch the shore. The pull of the tides is the heart beat of the sea.
‘Josefa will take you on a snorkelling tour, while I swim out to the rack on the edge of the reef. You can join me there.’
Josefa takes her on an underwater journey. They swim past seaweed beds, along corridors of dead coral, which open out into a glittering sea garden. Tiny fish of every colour combination possible dart in and out. She swims over big white and brown sea slugs lying on the seafloor. Clown fish swim around her mask.
Josefa points to the surface, and then says ’Watch out for the fire coral Angelina! Don’t touch!”
Crabs clamber over coral, a big conga eel pokes his head out for a look, a reef shark appears in a deep water chasm, Angelina quickly swims over the top of him.
At the edge of the lagoon are sea racks for fast growing corals. Seleti is standing in chest high water, counting the corals. Concrete cones are filled with special putty and a small piece of coral is planted. The cones are left on the sea rack for five to six months and the corals grow big enough to be replanted on other reefs around the Pacific.
Angelina puts her mask on and dips her face underwater to see tiny blue fish on each coral cone, nibbling the algae growing there.
‘What do you think of my sea garden Angelina?’
‘Bello! Beautiful.’
‘I have brought these cones out to grow, and I will write your name in coral across the reef? What do you think Angelina?’
‘Grazie!’
Angelina turns around but Josefa has gone. She can see his flippers in the distance.
‘Come, Angelina, take my hand, I will show you my world and then take you back? Okay?’
‘Io!’
On the return trip all she remembers is his smile, how he made her laugh a lot, how she felt when he held her hand.
Sitting in the shallows trying to remove her flippers, Seleti in his very quiet voice beckons ‘Angelina, come here. I want to show you a trick I learnt on Turtle Island? Come into deeper water and sit of my lap. I will take your flippers off for you.’ ‘Okay.’
‘Okay.’
Feeling so close, Angelina looks up at Seleti and feels each flipper being flicked off her foot and tossed to shore.
Arms come around her waist and she is pulled closer
A kiss - A long slow kiss! Angelina, feels warmth shooting through her body. He does like me.
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Sitting on the bus heading back to the airport, Angelina’s brain was in a whir. What am I going to do? I like him, but I don’t know him.I have work to do back in Australia; I need to look after mamma. I have this court case to attend to. I don’t have time for love. I am too busy.
Elise taps her on the arm saying ‘Angelina, why didn’t you stay? You could have booked another week at the hotel, and you would still be lying in the arms of your jungle boy.’
In Angelina’s lap is a scrunched up wrapper from a chocolate bar, the tropical heat causing chocolate splotches across her bright pink summer dress. She quickly licks her fingers as the chocolate melts in her hand.
‘Sei pazza! You are crazy. I can’t do that. I don’t know what I am doing? I like him but why is this happening to me. Italy is where I want to be. This is just a holiday romance. I am crazy to think about making a life here. What can I do? How can I bring a jungle boy back to Australia? It’s too much! I don’t want to think about it anymore!’
A flash of their last morning together and Angelina was remembering trying to dress quickly. She pulled on jeans and a t-shirt to catch the van with Seleti into town to pick up some souvenirs for family and friends – jangly coconut bracelets, fans and other paraphenalia.
He held her hand as they walked around Sigatoka. Around him, she feels still, safe and secure.
Plenty of Fijians call out or stop Seleti asking ‘Eh Seleti, we have not seen you around for a long time! Who is this?’
It’s hot, steamy and humid. Sweat causes her jeans to stick, and her t-shirt to feel like gladwrap. She twists her hair into a coconut clip so that the warm droplets of body water forming on her neck can evaporate.
‘My girlfriend Angelina’
Angelina smiles at the memory. Her breath tightens as she remembers saying goodbye. Seleti had jumped out of the van at this village to run down to his house to get a pen to write his post box and telephone number. They had quickly exchange numbers and he shook hands with her saying ‘Angelina. Good bye. I hope to see you soon. I will miss you.’
Angelina wanted to hug him so badly but public displays of affection are not allowed.
‘I will miss you too.’ Tears run down Angelina’s cheeks as he bus winds its way up a hill heading towards Nadi airport.
‘I will come back, I promise.’ she whispers to the sleeping giant resting his head, to the palm trees, to the aquamarine waters of Denarau and to a tall quiet Fijian man who had stolen her heart. A new business and a new life with this man await. She opens the note he had thrust in her hand and there was a picture of a Fijian bure with a deck amid swaying coconut palms, two stick figures – Angelina and Seleti- smiling together, holding hands together.

Ginger scented chocolate mousse
with mango and passionfruit.

Serves 6

1 egg
2 egg yolks
100gr caster sugar
175 dark, milk or white chocolate melted and kept warm
60 gr of glace ginger, finely chopped, syrup reserved
1 ½ cups thickened cream whisked to soft peaks
Pulp of 6 passionfruit
1 large mango (approx 460 gr))

1. Combine egg and egg yolks in an electric mixer and whisk at high speed for five minutes or until pale and fluffy.
2. Combine sugar and 1/3 cup of water in a small saucepan and stir over a medium heat to dissolve sugar, then bring back to boil and cook until syrup reaches hard ball stage ( 121 degrees on a sugar thermometer).
3. Reduce mixer to a low speed and add syrup to egg mixture in a thin steady stream and then increase speed to high speed and whisk for 5-7 minutes or until completely cold.
4. Fold in the chocolate, then the glace ginger and cream.
5. Combine the passionfruit pulp and two teaspoonfuls of syrup from the glace ginger in a small bowl.
6. Divide the mango among serving glasses, spoon over passionfruit syrup then spoon the chocolate mousse over fruit and refrigerate for one hour or until set.
7. Scatter with chocolate curls and serve immediately.

Christmas in Tassie 2009

2009-12-14T18:33:00.000-08:00

December 14th a year ago Chita rang me while I was out on the Derwent river taking 6 students through a motor boat licence. He had accidentally told the Department of Immigration that we were getting married in December. I got back to shore, googled marriage celebrants and got someone to marry us. This year has gone so fast. Its been a roller coaster ride.
Chita and I are two single people, different gender and culture who have spent their first year together. Aprilthis year, I gathered up heaps of paperwork to satisfy the immigration case manager and a month later Chita received temporary residency which comes up in April 2011- and THEN he can become a permanent resident of Australia. I have never been much of a number and date girl, but a calendar is now a vital part of my life.
On December 18 last year Chita arrived on a plane from Nadi, with a backpack, looking thin, and goosebumps on his arms, to meet me. A year later he has completed a Certificate III in Aged Care, has been contracted as a teacher aide at a high school here in Hobart and does casual shifts in Aged Care. He now has a wardrobe of his own, full of stuff he buys from the salvos, or has been given by friends and family. He also has a basket of shoes, size 12.
He has his Learner's permit and will chalk up the required 50 hours in January to apply for an automatic licence.We are also looking at buying a more recent model automatic car and will be doing our research in the holidays. I can't wait for him to take over more of the driving. I have felt like a parent, having to drop him off places and then hang around sometimes to pick him up.
The challenge for any Australian woman who brings an Indigenous Fijian to Australia is suddenly realising that I am responsible for another person who does not have a clue about MY life.I have to manage two lives not one.
The benefits are having someone to share the journey. Someone who has a beaming smile and is very cheeky and makes me laugh a lot. Someone who can do the hard physical stuff, that I struggle with. Someone to talk to on a long car ride to Launceston. Someone who sings to me daily. Someone who gives me a hug daily - yes he does....
The hard stuff for me is....

I have all the financial responsibility. He thought my family would buy a house for us and that I would buy him a car.... He is learning the word 'budget' and has his own savings account. The day after he opened it, he raced back to the bank to check it was all still in there....
He worked and saved for a boys weekend in Adelaide to see the Fiji Sevens and the Tassie Fijians were in the background most days of the tv viewing. He has been to Melbourne twice, and Sydney for Fiji Day in October. The Tubunas get around...
I have had to support this man that I love totally to come to terms with a completely different culture. Everything I think about is for us both and that's been a big adjustment for both of us. Dreams of Sicily in September have been blown out the window as we discuss strategies to make our lives together better.
I have had to develop communication strategies to bridge the male-female divide with someone who comes from a male dominated culture. I have been a strong and independent woman for a long time now, and it has been tough at times.
I have had to support someone who has had continual bouts of homesickness and spent the first 8 months asking 'When am I going back to Fiji?".
Turning the 'I' into a 'we' is a perpetual journey.
You can take the Fijian out of the village, but the village is still in his head. I have had some major issues to deal with and we are slowly working on them.
Being a couple, is an expected part of our culture. Chita initially thought he could just keep doing what he was doing in Fiji and I would do whatever I was doing (he had no idea) and everything would be hunkydory. Not so.
One of the funny moments this year is asking him to wear a suit to a black tie function a couple of weeks a go. His instant response ' I will dress the way I want to". I tried to carefully explain that formal means formal so his agreed concession was to wear a sulu. My sister in law had offered a suit. We had one night to go around and try it on; he refused. Three days later as I am throwing our stuff into the car to drive 2.5 hours to the party. His response was:
Its cold. I think I need to wear my grey jacket and pants.
Its formal remember. Too late. We have no suit. Wear your sulu.
We drive to our destination and I ring a friend who we were going to stay with the following evening. I have learnt that if I try and convince him to do things, I am bossy, and his 'mother' and he digs his heels in and shuts down. Its much easier to hand ball to someone else who he knows and doesn't react to. My friend Mary found a suit, a pale blue shirt, a pale blue, brown and black bowtie and walked him through it.
As he walks to the car, he tells me this is the first and last time he will wear a suit. I smile.
At the party everyone tells him how handsome he looks; Chita beams. At the end of the evening I walk up to him and ask:
How was the party for you?
Easy! Piece of Cake!
One of our big discussions has been about weekends. Chita has become number 7 in the Fijian community and the guys have welcomed him with open arms. We are suddenly a part of a Fijian Australian wedding, the funeral of a Fijian Minister which lasted TWO WEEKS, and kava nights whenever the boys feel like it.It came to a head when I realised he was having a great time and I was staying home alone.... we now talk about balance, between his friends, my friends, time alone and quality time together.
Quality time together is my biggest challenge. Chita runs his social life as it was in the village. My idea of romantic dinners, walks along the beach, going to the movies, and visiting friends for a gourmet weekend retreat- do not exist. He is still in his comfort zone, which I drag him out of occasionally and immersion in Australian culture is still really limited.
We have played mixed volleyballs on a Wednesday nights with friends which has been fun for me, but an adjustment for him as he is a competitive Fijian and the hit and giggle concept is not for him.
He is still uncomfortable in cafes,bars and restaurants. Tasmania is a white Anglo culture, despite a few Sudanese so he feels self conscious. The kids at school thought he was a black American initially, then started calling him 'Puma" instead of Chita (Jita. He can't fade into the background here, but has had to step up and be forthcoming - its taken a year but he is doing extremely well.
I have booked a beach shack for four days in January and we are going to go there alone.... let's see how long that lasts!
We are both community minded and like helping people but I keep reminding him that it shouldn't be not at the cost of our developing relationship. Chita has not had a 'stop' or say 'no button'. We have a 1964 weatherboard with a neglected garden, a veggie patch to dig, a compost heap to set up, a worm farm to get going, and some leaks to plug up. A renovation plan is in our minds but will take years to activate.
We are hosting our first Christmas for my family- 24 in all if everyone turns up. It will be fun watching him run around, play with the kids, serve drinks, wheel my father to the table in his wheel chair, eating Christmas pudding for the second time, glazing the ham stuffing the turkey and enjoying it all.
He spent the weekend with a chain saw chopping down small trees in our garden and cutting down a small pine tree on our boundary line. He brought it inside, filled an old green tin with earth and put it in a corner for me; he trimmed the branches so we could fit the star on top, and watered the garden while I hung up the decorations. He loved it.
Its fun sharing my family celebrations with him and my idea of entertaining with him too.
On Saturday afternoon I invited a few galpals around for a Christmas drink. I decorated the table, threw together a couple of canapes, and sweet treats, and he ended up saying. 'I can't find anyone free this afternoon can I hang around?'
Sure. He served drinks, welcomed everyone with a Merry Christmas and then disappeared into the garage.
His comment- I haven't seen girls do that before...now I get it.
We have had some big fights, arguments and discussions on what a Fijian Australian relationship should look like. Being accountable, avoidance and shut down are not working for him so having to be straight with me is still a challenge. He speaks Fijian daily to the myriad of Fijians in Tasmania, Australia and Fiji that he knows. He has just discovered that seven of his high school mates have migrated to Oz and live in Brisbane. He is ecstatic to be back in contact. He has daily phone calls from the Fiji 8 ( yes another guy has arrived) and a myriad of texts with a constant stream of jokes.... He now turns off his mobile at meal times, and chooses to answer the phone when he is ready, instead of jumping up and running for the phone whenever it rings... the novelty is wearing out. His phone credit never lasts, and he blew most of mine on the weekend.
Its Christmas! We have sent money to his mum and money to his daughter.... so December is covered. If you need to send money overseas Moneygram is the way to go. A flat fee of $12 is charged for up to $2000 Fijian. We never send that much, but it has irked me greatly that Western Union charges $35 and gives a poor exchange rate.
I can't wait for the holidays to potter with my husband in our garden, do a bit of maintenance, and hang. Not having a schedule, not having to get up early, not having to go to meetings, will be fun. We have a barbecue so meals are sorted.
New Year's Eve 2009 is our first year anniversary. We will start with a Fijian lovo and party but will hopefully end up alone...

A home at last!

2009-07-28T20:43:00.000-07:00

Since Chita arrived in December I have been wondering how we could buy a house. We have no money, but there must be a way. How can I take advantage of the First Home Owners Grant? It kept bubbling beneath the surface of my thoughts and after we organised the Spouse visa interview, only to find we had to pay a bridging fee of $600 instead of $2,400 things started looking up.
A couple of months ago I was in my office doing a quick flick through real estate and saw a house that could do. I had figured out that we didn't have much to spend in Hobart and I wanted to try and find a renovator's delight which wasn't awful around $240,000.
We had started spending weekends looking at houses in Mornington, Moonah, Warrane, Glenorchy and Seven Mile Beach - a pipe dream as Chita has a learner's licence but needs 50 hours before he can get his P plates..... what to do.
I submitted an email to have a look at the property and got a reply on Wednesday - what time? I drove up Barossa Road, looking for the number, and discovered an acqua blue weatherboard - beach shackesque and thought, this doesn't feel like the city. It borders on a reserve - Chita can run up the fire trails. It has a semi rural aspect in the next block of houses - its only ten minutes from North Hobart - this could be it. Offers over $230,000. Okay.
I went for a walk through the house - the three bedrooms are a good size, the living area is L shaped with floor boards and there was plenty of backyard for my boy - who is itching to set up a veggie garden.
I came home raving about it, and convinced Chita to go and have a look with his mate Sam. Yep, they liked it too. Then fate played its hand. The tenants were expecting a baby and a building clause had been put in place that no one could visit the property once the baby was born. The baby arrived, and we were the only offer on the house. The real estate agent convinced the owner to sell. I upped the offer to what she wanted and the house was ours.
Getting the bank loan proved to be one of the biggest challenges of my life. I applied to one finance broker who kept me waiting three weeks and I finally realised that he was a bullshit artist and hadn't done anything on our behalf. I changed brokers and got approval in two days. Going to the banks was a nightmare as I did not have three months of salary savings - 4 years of constantly flying back to Fiji and saving for it, as well as supporting a business counted for nothing. I had to find a Building Society which would lend us the dough. We went for My State as they were based in Hobart but B & E were another option we didn't take up, as they are in Launceston and we didn't have enough time. Luckily I have a permanent position with the Department of Education which helped. Waiting for the finance was the worst bit. You feel as if you are not worthy. They keep ringing and asking for more documentation but in the end we got it...
My sister had a look on the internet and called it the Blue Moo, so that's our house for now.
Pikcing up the keys to the house a couple of weeks a go was also a bit of an anxious moment as the solicitors had settled at 12 but the papework had not been handed over to the real estate agent- there was a ten minute wait to see if they were going to give me the keys or not. They did.
Walking through the house that first evening, I realised all the things I had not paid attention to - the dilapidated paint work, the curtains, the fluorescent lights, but none of it mattered. The house is ours.
We spent a weekend painting and then moved in last weekend. A fresh coat of paint has made all the difference. However there are a few touchups to be done, and paint splats on floors to scrape off, but it feels clean.
There had been five cats in the bedroom but I slept like an angel.

Yippee!

2009-03-24T18:45:00.000-07:00

I am back at last. I have been working on intercultural and interpersonal relationships between a Fijian and an Australian for the last three months. Its been a busy time for us, with a wonderful summer, me getting back into the swing of work and Chita trying to get work.
He started out well with two days a week at a gourmet butchery here in Hobart. He learnt how to use a computerised slicer and package the best bacon in Tassie for customers all over Australia. However with the economic downturn they no longer needed a casual.
I drove past a Turkish restaurant one Sunday night and he successfully applied for some waitering work and now serves Turkish food to eager customers. He had three shifts a week but that has dropped to one and now we are busy finding courses in care either aged care or students with disabilities for Chita to pursue.
Money has always been tight for us, so nothing has changed there. We are both catering for a private party on Saturday night. Chita is in charge of lugging stuff and setting up and I am cooking and serving food while he manages the bar. What a team!
We have come to an agreement that I cannot presume he knows what to do in all situations so I can tell him or show him what to do. That works in theory but telling a male what to do is rarely successful. I have to find a lighthearted and cheey voice to get my point across as my serious voice offends.
Some funny moments have been:
Me trying to keep the petrol cap open so we can get petrol into our car only to find he has taken hold of the wrong pump and I was trying to put diesel in - luckily it all dripped down the side of the car.
We were housesitting my brother's house and I came back from work to find the cat growling and howling. I looked in Spike's food bowl and found it filled on one side with kitty litter and the other side with dog food. He had read the note saying there is kitty litter under the sink and please fill the container. He just got the wrong container.
I am working full time, so when I come home he is there all happy and smiley waiting for me, and I am ready to space out for twenty minutes and recoup my happy smiley self. I give him a kiss and a hug first and then regroup and we cook dinner together.
We are a team in the house - I cook and he washes up which is great.
We have met the Fijian community in Hobart and he is number seven male. We have been invited over by all members and two of them Pita and Sam have become great mates with Chita and keep him busy. Pita has a tea with him every morning before work,and he usually drops in for a chat in the afternoon before heading home. Sam picks Chita up and they go and weed his vegetable garden, go for a drive, or go op shopping. Chita came home with a $3 bag of goodies last week including a fab jacket that just happened to be made in Fiji, jeans and great shirts. The boys were very pleased with themselves.
Last Sunday we took a long drive out into the country to a friend of our's rural retreat- a cottage at Deddington. The day was grey and gloomy with some rain, but once we hit the gravel and dirt road, the sun peeked through. We were welcomed by Suzanne with a wave from outside the front garden. We drove down the long drive and parked under an enormous tree. The day was idyllic. We helped set the table up on two picnic tables out in the nextdoor field. We had cows grazing in front of us, and Ramsay the ram loitering and sniffing us nearby. We sat down to marinated quail with a red wine fig and olive sauce, followed by a pear and treacle upside down cake which was delicious. Chita disappeared to sleep on the nearby river bank with the cows munching and crunching in his ear. The rest of us found places to crash for a siesta. I had my feet massaged by Chris and then I fell on some cushions and rugs to drink coffee and eat chocolate macadamia nuts with the rest of the guests.
Around 4.30 those with energy disappeared to collect wild mushrooms and Chita emerged with a big smile and two fistfuls of mushrooms which were cooked in butter and garlic, and placed on toasted sour dough as a bruschetta before the long drive home.
I love the peace and quiet here....... he says and I did too.

2009-01-28T18:57:00.001-08:00

Our journey!

2009-01-19T18:31:00.000-08:00

Over the last few days I have had a chance to think about what I am doing. I am an unpublished writer. I have a stockpile of manuscripts in my cupboard. I intend to write a novel about an intercultural Fijian relationship soon. I started writing this blog because I was desperate to understand Fijian culture, its traditions and customs and there is nothing out there.I thought that by sharing my experiences I could assist others in the same situation. I have had plenty of confirmation from friends met through this blogsite that I have helped.
I have lived in Italy and for twenty years I have immersed myself in the lifestyle and learnt the language. When I am in Italy now I blend into Italian life.
Fiji is different. I am a kavalagi. I am different. Fijian culture is still a mystery to me. I tried to learn the language but had difficulty finding someone who with the time to spend on conversation. I only learnt about tradition when I had made a mistake. It has been frustrating. My relationship with my husband has succeeded only because we have created a level of communication which bridges two cultures. He has to compromise and so do I. We treat each other as equals and respect each other.
I am so proud of him. He is adjusting to Australian daily life and makes inciteful comments frequently to the differences. Every country has good and bad and plenty of social problems. It is my view. I will not be compromised. I live in a democracy with freedom of Speech. I am sad to see the comments by Fijians and am sad to see that not one of them had the guts to leave their name. That is a side of Fijian culture I don't like.
Thank your for your support and positive comments all my kavalagi friends out there. This blog site is written for you. In Fijian culture people are quiet and in the village situation I have heard Chita say often - I can't say much'. That is not the Australian way- when we have an issue of problem we talk about it. We don't have to wait for a village meeting to speak our opinions out loud. I have never meant to offend - I have tried to use humour instead.
I have nothing to hide except a strong and deep love for my husband. I have spent four years supporting him, his family and his clan. We opened a village business which I am proud of. It has been a struggle to get him to Australia. It has taken a personal toll upon me. I have had to prepare all the paperwork, change jobs so I could support his application and apply for visitor's visa. I had to cut back my living expenses to nothing so I could afford to go back to Fiji and see him every three months. Last year I got seriously ill from the stress of it all but we did it!! I made a commitment to my husband that I would be there for him always. He and I are very happy.
Arriving at Melbourne airport at 11 pm in a near empty airport all I can remember is his smile. We walked around Melbourne city the next day and his comment to me was ' I am in the land of the kavalagi'. I looked through his eyes and instead of seeing Australians on holiday, he is now seeing Australians participating in daily life. Our flight back to Tas was delayed for 8 hours and the two of us were tired, bored and desperate to get on a plane - His comment cracked me up - If I spend much more time here I will turn white.
He has got a job already working two days a week for a gourmet butcher. His first pay was the equivalent of three weeks work in Fiji. He is very grateful. I am about to take him on a walkabout tomorrow to find more casual work - probably in Hospitality. We are no longer a separate entity - we are 'Us' and we are heading towards a future as a couple. Laughter is going to be the way forward. He still has issues with pyjamas - an ozzie concept but I have agreed that he is making so many adjustments on a daily basis that we will take change one day at a time.
However, I have the responsibility of this man. We still have to apply for a spouse visa and meet all the conditions. I have been a single and independent woman who has travelled the world and loves OTHER CULTURES. I have to adjust to someone else being in my appartment and my life. So far it has been fun.
Chita's cousin Joe in Sydney remarked that he loved the burgers in Australia. Chita has already told me - I know why Fijians stay in Australia, there is so much food to choose from. Watching Chita enjoy day trips driving around Tassie, eating new foods - creme de menthe meringues and apple and rhubarb crumble are off his list, playing touch footy on Sunday and getting to meet a few people, hanging out with my brother, being welcomed into my family, and us spending time together. He has been here over a month and last year I only spent a week in January in Cyclone Gene, a week in June, an week in September. Our journey has begun!

Fiji is always close!

2009-01-18T00:08:00.000-08:00

Having Chita here in Australia has been great. He is adjusting to a new way of life, but retaining his dignity as a Fijian living in Australia. He and I both love Fiji and would love to be building up a business in Fiji, assisting the village community of Votua and providing education and training to young Fijians from his clan.
Unfortunately, at the moment that is not possible. We have two good friends running the business for us, and we know we can always go back and visit. We are also organising a way to support his mum from Oz.
I have had a recent comment from a Fijian male, saying that I am being disrespectful to Chita's family and his culture. That is something I would never do. I started this blog to build bridges so that other Australian girls who find themselves in the same circumstances will need patience and persistance in an intercultural relationship. I respect his family and his clan. I have never talked about them. Living with two cultures requires flexibility, patience, mutual tolerance and respect. Chita and I have begun that journey.

We're Married!

2009-01-12T14:54:00.000-08:00

The last three weeks have been a blur of new experiences for Chita and lots of eating and drinking and meeting all my friends and family. Luckily Chita is an experienced meeter and greeter from his days at the Naviti and has a large family, so he has coped very well.
I flew to Melbourne on Friday December 19th to pick him up. I was wondering how he would cope with the transfer in Sydney from the international airport to the domestic airport to pick up his Melbourne flight but in true Fijian style, he was sitting on the plane next to someone he knew who lived in Sydney and helped him out. He did tell me he wasn't watching the time so he had to RUSH to get to the airport lounge. Jen, a friend of mine and I drove out to the airport to pick him up at 9.30 and of course Jetstar was not running on time, so he arrived around 11 pm. We had to walk out to practically the last gate lounge and wait in a near empty airport. As people streamed off the plane my eyes were glued- looking for a tall Fijian with a back pack and all of a sudden he appeared with a big smile, and even gave me a hug at the airport- a first. We drove off to Lygon Street and introduced him to eating out at midnight- a pizza on the street with heat lamps above.
We looked at each other and I had to keep saying to myself - he really is here.... somewhere in my brain, disbelief was holding strong. The next day we took him to the Crown casino and walked for hours. His comment to me was - I am in the land of the kavalagi - and he was right not a Fijian or a palm tree in sight. We took him down Flinders lane and showed him the tiny hole in the wall cafes and ended up eating Vietnamese on Swanston street.
Sunday I lazed in bed while he decided to clean up Jen's garden. He used the Fijian approach of hack away and it should all grow again thick and fast but temperate climates are not quite like that. It looked tidy to me but he apparently hacked a palm tree and Jen was a bit miffed. She said' I don't know what he used to cut that down. I do, but that's another story.
We decided to catch the tram into the city to Spencer Street.I wanted to buy big foot a pair of cheap casual shoes so we ran around the DFO outlet and found a pair. We took the bus to the airport and arrived at 12.31 and stood in line for five minutes and then I realised we would miss our flight. I asked a ground hostess for help and she directed us to a booking desk but then reappeared a minute later and said 'I am sorry you have missed the flight'. I went to the service desk and had to pay two late fees for a 4.30 pm flight which was delayed to 8 pm. I could not believe it. Chita and I had lunch then we wandered the airport, and he had Nandos for dinner. He turned to me and said - If I spend much more time in this airport I am going to turn white. I laughed.
We arrived back in Hobart and I picked up my car from valet parking and drove him home to our flat in the dark. He had no idea where he was going and what was around him.
After months of living at his mothers, or friends, he walked into our tiny flat and said ' I love it!'. I cranked up the heater to tropical in our bedroom and we slept.
How to handle a Fijian who has resisted marriage - he told his mum he would never marry- and had no idea of the wedding preparations involved. One day at a time and one step at a time. We had to go to Launceston for Christmas and then had a week to get the final details for the wedding sorted. I broached discussion but he kept saying ' give me one more day before we talk about it' . Then time started running out.
We had to visit the marriage celebrant Christine to discuss the wedding ceremony and verify our existence with passports and birth certificates. I am usually super organised but I knew I was stressing when I forgot to ask him to bring his passport and birth certificate. We also arrived late as Chita decided to have a shower, a beer with my landlord and then I had to prod and poke him into the car. A coffee calmed me down and Christine gave us the lowdown. I would like the wedding ceremony before Christmas if possible. I said 'yes' but forgot that we had people to see and things to do. Christmas day came and went and I received a phone call from Christine demanding the wedding ceremony by 9.30 Christmas night. Bloody hell. Things became complicated as mum and dad's computer was not connected and I had to use a friend's Mac. I cut the ceremony back to very simple and asked Chita what he wanted to say - I do. Easy. Then I tried to email it. It would not work. Boxing day morning and I am hoping for an internet connection. I rang my sisters Polly and Georgy for help but they were not sure why it wasn't working. Polly said she would ring me back after her breakfast only to tell me that she could not help, did not have a car to come round and at that point I was freaking out and thought- Why the bloody hell did you ring me back just to tell me you could not help? I eventually got the wedding ceremony attached and sent. I really did not have time to review so I hope I got it right.
Back to Christmas.... We drove to Lonny to stay at a friend's house. We walked into mum and dad's house and my sister Emma's response was. Mandy he is so handsome. You have given all the single girl's out there - hope.... He was out of earshot and did not hear a thing.
My doubting family who have been secretly thinking that I have been spending all my time and energy on someone who is just using me, were wreathed in smiles and he was polite, well mannered and very attentive with my armchair bound father. He had his first European Christmas - turkey and ham and the strange black pudding which we all love - Christmas pudding. In bed that night, his stomach was experiencing orchestral manouvres in the dark. I was laughing my head off - saying' you have gone from a fish and rice diet to lots of protein and carbs - take it easy!
Boxing day was a picnic in the park and we were meeting friends at Punchbowl reserve. I had bought an inflatable santa suit for my brother to wear. Mum had said -' do you think Chita would wear it?' I replied - a black santa might be a bit much fo4 everybody'. Chita went to the toilets to help my brother Sean put it on. He waddled out with a box of chocolates, I cracked up laughing and kids appeared from everywhere to touch Santa.... 'Very Australian' was Chita's reply.
So now for the wedding. My sister in law texted me on December 27th saying - Prouds is having a %40 discount so we rushed down and tried on silver wedding rings. Cheap and cheerful for us.... my wedding ring was mistaken for white gold, and I said nothing. Then a phone call to a friend for a bunch of flowers, and another friend for the wedding cake. Chita and I went shopping and bought food for the wedding party - I made teriyaki beef skewers, Thai chicken skewers, lemon and oregano squid, and sausage rolls for the kids... Mum and Emma helped with the skewers- a time consuming job. The wedding dress was borrowed from my sister Emma who had bought a fab frock for Derby day. I conveniently had a pair of cream shoes to match.
I asked Emma on Boxing Day if I needed to dry clean the dress and her reply - You should, as I actually slept in it the last time I wore it....
Mary, a very close friend had lent me a gold tiara, a garter and rollers for my homespun hairdo so I was set.
On New Year's Eve my brothers took Chita off my hands. He went with them down to the dog beach to collect stones for a lovo on the cleared back block behind the house. He and Danny then bought enough meat to feed a Fijian village and there were only 30 guests.
Meanwhile I was still in my pyjamas having a coffee and chat to Jen, who decided to get me organised. She rang every beauty salon in Hobart to see if I could get a spray tan. Yes at 11.30- so we zoomed into town, she dropped me off, and I went into the salon in a pair of old tracky daks and a zip up jacket. Jen had told me that I would just walk into a booth and the jets would automatically tan me. No - I was stark naked and the salon assistant sprayed it on me by hand. I had no time for modesty and it was all over in five minutes anyway. However, I could not wash for two hours. Jen's retort - well Chita has kept you waiting sometimes for up to six hours, if you keep him waiting half an hour, that's what's gonna happen.
We decided to go and have a coffee at Jackman and Ross bakery in Battery Point - I was in a no reaction zone, and not stressed at all. I had a coffee and brioche and then we dropped into Tess's house to check up on the cake and her whole family - took one look saying 'Mandy you are getting married in an hour". I was still relaxed. I then decided to ring to check up on the flowers as they had not been dropped off. Gwenyth replied saying ' I hope tomorrow is better weather than today' I gently stressed' Yes, but I am getting married today at 2 pm and not tomorrow'. Gwenyth sprinted off to her mother in law to ask for a quick posy and a lovely bunch of sweet peas and roses appeared.
Now for the hair do. I never wear my hair up. It usually looks terrible as my face is so round. I never wear much make up either. I started putting in rollers and Jen helped. Her brother is a hair dresser so she had a few clues. I had asked my hairdresser in Lonny what to do. Spray each strand with hairspray, roll up and spray some more. Then spray your whole head before you take out the rollers, and repeat when all rollers are removed. Arrange the curls and spray some more. I put on some make up, Jen arranged my hair into curls behind the gold tiara. I slipped on the dress and shoes and felt fabulous. Photos will accompany when I can extricate them from family members.
We headed for Jen's Saab convertible and headed for West Hobart to my brother Daniel and his wife Linda's house. At the bottom of the hill we took the roof off and drove up the roller coaster steep drive way to the house. Everyone came out on the balcony to greet us and I heard Polly saying ' Whose car is that?'.
Everyone gasped and jaws dropped as I emerged from the car in my wedding glory. I know I scrub up well, but it was great to surprise my family like that. I walked inside and upstairs to wait, while Jen rushed in with the wedding song, and the ring cushion for my nephew Joshie.
Sacha Dane my three year old nephew appeared and came upstairs to hold my hand. A few of my nieces and nephews appeared and walked me into the living room which had been cleared and everyone was waiting. I thought I would be really stressed but I wasn't. I was extremely calm. Chita was standing there in a black shirt and blue sulu with a big smile. We stood in front of the marriage celebrant and my chucked together ceremony began.
When my sister Emma read out this poem there was not a dry eye in the house. Even Chita was sniffling and had tears running down his cheeks.
Today by Betrand Russell
Today I marry my friend,
The one I have laughed and cried with
The one I have learned from and shared with
The one I have chosen to support, encourage and give myself to
Through all the days given us to share.
Today I marry the one I love.
We played 'Seasons of Love' from Rent which talks about what happens in the year of a life with friends....
My brother spoke well.. talking about our persistence and patience over the last four years and talked about Chita's commitment to his village and how he has helped with so many community projects...
The rest of the day was a blur - champagne appeared, one of my sister's Trina cooked some of the food I had prepared, Chita took off his sulu, and tied it around his head while preparing the lovo - he had shorts on underneath of course. The kids all surrounded him to help, so he made spears out of wood for them all - a few eyebrows were raised....
The cake was a confection of chocolate mousse, meringue, dark chocolate torte and cream encased in white chocolate fondant in folds - a three tier extravaganza with frosted blueberries and raspberries. I had never seen anything like it. Perfect.
We had lovo for dinner cooked by my brothers, Chita and the kids.... a bit of karaoke, and then we watched the fireworks over the harbour for New Year's eve.
Around 10 pm we drove home to our little flat.
Amanda, can you please make me a toasted sandwich, I did not eat very much today.
He was busy serving everyone else and making sure everyone else was comfortable.
I walked into the bedroom carrying a hot toasted sandwich and Chita was in bed, curled up fast asleep.

All I want for Christmas is you!

2008-12-18T17:26:00.000-08:00

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!

Visas for Fijian Males to Australia

2008-11-26T17:28:00.000-08:00

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!

Hanging in there!

2008-11-17T21:56:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-11-16T20:48:00.000-08:00

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?

Sandwiched, Skint, but Sweaty!

2008-09-28T23:19:00.000-07:00

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!

Fiji in September!

2008-08-26T17:29:00.000-07:00

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.....

Good and Bad News!

2008-08-14T20:02:00.000-07:00

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...

How to know if a Fijian man is married?

2008-08-06T01:03:00.000-07:00

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.

Taste of the Tropics!

2008-07-16T22:23:00.001-07:00

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!

My birthday wish!

2008-07-07T22:04:00.000-07:00

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...

International interfamilial intercultural dilema solving

2008-06-22T20:13:00.000-07:00

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.

Fijian funerals, food and the sting in my tail!

2008-06-10T21:28:00.000-07:00

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!

Births, deaths and accidents!

2008-06-03T17:45:00.000-07:00

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.

Drinking to excess!

2008-05-21T20:58:00.000-07:00

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.

Fijian Men

2008-05-20T23:13:00.000-07:00

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...

I am here and he is there!

2008-01-02T19:33:00.000-08:00

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.

Fiji Bleedin' Fiji!

2007-09-02T18:40:00.000-07:00

I know its been a while. I returned to Tassie in May to fill the very empty coffers and to repay and enormous phone call I had unwittingly created. I have found work as a relief teacher in a number of Northern Tasmanian schools, and travelling around has been most enjoyable. I find visiting different schools a challenge, a bit of an adrenalin surge as I walk into an unknown class and work out how they are going to respond. On the whole, very well, as it turns out. I have also done a bit of travelling around the North East and absolutely love it. We used to have a beach shack at Bridport and memories overtake me everytime I drive into the town.
Meanwhile back in Fiji, Chita loses his mobile phone accidentally and I have no way of talking to him for a couple of months, other than arranging chats on his brother's mobile phone. Joe is supposed to be working in the cafe with Chita, but never seems to be around. I ring Friday nights and talk to his wife, or Saturday mornings and arrange a chat with Chita. To a Fijian with a very elastic sense of time, he can wait until he sees me next, but as an uptight European I need constant contact and it drives me nuts.
Although he did say last time I talked to him
'Its good to hear your voice!'
I am constantly racking my brains how to get back to Fiji and trying to find a job seems the perfect solution. However, I have been applying for jobs in Hospitality for over a year and no response until I arrived home one Friday night to hear my dad say:
'A man from Fiji called!'
I immediately thought 'Shit, something has happened to Chita?' Then my rational brain kicked in - if he was hurt, Victor would surely call me, and he has my mobile number......
so who is this mystery man?
I waited impatiently until 7 pm, and got a phone call from a food and beverage manager at a resort saying' Do you still want the job as Restaurant Manager?'
I quickly replied' Yes'.
I waited a very long week for him to ring back and say' Can you come to Fiji for an interview?'
I so wanted this job. I wanted to leap on the next plane. Then I decided to query the job. I had not received a job description or salary. I looked up a payscale website and found out how much I would be paid in Oz, and made an offer of my own.
I flew to Nadi where transport was supposedly waiting to pick me up. A van. I was dropped off at the foyer of the hotel, and the F & B manager raced up, introduced himself and said
" Settle yourself in, we'll have an interview tomorrow'.
I showered, changed and waited for my love to appear. Nothing, no one, nada. I rang Phylis who came to pick me up and we started searching for him. In the village was a farewell for Chita's brother Joe and his wife Natalie, who are migrating to the US and Chita nowhere in sight.
With no mobile I couldn't track him down. I rang Victor on the hill - no answer. Having just survived the flight I couldn't be stuffed walking up the hill to see if he was there, and Phylis hates driving her four wheel drive up there as the road is steep and very rocky.
I waited. Nothing. No one. Had dinner with Phylis and then headed back to the hotel to rest and prepare for my interview. At 10 O' clock I get a phone call from Chita. He had been recovering from too much kava for a wedding or funeral up at Victors and had just strolled down the hill to Phylis's house. She told him to call.
I thought ' buggar it. You can wait until tomorrow to see me. My mind is on getting this job!'
The interview went well the next morning. I really liked the F & B manager but there was no clear job description and no job offer. We talked about upgrading the restaurant menu and retraining staff. It all appealed greatly. The restaurant is only open at night and I could work with Chita by day in the milkbar..... great thoughts...
I was asked to prepare a few food items for the Regional Director, a man loathed in these parts, and I was a bit anxious. Working in a side kitchen with little or no equipment was difficult. I needed time to get someone to set up what I needed as far as ingredients and equipment. I spent 3 hours the first night testing the kitchen preparing two items which should have taken me an hour. The next day I was supposed to have everything ready to go, with assistance. Instead I found myself swinging around in akitchen, with cupboards locked and the Head chef nowhere in sight. Preparing the food took 5 and half hours..... I had help in assembling the dishes for half an hour only.
I was a nervous wreck. The director is a rude and arrogant man. I knew that. He pulled my dishes apart.
I made homemade tortelloni filled with ricotta, prawns and cinnamon, in a lemon butter sauce.
His response ' What's that? I don't see a big New Zealand or Aussie guy eating those.'
Then I made a salad pizza. It should have been rocket and parmesan on top but of course I couldn't find it.
"What's that? This time laughing.
I seared tuna on top of a lemon risotto cake served with caramelised onions in vincotto and shredded basil and orange zest on top.
'What else can you put on top of that?'
I could tell this guy wanted to piles and over load. Fijian hotel food is stuck in the 70's. Where was the cream sauce and trio of prawns?
I was so pissed off. I have never felt so demoralized in my life, when he flicked his fingers at me and said' Off you go, I will talk to the F& B manager'.
I went up to get my portfolio and then waited in my room.
I was invited for a drink in a far corner of the Japanese restaurant by the manager who then offered me
$20,000 Aust salary.
I was angry. Then I thought about it. If I could work just nights at the restaurant and then by day with Chita maybe this could work. I swallowed my pride and said 'yes'
I flew back to Oz and waited for the contract. When it came, I thought ' Where are all the benefits we discussed that would make working for the hotel worthwhile?
Nowhere to be seen.
I sent a copy to a friend to look at. Her response. Its a standard contract but where's the job offer. No relocation package. Unspecified working hours, and no opportunity to work elsewhere to subsidise my salary.
I refused the job. Have spent a week feeling angry, pissed off, uptight and then I remembered the words of a hotel owner I had asked advice of, six months a go.
Amanda if you work in the hotel, its poorly paid and you are better off working for yourself.
Would love to be setting up my cafe, but we have no money for infrastructure; there are no grants available at present and we can't take out a loan until the land issue has been signed over to the clan and we get a signed lease.
I am so sick of travelling back and forth to Fiji. I sooooooo want a little shack for us to live in, but I never have enough money to build it. I so want to spend time with Chita having fun, but we never have enough money to do much....
I love the climate, the people and the lifestyle, but as a kavalagi I need a white girl's job to stay. I need to support Chita. His mum. Provide weekly groceries for his mum's house. Slowly help Chita with infrastructure such as a fridge, table and chairs, lighting, water pipes and our own electricity source. Its so hard, because everything takes soooooooo long.
I am going to apply for a job at an International school and hopefully there are vacancies. I know they pay their staff appropriate wages. I can then help Chita crank up the business so he is making money and so am I. Carrying the load now for two years has been tough.
I feel sometimes that we are not moving ahead. Maybe its just coz we are not moving ahead fast...... a results orientated approach to Fiji is doomed to frustration.
I sooooo want to be there. I sooo need a good job, with a reasonable pay. Any ideas anyone?
I love Fiji, but it also drives me nuts at the same time. Phylis says
'At least you know you are alive in Fiji; its never dull!'

Fiji One Minute Tassie the next!

2007-05-09T23:50:00.000-07:00

The last three weeks have been exciting, exhilerating, knackering and a buzz. Opening the Beach Bure Bar was strategically engineered by me. I organised a family meeting with Chita's brother Joe and wife Natalie. I suggested we get the milk bar open and offered some money which was matched by them. It was a good feeling.
I didn't waste a minute. I went to Sigatoka by van to organise locks for all the windows and doors of the Beach Bure Bar. I also did a price check on a couple of supermarkets. I have a loyalty card with MH supermarkets and ended up putting in a quote for supplies from Shop and Save. They offered a miniscule discount. There is no competition in Fiji, little or no variety and you pay what they say.
The following Monday I took the van yet again along the coastal road to Sigatoka, with a big list. I bought stock and caught a taxi, a supreme indulgence back. Chita and Abo were busy putting in shelves and attaching locks. I wanted to drop it all off at the shop but the locks weren't finished so I took it all to his mother's house.
The next day was the opening. I had met a gorgeous Aussie chick, Megan, who just so happens to be a visual merchandiser. Could she help? But of course. Chita piled everything into a taxi and sent it to the shop. We arrived to find he had stacked and packed as best as he could, but creating an atmosphere was Megan's forte.
Joe, Chita's brother emerged saying 'Amanda we can't open the shop until the minister has conducted a blessing"
'Sure, no problem, gives us more time to set up'
I had spoken to his mum that morning and suggested two things to bake, however, she was determined to make pie, coconut scones and chocolate cake... I gave up. 'Whatever makes you feel a part of the celebration,' I thought.
A couple of hours later I looked around and could not find Chita. He was nowhere to be found and no one knew where he was. I trekked off down the road towards the village and reached his mother's house, walked in the front door, and found him sitting on the side of the bed, looking pale and saying " I don't feel well, I have a headache'.
I knew why he was feeling so bad, he'd stayed up all night watching dvd's rather than letting his fears creep into his sleep.
Is it going to work?' were his last words to me before I closed my eyes.
I headed back to the shop and about an hour later, I noticed the minister storming up the road, coat flapping, bible clutched in his hot little hand.
I greeted him and shook his hand firmly,'Where's Chita? Where is everyone? I was booked for eleven o'clock!
Chita was nowhere to be seen. I ran down the road, to the house, and found him lying back reading a New Idea..... He had no intention of being at the blessing for his own shop, 'Joe's there isn't he?'
I couldn't believe it.
This is embarassing. You need to come and come now. I did my bossy school teacher and he rolled his eyes at me.
You go, and I will follow.
No bloody way. You are going in front of me.
He used every evasion tactic in the book to avoid moving. He picked up a tank top instead of a shirt. At all formal occasions Fijians, were perfectly ironed shirts and sulus. Then he grabbed a dirty t-shirt and put it on inside out. His shorts were filthy. He then bent down slowly searching for his boots.
No boots, your flip flops are over there.
I was semi volcanic. He eased himself off the bed and took the long way out of the house, stopping to say 'bula' to his sister-in-law.
Come on! Get moving! I semi-screeched.
He loitered at the bus stop talking to potential passengers and as I shot a glance up the road, I realised the deck was full and the minister had started...
Shit!
Between clenched teeth I muttered 'If you don't get moving, I will push you up the road myself!'
A cheeky sly grin in my direction from him and a mega shove from me sent him reeling in the right direction.
He turned to me saying 'Hey! What are you doing?'
Its already started and we aren't even there' I bleated.
We arrive at the deck to see everyone seated facing the sea. His brothers are in freshly pressed, brightly coloured shirts with tailored sulus. Chita sits down beside them (in filthy shorts and a t-shirt) and I flee to the doorway of the shop.
The minister is in the middle of welcoming our first customers, locals from the Naviti and Maui Bay. He is so happy to see everyone together.
What a proud moment for the village.
'A milk bar which will support the local village, work with it its next door neighbour the dive shop and create jobs for the village.'
He then began directing comments at Chita in Fijian along the lines of:
'This is a great opportunity for you. Don't waste it. Let the village be proud of you.
You can be a role model for the young boys of the village, showing them that hard work brings its rewards.'
You can help stop the kava drinking at all hours, the boys of the village wandering around without anything to do, and stop the marijuana smoking.
Lucky it was just family at this stage.
Inside the shop Megan and I were busy making signs to let people know the Beach Bure Bar was open. Megan did a fantastic job of setting up the dry goods and then helping create a counter full of colour to keep everyone's eyes roaming around the shop.
I could hear the kava clapping and realised that it would take all day, so Megan and I could relax, get the shop set up, while people started rolling in to join the celebration.
I could not believe how everyone knew. The bush telegraph is fast. All the elders from the village, and family members. In the afternoon people started appearing from up and down the Coral Coast.
The kava clapping continued until 11 pm that night.
I knew how much everyone wanted this business to work. It was only Chita's self doubt stopping him. His family were so proud. Everyone wished him well, over and over again, all day and all night.
Couldn't wait for everyone to leave so we could talk about it.
Are you happy I got the bar open?
Yes.
Did you have any idea that all these people would come to wish you well?
No.
We cuddled up on the mat, and he whispered in my ear
'You're an amazing woman you know!
It made the anxiety and stress I had been through worthwhile. I have realised that when times get tough for him, his personal response is flight. My own reaction is the complete opposite - Fight.
Two weeks later I was in a position where I had to stand up for what I believed in and boy did it cause a quiet tense situation in the Tubuna household. Fijians never raise their voice, so if they want to let you know you have done something wrong, you get the silent treatment.... not pleasant at all.
It all started the day, Joe and Chita got carried away with a Fijian idea on promoting the business. A group of van drivers from the Hideaway resort appeared on the Tuesday morning wanting cups of tea and buns.
Can we give them for free?
Yes. If you think they are going to bring us business.
They came, they drank, they left.
However, the next day Joe had come up with the brilliant idea of wooing them back with kava( talk about overkill). At all family meetings I had stated that kava was banned from the deck. We are trying to create a family atmosphere, where mums, kids and family can come. If there is kava; it becomes mens business and no one will visit the shop. I remember heads nodding in agreement.
I rock up to the shop with the daily baking - a tray of pizza, banana breads and coconut scones, as well as a loaves of crusty bread and my now famous fruit loaf. Chita is in the doorway.
I ask him what is going on and he just shakes his head. Its Joe's idea!
I sit in the shop, while a group of men begin a kava session that starts at 11 am and around 4 pm when I have made the grand total of $17.50 for day. I am explosive.
I wait until the kava bowl, in this case a large green plastic bucket that I use to bring water for the kettle, is empty and I grab it.
I am sorry boys, but this is business. Kava and business do not go together. I am going to have to ask you to move.
Chita saw me, knew I meant business and started clearing an area beside the deck, on the beach.
Joe emerges through the doorway and I give him a serve.
I am sorry Joe, I have spoken to these gentlemen and told them its time to move. I need room for customers to drink tea and coffee.
He turned tail and the guests all disappeared in silence.
Chita appears in the doorway with a full bucket of kava and I grab it.
Sorry, no more kava on the deck.
Hey what are you doing?
He turned to talk to Joe, returning to spit at me- I am going with them.
Interestingly enough the village has very strict rules- no kava drinking during the day. Why the bloody hell did Joe think he could get away with it on the deck? I felt vindicated.
However, as I sat at the counter alone, by myself and no one else around, I kept thinking 'Shit. What have I done!'
No Fijian woman ever stands up to a man- that's shaming her partner. No woman stands up to the elder brothers of the Tubuna family. I knew I would suffer the consequences but I needed to distinguish between business and village life. To make the business work, we have to run it differently.
I sat there, in silence, with a quivering lip, until a party of kids came to buy snacks and lolly pops. A couple of ladies walking home dropped in to buy bread and then food started disappearing.
Chita's mum appeared and had a cup of tea. She didn't say anything other than
'Amanda are you okay?'
Yep.
Chita reappears forty minutes later.
Are you coming to Fabi's for dinner?
Yes. He smiles and its all forgotten apparently.
We head off to dinner and I vent to Fabi. Maybe you shouldn't be going home. You know that kerikeri (Fijian concept of share and care though giving) is too strong here. If someone asks for help you have to give it.
I turned to Chita and said 'Maybe I should stay! He nods in agreement.
Its a bit early for you to leave Amanda.
Yes I know. I don't want to go, but funds are running out and I can't live on fresh air. I can't live in his mother's house without contributing food in my weekly shop.
I can't go anywhere and do anything without a bus fare or a fare for the van.
If I can change my flight I can stay a couple of weeks. I really want to go home for mum's 70th birthday.
Chita and I have discussed it a lot, and he wants me to go...
I make my mind up to stay and hold the fort.
The next morning I get up and head into the kitchen. The air is frosty, unusual considering it was around 27 degrees. His mother doesn't speak but moves around doing stuff, but not baking.
I sit down to a cup of coffee and she comes and sits beside me.
Amanda you know I love you as a daughter. You know I speak straight to all my family.
Yes.
I need to talk to you about yesterday.
Okay.
You did a terrible thing!
What!
You shamed the family.
I sighed and listened. When she had finished I replied' I know what I did was wrong if it had taken place in the village, but this is business and we ca't have kava drinking on the deck; we will have no customers.'
Wage is very angry.
I had received the wrath of the smouldering older brother. Things were not looking good.
We are having a family meeting tonight. Ominous.
I walk up to the cafe and Chita is smiling saying'bula'. He disappears to the village and returns saying
'My brothers aren't talking to me. What are we going to do? Are you going to go back to Australia?"
No way. I have got this business started I am going to fight for what I believe in, even if it transgresses the Fijian code of conduct.
The remainder of the day disappeared in cups of tea and coffee, happy chats, a quick swim and then I nicked off to check if I could change my flight.
Fuck. I made the change of Pacific Blue, but my credit card was rejected.
I checked my balance to see if I could make a payment.
Yes, but not enough.
It was a defining moment. I have to go home. I have no money left.
Phyllis offered me a tea, saying you know things will fall a part while you are away. The only one who can make this business work is you. You have to be here, to make it work.
I understand all that, but at the level we had started the business - as a milk bar selling goods the locals want,and making cups of tea, coffee and juice. It was all completely manageable.
I was torn in two. My business brain saying 'stay, it all will go to...' my heart going' no, I don't want to leave' my logical brain winning out saying' darling, you have no choice, without funds you cannot stay'.
My turmoil was interrupted by the mobile phone ringing.
Everyone is waiting for you.
I am coming.
You can walk me down.
No you can do this by yourself.
No, you are my partner and you are coming...
I walk down the hill, find him swinging in the hammock with the opening line of
'If you were a Fijian girl you would have been beaten and chased out of the village'
Lucky I am not Fijian was my retort.
You go, I need to close up the shop.
I head towards the village, dragging each foot in front of the other, rehearsing my speech for the family meeting.
I am rock solid on my actions, but I am unsure of how THE FAMILY are going to respond.
I walk into the house and Natalie calls out
Amanda you must be hungry, have some soup NENE( Chita's mum) has made.
I sit there, trying to sip soup, my guts churning as I glance around and realise that we have a very formal seating arrangement for this evening.
Joe is sitting halfway down the room, Natalie and the kids are sitting in women's zone close to the door, and I am lurking behind them, seated at the table.
Where's Chita?
Its a daily catch cry!
Coming is my response.
Chita mosies on in, through the kitchen, gives me a quick glance and then goes and sits by his brother.
I sit down on the floor beside the ladies, with my back to the couch for support and the family meeting begins with
'amanda what do you want to say? from Chita.
I am startled and my words come tripping over themselves
Well, first of all, Joe I would like to say sorry for my actions. I did not intend to hurt you feelings, shame the family or make you angry. If you wish to serve kava to potential clients, we need to set up an area. The deck is however off limits. Its a place for customers to come and have coffee and tea.
He turns to me
'I accept your apology'.
I am shocked.
Is there anything else you wish to say. I blurted out all my business concerns and then its Natalie's turn.
Her response is telling.
I argued with Joe for months about opening this cafe. I knew this was going to happen.
What were you two thinking? You are always looking after everyone else. Why is it that we are always the ones to buy food and kava for every occasion. No one buys it for us. Why do you two have to be at around every kava bowl...
I knew this wasn't going to work.
An ally at last.
If Amanda hadn't said what she said, I was going to give you both a kick up the bum.
What were you thinking?
She confronts Joe. He is silent.
She confronts Chita. Do you hear me? Do you understand?
He nods and is silent.
The meeting ends positively for me, but Chita can't resist a serve in my direction - You were disrespectful to my culture Amanda.
Bull shit. This is business, not the village.
I wake up with a sick feeling in my stomach. If I can't change my flight I am going to have to go.
I head up the hill to use the internet at Phyllis' house.
No, I can't change my flight.
I walk towards the deck, tears flowing.
Chita I have to go. I don't want to but I have to.
I understand. Go and pack.
I drip down to the village, knocking on Megan's door for a quick girl chat, before I go.
You are doing the right thing Amanda. Chita is supremely capable.
Encouraging words.
Chita reappears, saying 'Lets' go to Nadi for the night.'
I will tell the family.
He tells Joe who goes to mind the shop and then his mum.
You are leaving Amanda? questions Nene.
I nod.
I grab clothes from the line, pack stuff into two bags - things to stay under Nene's bed and things to take with me.
Cindy,a local Australian,appears returning a pizza tray and offering a lift to the airport in a van.
I say 'yes'
Nene comes and sits beside me on the couch. We both cry and hug.
I am going to miss you. You have been so good to the family Amanda
I am bereft, gulping back sobs and trying to be strong.
I ring everyone to let them know I am leaving. Its a shock for all.
Phyllis appears in the RAV 4 wrapped in a lime sulu, to give me a hug.
Chita and I both collapse in his mum's room until transport arrives.
In the van on the way to Nadi, Victor rings, I just hand the phone to Chita and he answers. I just couldn't talk.
One night in Nadi with my beloved and its Tassie here I come!

Easy like Sunday Morning!

2007-04-21T14:59:00.000-07:00

Am back in the village after two months in a fabulous house built on the peak of a hill with a 180 degree view of the lagoon, the breakers and the never ending ocean. Chita and I have enjoyed the peace and quiet and doing our own thing.
I have been in baking frenzy, testing sour dough bread, white bread, buns, fruit brioche, chocolate brioche and pizza. Have had nods of approval from all. I have been able to make a crunchy bread in a humid tropical climate. It does not stay crunchy mind you, but fresh from the oven,deliciously hot, drenched in butter I am reminded of the breads I used to eat in Europe.
Just the incidentals of daily life, take all day here. Going shopping in Sigakatoka takes half a day, washing takes an eon, walking down to the local petrol station for kerosene for the stove takes a couple of hours, and just getting out of bed and having breakfast takes a long time. Its why I am here, to slow down my overactive high achieving brain and try and restore a balance. I have had a struggle here as everything takes so long, communication is intermittent and time passes while the documents for the lease on the cafe sit on Chita's brother Joe's kitchen bench in Suva for two months.....
By accident I rang Natalie, Joe's wife to find out if anything was moving. I had been told quietly and gently that getting the lease signed was family business and just to be patient. I am a very patient person, but Fiji tests my endurance. I discovered that Vilimone, who I met by accident in Suva had assisted Joe to get Isoa to sign the lease. He has been a life saver. He is part of the new special investigations team into anti corruption. Schooled in New Zealand, he bridges Fijian tradition and western sophistication. He continually tells me that Fijians don't have confidence in their abilities, they have no self belief that they can change their worlds, because the Fijian village culture is ruled by the village elders, and Chita being the fourth son, must do their bidding. Fear of the unknown is prevalent.
Found out to my delight that the lease is signed, and the business registered but up for renewal we can finally open.
I called a family meeting and offered $200 to set up the milk bar with stock, and Joe has matched it. We made a list together of things to sell, making our cafe a kind of Seven Eleven for the village, which will bring good will. What will help us make money is the food I am going to make - bread, buns, biscuits, cakes, and pizza.
We are also going to offer one dish a day until we start making money.
I have also found out from Natalie, who is marketing manager at the Naviti resort that they don't make their own bread and buy it from Sigatoka everyday which is forty minutes away and we are five.
I can't believe we are finally going to start and everyone agrees. Chita rushed off yesterday to ask Abo, our favourite builder to come and build the shelves on Monday.
I went into Sigatoka to do a price check on items to sell. I went into a supermarket called Shop and Save and left a list, which will hopefully be priced up with a discounted price for our shop. I will compare them on Monday. Here the Indians are a cunning bunch and you have to keep your wits about you.
Leaving the peace and tranquility of Victor's house was bitter sweet for me. I am back in the village and in trouble the first day, for striding across the village green in shorts without a sulu. Buggar. I am sleeping on the matrimonial bed, which is as hard as a rock, and seems to have a plank down the middle which is causing back ache and the pillows are rockettes so I end up with a crick in my neck. Oh for the tontine pillows from Oz, I brought with me for Victor...
Its been non stop rain for the last eight days and it definitely affects the mood. I have even ended up with a sniffle while Fijians around me are suffering congested chests, and colds. Today for the first time, the sky is clear and the waves are gently lapping against the reef, instead of the pounding waves of the last week or so. I woke up this morning to coffee and Nene ( chita's mum's) custard pie, without the custard, as she had run out. 'It doesn't matter darling' she says. I quickly wrap my sulu( sarong) around my hips and stroll up to the beach bure bar. The tide is high and I take a refreshing dip before hitting the computer. Being Sunday the internet is running at half pace so I have a good chance of getting this blog done and checking my emails.
Tomorrow will be a busy day, into Sigatoka early to shop, baking in the afternoon, and Monday typing price lists and signs for the shop. Then Tuesday we open. Yippee!!
Between Chita and me there is love and understanding but we are still trying to bridge Fijian and European culture. We have had some spectacular spats. A Fijian raising his voice is not done. My Irish grandmother cannot be contained in me. I suppose we both wish we could instantly understand each other's needs but it is not so.
Fijians live each day as it comes. No planning for tomorrow. What I have to eat today, I eat it all. What I have to drink today I share and drink it all. What money I have today, I spend. If we have an argument Chita wipes it out of his mind, and I am the elephant who doesn't forget. I am learning to wipe off the stretching that occurs daily.
I have been talking about the business for two years now, and thought he had the initiative to start but he cannot. Joe is exactly the same. I am the driving force on this boat. Chita is a great helper so we will get there.
I can extend my visa for two months and get this show on the road. The only sacrifice is ending up with no reserved savings and missing my mum's seventieth birthday and a return flight and even money to spend on her birthday dinner is out of the question. I had the good fortune in Suva last weekend to go to an Indian bazaar and buy 8 cushion covers brightly coloured and glittering for $20!! My mother always says to change a room, start with the cushion covers...
Winter here is still warm,May is on its way with moli(thick green skinned moli) and sunshine so I am happy to stay....
The Beach Bure bar will be open for business on Tuesday!!! Yippee!

Bainimarama and me

2007-03-29T20:13:00.000-07:00

Was having a tough week with the Beach Bure Bar project, trying to coordinate two brothers for a meeting to discuss how we are going to get the lease. A cousin of Chita's who is in a special investigations unit with the government, offered me some advice and even prepared the papers for Joe, (Chita's brother) over a month a go, to present to the landowner. Where were they? Sitting on the kitchen bench and being given a wide berth.
I needed time out so I went to Suva for the afternoon and found myself having a coffee and a chat with Vili. He has lived in New Zealand so he can appreciate the frustrations I have been succumbing to. However, in Fiji, all is not lost. He told me that Fijians fear change. They do not believe in themselves to instigate change. Halleluiah! Am I hearing you brother! It explains a lot. Fijians don't like conflict. They don't like saying no, so they omit,evade and avoid at all costs. It drives me nuts.
Anyhow, he asked me if I had a laptop. I said 'Yes, but its back in Votua. Do you need something typed? I am a fast typer.'
Within minutes I had half the special investigations team in Phyllis, an American's car, and they were sorting out her land and business issues for free on the way down to the Coral Coast.
The report to be typed is called 'Collusion in High Places' and addresses the issues of corruption by an elite handful who have made a packet out of Fiji. One of my friend's has been involved in a land dispute and was wrongfully deported two months a go, not by the Immigration department but by the Resort which did not like his imput. It would make a good movie. He was arrested on a Friday evening around 6 pm and was immediately handcuffed. No one showed him ID. His colleague had enough time to throw a bag of stuff together and he was whisked away to Suva for a night. One of his captors was a local policeman. Handsomely paid no doubt. Anyhow, the next day, his captors brought kava and offered him a bowl as an apology for taking him. He was not allowed access to a telephone. He was taken to the airport terminal and the ticket was in an envelope marked with the name of the resort..... Jesus.
Anyhow, his testimony is evidence for this report on corruption in high places and explains the methods used by foreign investors, corrupt government ministers and even corrupt lawyers to railroad the local landowners, pay them a pittance and reap huge financial rewards.
My heart was in my mouth as I read it. My blood boiled over occasionally as I was typing and I had to stop and let out an expletive or two. Vili sat beside me writing as I was typing and then read it out loud as I typed away. It was an exhilerating experience. Not only was I helping a friend, but I was one step away from the commodore, as this report should have been presented to parliament this week.
It feel good to be doing something that is real. I have been chasing my tail for the last month trying to get the Beach Bure Bar on the road and nothing. I also need to state that in the last month we have had a group wedding six or seven couples from the village, marrying on the same day. In Fiji you have a civil ceremony and when you can afford it you hold the village wedding. A group wedding makes economic sense at this time, when many have no jobs. The preparations go on for a week. Then old aunty who was 92 died in her bed on a Saturday morning. Another week of preparations, with much kava, and much boy talk; the women are left at home. Then there are visits from the University of the South Pacific to discuss a water project. Then Chita is on the Korolevu Wai ( water) committee and has a job checking the meter on a daily basis. Then there is the plantation to be cleared, the beach to be raked, the grass outside the beach bure bar to be cut and before you know it a month has gone by...
I have been working as a tutor to two Australian couples whose children are being home schooled. Have just found out today that one of the families has bought a farm and is returning to Albury so my services are no longer required.
The last month has been food for thought. Business here is a long slow process. My idea of getting the cafe open and starting a woodfired oven have not happened. I need a job to stay. I keep applying but they have to be offered to Fijians first or the salary scale is too low and most businesses think I would not be interested. It looks like I might have to come back to Australia for an injection of good food, hot water, clean clothes, and maybe extra cash in my pocket. Its not what I wanted, but money leaches from my pocket here.
There are family bills to be contributed to, family celebrations to be contributed to, weekly food bill and transport.
I finally got Joe's wife Natalie to agree to bring him to Amelia, the mother's house for a meeting on Tuesday. The day dawned and we had visitors from USP at the house so I was busy cooking and told Chita to send a message and ask to postpone it as reception when it rains is not great. He gets a call around 8.30 asking for our whereabouts. Wednesday night, he turns to me, 'are we still going down to see Joe?' of course we bloody are, I felt like saying but just nodded. We arrive at the house to find that there has been no water for three days, so Natalie and Joe had taken their smelly nephew back to the hotel for a bath. Chita disappears for a smoke and I wait. 8.00 Joe and Natalie arrive. No sign of Chita. I ring him and tell him to come. Sometimes my patience is sorely tested.
We sit down for the meeting and Natalie basically lets the boys have it. It was a mistake to build the cafe there without a lease. We agreed to set up a milk bar initially with funds from Chita's superannuation. Joe and Chita both agreed to take Uncle and go and see the landowner to see if we can get the lease papers signed. It was supposed to be the next day. Yes Amanda, we are going.
I send Chita a text saying' hope it goes well'. I ring him after work only to discover the meeting was postponed because of an Easter ritual - fasting from four am to 4 p.m. I could roll my eyes and curse, but by now I am used to it.
Last night after dinner Chita went down to the village again to discuss the strategy for getting Isoa to sign. I have not seen him today yet. There is a fifty fifty chance it may have happened. I will wait until I hear.
Back to me. I am losing weight from walking up and down a steep hill everyday. I am feeling fit. I am loving not wearing tight fitting clothes. I am loving cooking and baking.
I just get lonely sometimes and miss my girlfriends. When you live with all guys, they are a sometimes talkative and sometimes very quiet lot. Chita talks to Joe in Fijian. If its a long conversation its either about rugby or fishing or farming.
I am in Suva for the weekend to escape the village and be alone with my man. He will stay up late of course to watch the HongKong 7's and I will wander around the shops, have a coffee and cake somewhere and do girlie things.

Fiji Time!

2007-03-15T18:35:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it has been nearly two weeks since I wrote my last blog. In Australia I was on the computer everyday and checking my emails several times a day. Welcome to Fiji where internet access is limited, slow, and probably not working. I have tried to use the hotel's email but a virus got into the system this week. A hillside neighbour has wireless and it only functions early in the morning or late at night. If I go into Suva or Sigatoka I have to pay heaps.
I have been trying to get things moving with the business but I am being hampered by family hierachy, family priorities and Chita's resistance to get moving. We have a potential land dispute on our hands which may seem scary for Australians but is every day life now in the cleaned up Fiji. I would like to get a lease signed by the landowner,however, he does not read or write and does not trust paper. He also prefers to keep his hand out constantly and expects to be helped. I don't want to go full hog into the cafe and find we are paying rent and gifts to keep going. We need a few grand to open but without a lease we can't get a bank loan. Grants are available from the government but that is also a go slow area as the budget was only released last week.
Chita is pushing me to quit even trying and just head back to Australia and take him with me. This is something I can't think about. I am an A type personality. I came to do a job and I am going to do my darndest to get it happening. I optimistically thought I would have everything researched and ready. Builders finishing off and we would be earning an income within six months. Hmmmm.
The reality has hit. I need to get a job. The economy is depressed and not much is being advertised in the paper. What is on offer will be paid Fiji wages. At this point I don't really mind, as any sort of cash will do... I am slowly becoming Fijian. I applied for a job with the Australian government as a small business advisor. I had my interview and was told my cv was exceptional and I was more than capable of doing the job, however it was given to a Fijian..... Frustrating. The salary was $27,000 Aust which is a middle income wage here...
Am also trying to liaise with the family. I need to get a meeting organised with the family and the landowner. I have one of the advisors for the anti- corruption board on side offering to act as a mediator. However, the family are resisting. It is their land which was signed over to this landowner by a trick. It is not theirs on paper, but to the village, yes. That is enough for them but not enough for me.
I have to be careful as women do not have all that much say. It has to go through the head of the family or the eldest brother. Chita's eldest brother is never around so I am pushing for Joe to act.
In the meantime my funds are disappearing and my desire to get a job, earn some cash and have some choices about what to do on weekends is high. I did not come to Fiji to be a housegirl and cook and clean. I need a project. Anyone got anything for me? I am desperate.
Chita and I are getting on well. Fijian relationships between men and women are different to us. They don't talk much, and fulfil clearly understood roles. I find that the Fijian male has a full life, of meetings, family functions and rugby, whereas the women are at home, or if they work in the hotels, they are out partying and picking up. I fall into neither category. I love cooking and being a homemaker but I also miss interesting and stimulating female company. Last night I wanted to visit a neighbour and discovered the torch was missing. I couldn't head down the hill in the rain without one, as I would end up sliding down the hill on my ample backside. Although, weeks of going up and down the steep hill, has tightened up my gluteus maximus.
Its an interesting plight I face. A career girl for so long and now I am in limited circumstances. I understand now why Fijian girls have babies. It gives you something to do. Have told Chita, a baby could be my new project... I try and give myself treats - a frozen yoghurt once a week at a Hawaian ice cream parlour in Pacific Harbour. I walk down the beach and end up having chats with the ladies at the Handicraft. I chat to Melania,who was the first ever policewoman in Fiji. We talked about a Fijian pumpkin dessert she is going to show me how to make.
I am trying to keep fit. I am trying to be positive. I am trying. Every other day, I give it all up, and give in to Fiji Time. I forget about deadlines and targets and go with the flow. I sit on the bus daydreaming. I chat to the van or taxi drivers about life, I walk for no reason anywhere. I read the paper everyday and keep up with Fijian affairs. I have an afternoon nap. I feel great afterwards and cook and clean with gusto. I find australian dvd's to listen to aussie accents and thoroughly enjoyed watching Jindabyne on my own yesterday afternoon.
With Chita, its the everyday that is the glue between us. I am less likely to have a hissy fit these days, as I have a better understanding of Fijian culture. Do I have a place here? Can I make a valuable contribution? Will I always be a European or kavalagi and never a kaiviti ( local)....
I think, ponder, let go....

I try and make contact with any female in the vicinity - a sixty year old American ex alcoholic who has taken up AA in Fiji with a vengeance, a sweet Christian American girl who lives in Lautoka and has been a missionary for eight years, An Italian who smokes too much dope and accidentally gave part of a cookie to her two year old son; Yes I will talk to anyone...
I visit Chita's mum once a week and fill her in on a week's worth of gossip. I contribute by paying for a fare for her somewhere, buy washing powder or food, and help with the electricity bill. In Fiji its care and share. I like this aspect very much.

Funiculi Funicula!

2007-03-01T16:58:00.000-08:00

Sorry I haven't written for a while, life has been hectic and access to the internet is limited for me. Life out of the village up on the hill in a European's house with running water (hot and cold) and electricity even though I keep getting zapped when I turn the switch hanging out of the wall in the kitchen is closer to my concept of normal. We have even set up Village 6 cinemas with dvd's borrowed from a dvd addict here and a projector with screen and speakers to watch movies every night. No tv, so we listen to the radio.
Have just about hit the point of frustration where I need to sign up for a course of Fijian. It is spoken 24/7 around me and I know less than fifty words. I miss out on lots of conversation and being the chatty social person I am, that is frustration absolute. I have discovered the Alliance Francaise does Fijian lessons. So if I get this job, organise my own work permit and start getting paid something closer to a normal salary, I should be able to sign up.
Chita's brother's wife is having twins. According to Fijian tradition, the children of the oldest son must be honoured with gifts. I rustled up $40 to buy kerosene. I don't have a work permit so Chita is paranoid that one of the jealous villagers will dob me in to Immigration and I will be deported. We already have one friend who was deported a couple of weeks a go for being involved in a land dispute. I therefore was not invited to the ceremony on Friday night. On Saturday morning I dropped into the village and was invited for dinner, but wasn't feeling well. On Sunday there seemed to be more kava happening. I blew a head gasket. I did not come to Fiji to sit alone everynight. I am not here to be just a house girl and cook. Had a huge discussion with Chita and we have worked out our frustrations. Me pushing my way into his life, being a kavalagi who have a history of taking over ( the British colonization of Fiji) and a discussion of whether we have a future or not.
It was a chance for me to get my personal frustrations off my chest. I am supporting the household, doing all the cooking and working. I do not even get quality time with my beloved. He is too busy fulfilling obligations to the village. I did not realise that when you fall for a Fijian guy you also get a whole village as well.
A friend from Suva, told me once " You can take the boy out of the village, but you can't take the village out of the boy"
Didn't know what that meant until now. I have applied for a job, got an interview on Wednesday and hopefully will know future directions.
This week has been a group wedding in the village. Six or seven couples who have had a civil ceremony, have children even, but need to have a church wedding. It was the talk of the coast. I found out at 10 pm on Sunday night that Chita was best man for one of the couples and I knew nothing about it. I have a series of moments where I take deep breaths and try to remain calm. So Monday Chita was off to Sigatoka to sign the forms for the civil ceremony for one couple who hadn't done it. Thursday was the wedding. I arrived at the end of the wedding ceremony in the Methodist church and soaked up the fabulous male choir. I then went back to Chita's mums house and met one of the housekeeper's from the Pearl, who I see everyday. We are related. As Chita's future spouse apparently, everyone works out their relationship to me. Pana calls me sister in law, and Asenaca calls me cousin.
I spent Wednesday afternoon having a Betty Crocker bake off and making bread. I made white loaves, two fruit loaves and banana bread which instantly disappeared.
Last night Chita appears around 6 pm kava doped, showers then disappears to the village for another bash. Home around 9 pm to devour food, as he has not eaten all day. He has a pretty bad cold that started a week or so a go and funnily enough is still lingering.
I had to get up at 6 am this morning. Walk down the hill. Walk 30 minutes along the road to Korolevu, then cross the bridge, step down onto the beach, follow the curve of the bay at full tide, up to my knees in salt water and waded around the beach to the Warwick Hotel, to get some money out of the ATM. I then went to the souvenir shopt to buy a paper to change a $20 so I could get $4 exactly for my van fare to Pacific Harbour. All this before 8 am.
I sat outside the Warwick on a stone wall and had the good fortune to be picked up by an airconditioned car. Deluxe. He turned the air conditioning up so I could cool down and my beetroot features could return to normal. All for the princely price of $4. Oh how my life has changed.
Am gathering a set of dvd's for a weekend of viewing if it rains. If it is as gloriously sunny as it was yesterday I will be at the beach, swimming, snorkelling and strolling.

On again Off again

2007-02-08T17:00:00.000-08:00

Had a family meeting last night and discussed the opening of the cafe. Yes it is going to happen. Chita and I have had chats. So much energy and effort has gone into the building, that it seems pointless not to get it going and get something in return for our efforts.
I am dealing with a culture which has no concept of time. Things are said to me and I sit here wondering whether they mean today, tomorrow, never or maybe. Its been a frustrating time. I have given Chita an ultimatum ( which means absolutely nothing to him but everything to me) to get the cafe open as a small milkbar as soon as possible.
I have had a win. In Suva last week I meet a cousin who is on the anti corruption board and is also going to advise me on how to get a work permit. Its who you know here.
I spoke to Natalie, who works at the Naviti Hotel, and is Joe (Chita's brothers' wife) about what we can do to push these men forward. She is going to get me contact details for bricks, a vocational unit in Suva that makes cheap chairs and tables, and I am somehow going to get the electricity and water on by the end of February.
I have decided that too much information is not good for a Fijian male. They process one thing at a time and sit on that until its done. It drives me nuts but that's the way it is.
I have now developed the method of sneakily planning, organising and networking quietly and will present everything I have done as a fait accomplis.
I need a return on my investment, I can show him how to start budgeting and saving money. What a challenge!
Its not that they don't want to but somehow daily life gets in the way. Its been a challenging, frustrating and culturally different experience for me.
Living here has developed a gentle rhythm and I am up at 6 or 6.30 at the latest everyday. I am eating simply, exercising everyday and never lonely. I came here to find a way to bridge two cultures and make a business and relationship work. A huge challenge and we are still talking to each other so something must be going right.
I will keep you posted.

Unexpected circumstances!

2007-02-05T16:51:00.000-08:00

Last week was challenging to say the least.We had a huge fight. Its always over something trivial which has an underlying serious significance. A funeral took place in the village over the last week, revealed to me by Chita as we walked back to village and he is berating me yet again for my state of dress. I had a sulu and a tank top, which in seemingly 40 + degrees is the very least, but my bare arms were offending all and sundry. He told me off in front of his close friend Joe, whose downcast eyes indicated his embarassment. I entered the house and let fly.
My response was:
I have just walked past your two aunties, both bare armed and I am not going to put up with your controlling behaviour anymore.
Chita storms off to have a bath, then returns and apologises, but when I realised the underlying pressure upon him, I can understand why he has been so paranoid. The land on which our cafe is built is Chita's family land. However, some years a go (time is always unclear in Fiji) the land was signed over to another family - the usurpers. Unfortunately the current Mayor of the village ( an usurper) is collaborating with one or some of the village elders to basically graft whatever he can. Money for a water project has disappeared, the village ownership of Mike's Dives has somehow mysteriously been signed over to him, he received payment for lease of a house to an American, and no documentation exists and he has asked again for the full amount, and another American marine biologist has been threatened with payments to the usurping landowner but luckily his paperwork does exist and cannot be touched. This blackmailing, bullying, constantly asking for money, and no accountability is unfortunately the new Fiji. Its the old Fiji that has developed a corrupt culture which has forgotten its 'share and care' mentality and basically rips off both the ignorant and unaware indiginous people as well as the kavalagi.
I have had a week of being the Fijian 'wife' who has to cook for three males: Pele, Walai and Chita every night, and make interesting meals from 2-3 ingredients.I have started the budget so its bottom of the fridge meals for big eaters this week.
Chita's mum Melia has gone to Nabutini to be with Chita's sister who has just had a baby. I had a hire car two weeks a go so I took Melia into the hospital and met Lasaro the new edition to the Tubuna household. He's a creamy caffe latte colour and very alert.
The funeral took over the life of the village. I came home to find the men of the village carrying poles and sheets of tin to construct a room on the village green. From the first night, the clanging sound of the kava being pounded rang in my ears. I cooked dinner on Tuesday night, and had just sat down with Chita to eat, when the door opened and a stream of a dozen or so Fijian men poured in.
ring your food and sit on the floor and eat.
I took one look and escaped to the bedroom, Chita pulling an extension cord behind me so I could watch a dvd. I was relegated to the bedroom. I did not even have time to get my chicken soup. I fell asleep and woke up around 6 am to see Chita whispering
'If you want a coffee, better go and make one, while everyone is still asleep'
I tiptoed around the sea of sleeping males, and sat on the backstep drinking. Had no idea what had gone on, what was going on, and when I asked Chita, he replied
'I will tell you later.'
I got a message from a friendly marine biologist asking me for a lunch of pasta and I flew up the hill, ravenous, and wanting to find out what had gone on. Apparently, as Chita is the youngest son, he can be called by one of the elders to man the kava bowl all night; which he did. One of his uncles had told him that ' a group would be sleeping in the house' and everyone obeys the Fijian hierarchy without question.
Being a European (anyone who is not Fijian)means being overcharged on a daily basis. I have had the frustrating experience of catching vans and buses to my job in Pacific Harbour everyday for a week. I have realised that the only way to not be ripped off, is to basically work out what I am prepared to pay, and go to the bank, and change $40 Fijian dollars into $2 notes so that I am ready for the daily onslaught. If I have no change I get charged $5 instead of $4. I spend $40 a week on transport just to get to work and back and its more than I spent on petrol back in Australia for a week.
Its been a big week of making some serious decisions. I came here all fired up to set up a woodfired bakery and make pizza, pane, biscotti and torte for eager tourists wanting fresh food, and unfortunately our business in its current state of 'no lease' will fall victim to constant handouts, free meals, and donations to whatever. We can't afford it and I don't think I could stand it. Its sad really. Chita's enthusiasm is inspiring but even he has just had enough.
We both can't face opening this business.
Its a turning point for him and I. One I did not expect at all. I thought I was here to set up a business, make enough money to build a house and create a tropical lifestyle for myself. However, that has been put on hold. I am now backing off from my bakery project for at least a year, and with a wait and see attitude.
Its disappointing but I am oh so glad, we talked about it before we opened. We are both unhappy about it but he is exhausted from setting it up and just wants to escape.
I am happy to spend the next few months in Fiji working out our relationship, working part-time at the Pearl, swiming, exercising and relaxing.
I am still optimistic we can get the cafe going, but not right now. He needs a break and we need to get to know each other without the stress of a business on our shoulders. He has also been worrying about how to protect me from the bad elements of the village and now he does not have to worry.
Last night we lay on mats on the porch at the front of his mother's house. It was the first time he had ever done it. Changes are a foot. The house has been as hot as Hades for the last couple of weeks, so we are now lounging outside on our own.... Major change...

The Pearl

2007-01-28T17:22:00.000-08:00

What a week! I have adjusted to village life somewhat but there are things that can get on an Aussie girl's nerves. Like meal times. I love to cook. I love to feed a crowd. I love to sit down and immerse myself in convivial chat and have a good time. The bane of my life this week has been cooking meals and having no one turn up on time. I sit and wait, while food congeals or dries up and I am not happy Jan. In Fiji, the women prepare meals each evening but do not have a bloody clue when their men will show. Maybe they are having a chat along the road with someone; maybe they are at an important village meeting; maybe they are drinking kava; maybe they are sitting on the deck talking; and maybe just maybe I am fed up with this arrangement. Fijians arrive for a meal, either sit at a table, but more commonly along a long rectangular cloth on the floor, and turn over a plate, fill it up, eat in silence and leave. No bloody fun for me!
I have also adjusted to washing in cold water using an outdoor sink. It takes me three hours, as I soap up, scrub with a brush on a wooden board I found ( and wasn't quite sure what to do with it so I just rest my washing on top and scrub away. I then remove a 10 foot bamboo pole holding up the clothes line, lowering it to my height. Place the clothes on the line with pegs and then hoist it back up to tree height. Was so proud of myself to see an array of nearly clean washing, only to turn my back and go back to the sink for more, and hear 'splat! splat! splat! as clothes fell to the ground. I realised that the plastic pegs that Fijians use require the peg to be locked into place or otherwise they fall off.
Its been stinking hot and nights of sleeping in the front room of a concrete house which receives the full blast of the sun. I toss and turn, my bedding heats up, my pillows heat up, and my head heats to an unbearable temperature so I wake up, move and try to find a cool spot. Have spent the last few nights having a bucket bath before bedtime.
I have a new part time job while I am waiting for the boys to finish with the bar. The deck or should I say 'dick extension' is finally finished. Looks amazing and if I want to find Chita, he is always there at sunset with whoever wants to have a chat. This week its doors on hinges, a splash of paint, pipes in place for the sink, and a deal to be made with Mikes Divers for using electricity.
I started my new job this morning. I woke up at six am, bucket bath, getting dressed, watching Chita leap from the bed beside me going ' Amanda' then realising I am awake already and promptly falling asleep again. We are living at his mum's so its respect all the way, and separate beds are us. I don't mind at all as I heat up like a furnace and need all the space I can create around myself to keep cool.
I made a coffee and sat contemplating until 7 am. A stroll to the road to join the queue of school children in gleaming white shirts and grey sulus, with pristine backpacks on their backs ( its the first week of school here) and I try to flag down a van.
The art of catching a van in Fiji is tricky as I still haven't identified the vans that only go to the nearest village on either side, and the suva- lautoka vans, or the food vans. I missed a fast van, and then waited for the bus. While I was talking to Di and Vive waiting to catch the bus, I missed another van. I then got my finger out at the right time and caught a van with an Indian driver. I am not racist, but with an Indian driver and me being white or kavalangi I knew I was going to have to pay more. In fact a $4 ride turned into $5. Have to go to the bank this afternoon and get change for the week, so I just shove the right amount into the driver's hand. I am on a budget.
I arrive at The Pearl, at 8.30 and decide to walk down to the beach. Sit on a chair overlooking the water and close my eyes for five minutes and get a grip.
Its been a busy morning as Donna, Michaela and Gaby and I move all the resources into a hotel room which will become our classroom. I am teaching 5 mornings a week, with access to internet whenever I need it. Yippee! Otherwise I have to catch a van to Sigatoka and pay $10+ for the slowest broadband ever.
I have planned our lessons and have got my head around the NSW version of outcome statements. I have the afternoons to pursue my woodfired oven project. The boys have told me they can build it. I just have to get the bricks. I can't wait to cook in an oven which is actually hot. Tried to make pikelets yesterday on a kerosene stove but with no sizzle it was hard to get them to be light, fluffy and browned, instead of uncooked gluey missiles.
I am also on a diet and have started steaming and boiling as everything here is fried. No wonder the Fijian ladies ass is so wide. They eat last, hoover up everything that has not been eaten and its all deeply drenched in oil or coconut oil.
Chita made the classic mistake of not thinking before he opened his mouth yesterday. We arrived back from Suva in the heat of the day, and he asked me to cook lunch. I came up with chicken drumsticks in a tomato salsa with zucchini, guacamole and fried white sweet potato chips. Cooking the sweet potatoes was a mistake in 36 degrees with a stove that takes all bloody day to heat up. I sat on a chair, hovering over the pot and sweating buckets. Chita came in hungry and tried to rush the cooking.
Its done.
No its not.
Then as he started eating he said 'There's always some flavour missing from your cooking'
I took his plate and told him 'You don't have to eat it'
He was about to continue, when he took one look at my face and said
Okay okay.
I burst out with 'No chilli or curry powder in this'
You are rude to talk about food like that, when someone has sweated buckets to make that food for you.
He took one look at my trembling top lip and went to the fridge and poured me a glass of water.
Later that evening, just before bed time he turns to me and says, I just want to say, Thank you again Amanda for the lovely dinner.
He will have to adjust to the delicate flavours of boiled and steamed food as there will be plenty more...

In the village, the peaceful village!

2007-01-17T19:50:00.000-08:00

Have spent the last week in Chita's village staying in his mother's house. Its been interesting to say the least. Fijians are very kind, gentle people and they don't like to tell a kavalangi when they are offending traditional customs, so its been me making mistakes and Chita correcting me.
For example, the front door of the house is only for the owner and his wife to enter. Everyone else has to enter by the back door. There I go skipping in and out of the front door, completely unaware of a serious offence. I know that you have to take your shoes off , from previous visits but making sure your feet are clean is something I tend to forget, as I stroll up from the beach. I also have to sit with my legs not facing the middle door, as outside it is a major walkway where everyone passes, so my legs must not show at all. If anyone walks past, they must be invited in for a cup of tea or kana ( a meal). One night, Chita's sister in law, said"Man we should move the doors, then we could eat our dinner in peace!"
I have to wear the sulu or sarong when I am on the front porch, even if I am wearing shorts. Its been incredibly hot so of course I keep forgetting. I also start out with a sulu over my shorts, from the village, walk up the beach and start taking off clothes, by the time I get to the Warwick Hotel I am in my bathers. Coming home I have to put everything back on and be fully covered.
I hate the fact that my upper body is a gorgeous golden brown but my legs are stark white so whenever possible I get them out.
Staying in the village means eating dinner late, the children and grandma on the floor, either side of a long cloth, and me at the dining table with whoever wants to sit with me. Some nights people come over, they will be polite, and speak a little English but once stories need to be told, its Fijian only. It can be lonely at times, sitting quietly, listening like mad and not understanding a bloody word of it. I have learnt greetings and 'katakata' because it has been very hot. I have had to throw water over my head each night before I go to sleep. The first few days were exhausting as my body was still trying to adjust to the change of temperature. Now after a week, I am tanned, have lost weight, and have been avoiding the humungus portions of food dished out by saying I am on a diet.
Things with the bure bar are creeping a long. We are so close, but have some unexpected expenses. We have the roof to finish, the electricity to put on ( a deal with Mike's divers next door) tables to make, chairs to buy, and a cash register. Bits and pieces like teatowels, receipt books, cutting boards and the like will be scrounged from all around.
To start cash flow I have insisted we start a roadside barbecue. You stop and for $3.50 a serve you receive my garlic, ginger and chilli chicken wings, a bean salad and a piece of cassava. Chita's mum is going to show me how to hack the cassava, or should I say peel the cassava with a machete, not sure how I will go.
Its been hot! hot! Hot! Plenty of drinks and avoiding treats. Chita had a cornetto in Suva yesterday and I had one bite only..... Yes I know its strange but true.
The water in the village has been off for sometime. There have been animated discussions on what needs to be done and who should do it. The mayor has not called a village meeting for months so no one can do anything. I am drinking boiled water mostly but after a visit to the hospital today to see Chita's new nephew, Amelia, his mum and I bumped into two ladies from the village who are looking seriously ill. One has an enormously distended stomach and the other an enormous boil on her neck. I am thinking bacterial, infection and I think its the water. Have to remember to buy Fiji water in the bottle for me to drink tonight. I cannot and do not want to get sick. We have so much to do.
I wake up every day and can use the toilet in the morning but to wash I take a bucketful of water from a nearby tap and slosh it over my head, Japanese style. Its been greatly soothing on some of these hot nights. I get sticky hot and am desperate to shower, but there is no water so I can't just jump in the shower whenever I want to. I also can't use the toilet after 9 am so I spend the day planning my toilet stops. Today I was returning a hire car so I stopped at the Outrigger Hotel and utilised their facilities. Its part of my daily toil.
I love the beach. I love the reef. Went snorkelling with Victor and Natalie to plan a tour last week and just loved floating about. Have been swimming nearly everyday and love just sitting and looking at the sea.
Last trip I was here, I grabbed Chita around the waist as we were heading back to the village. I said' What a beautiful Sunset!
'Yes' was his reply.
Now is the bit where you kiss me in front of the beautiful sunset.
Oh yes Miss Amanda Sutton. Right away.

Balmy Fiji!

2007-01-11T14:34:00.000-08:00

Having not seen Chita for 3 months, and its always a daunting task, to emerge through the customs doors and see if he is there waiting for me. I had bought some food and seeds I had to declare but they just waved me through.
I came out, he wasn't there, so I rang him on the mobile.
I am walking towards the airport now...
I walk out, and find him sitting on a bench waving a newpaper at me. He has cut his hair short, and looks fit and healthy.
We take the trolley down to the airport cafe and talk. No military in sight. Welcoming, smiley faces everywhere and it's warm..... two rum and cokes later, we are very relaxed.
We decide to stay at Tubukula cottages and catch a taxi there. I order dinner and a bottle of wine.Nice.
Can we have dinner in our bungalow?
Sure?
Can we go now to our room?
No I am sorry the security guard must take you and he is just fixing the gas.
Can you open the bottle of wine for me?
Sure... Sorry sorry, I will ask the cook to do it for you.
We pile the trolley with my 50 kg of luggage and head for the bungalow. Showers, a drink and dinner and a long talk.
Back to Votua the next day by taxi.
Kalara's house where I was going to stay, has a fence around it and her family are sending her back to their village. She has been drinking and carousing and not looking after the house. Chita's bure is a mess and he doesn't want us to live there. I spend the day talking to everyone, swimming, and find out at 7 o'clock at night, we are staying at his mum's.
I take a walk up the beach in the afternoon to see Simon, an Australian Fijian who is wanting to start a water sport business up and down the coast. He is a builder. Inoke the aging Fijian movie star, yes he was in a telemovie with Tele Savalas and played a sheik in a dramatic piece in Egypt greets me.
Bula Amanda.
I have been looking at your place. It looks good. But where is your room?
Hey, what a good idea! We build a room next to the bar and we have independence, privacy and can look after the bar. Once I start making bread I will need late night and early morning starts, so I can go and crash nearby....
I am ecstatic. Simon gives me instructions, a room made from tin, 14 x 8, with a toilet and shower - two doors so that visitors have bathroom access too...
Its only Day 1 and I am feeling more secure.
We visit Victor's for a barbecue dinner with pork spare ribs soaked in beer, the usual, garlic, chilli and lime. Delicious. Even grilled potatoes, not cassava on the barbecue!! How very European.
Day 2 sees me having tea and fresh passionfruit for breakfast. I sit talking to Chita's mum and then read my book until 11.30. I am about to head down the beach to go snorkelling, but lunch is waiting.
I have already prepared lunch for you.
Sit down, have a cup of tea... the meat will take 3 minutes....
I sit down, and tell her, that I have come to Fiji to get healthy and I am on a diet.
Okay, okay.
A huge bowl of beef stew appears.
That's for you Amanda.
Vinaka.
I eat about a third of it and gather my things to go. Chita has organised a mask. I stop at the bure bar to talk to Tamo who has a mouthpiece. I go nextdoor to Mike's dives and borrow a pair of flippers which I promise to return promptly.
Loaded up I head for the Marine Protected area. There have been so many changes in the last few months. A wedding chapel has gone up next to Vilisite's with a big fence and two security guards. I try to duck down the alleyway beside Asela's shop and she has built a gate and locked it. Unbelievable.
I stop at the concrete cage or drinks bar and order a sprite. Talking to the new shopkeeper, I find out she is from the Yasawas and wants to develop a small business there. I offer to help her plan it next Monday. Projects appear everywhere....
I walk into Villa Della Cowrie, the wedding chapel and ask the security if I can take a shortcut.
I will walk you down to the beach madam
Vinaka.
I am gobsmacked at the wedding chapel, its perching on the sand and it looks a little unstable. I walk over the rocks to the beach and wait. I swim in the crystal blue water and just float. My white body is changing colour rapidly as I turn into a sun lizard...
Victor and Melanie turn up and we head out into the lagoon to map a snorkelling tour they are setting up. I just follow along behind, not really caring where I am going and what I am doing. It takes a few minutes to get used to the snorkel again, and I need to use my flippers more to move me along.
I see fish, clams, sea slugs and sea urchins. I hit an area where the coral is high and I am not sure I can swim over it. Victor calls out
Amanda don't worry keep going, you will float over the top
I sure do.
We visit the deep ponds at the edge of the lagoon. I float over soft coral in an array of pastel colours, pink, yellow and mauve.
Victor and Melanie start pointing. I take my mask off, and turn around in the water, missing a reef shark completely....Thank God! I would have been paralysed with fear.
We are trying to find plastic bottle markers and they seem to have disappeared. We swim in a huge loop and then cut across it, for swimmers who may not be as strong. The current is building, and I have to paddle hard to get there.
My mask is initially too tight and hurting my nose. We expand it, and my mask starts filling up with water....
I am getting tired and the shore seems a long way away.
Yes, we have figured it all out now Amanda.
Great!
I head for the shore.
Victor tells me I have to cut through Simon's family house to get back to the main road. He leads us along the old road in the jungle, which finishes at Villa del Cowrie's fence. We end up doing a bush walk through the overhanging fronds back to the beach.
My freedom has been curbed. My long beach stroll to the Warwick for a swim and magazine can now only be done at low tide.
We get back onto the main road and run into Abo.
Amanda I am so sorry.
Why? Abo?
I cut my arm.
I know.
I am so sorry I have not been able to help you.
Its okay. You need to look after your arm.
He has sliced it and done some serious damage to his fingers. The feeling and movement is slowly coming back.
I know I could have stopped it, but I am Fijian you know, and I couldn't stop myself.
IE. I knew I shouldn't have been drinking and I could have stopped myself, but I didnt.
Victor and I laugh. How Fijian is that!
My mobile rings.
Where are you?
Walking down the beach. See you soon.
I decide to broach the subject of a master plan.
Chita is very defensive, short.
I have built this bar for you, now it is up to you to make it work.
No, no,no. I need your help.
I will be around.
I smell fear.
Everyone talks. I have made this, a shitty little bar.
What?
I love it. It's got atmosphere, it's great.
We walk back to his mum's for another curry.
Chita gives me some instructions about what to wear and where to sit. I must wear a sulu in the village at all times. I must not enter by the front door, as that is only for the owners of the house. I must make sure I cover my legs when I sit down. In fact it is better that I don't sit and face the door.
His brother Joe and wife natalie arrive. I find out that there is walkway past the dining room of the house. Chita's mum has a door which is always open and because people walk past, you must greet them and offer them either kana ( food) or tea.
Natalie suggests they move the door and put in windows, as it is the only house in the village where everyone can see straight in. Maybe plant a hedge of flowers to block the view.
I am learning new things daily.
The kids have raided my chocolate in the fridge, after lollypops, nuts, chips and cordial all day. Pacing yourself is not a Fijian way. Whatever you have you eat it all, or drink it all.
Chita and I talk. He is worried about paying back my brother's money.
Worst case scenario, I go back to Tassie and relief teach or work for a while to pay it off.
We need a small business development loan to get the business up and running so I will go to the bank tomorrow to see if they are still on offer under the current seeming unstable government. Fijians are behind Bainimarama's clean up campaign. Stories of corruption at all levels appearing daily and a naughty list with the first name of an offender, has been printed in the paper today.
Foreigners organising land leases which they don't pay for, borrowing huge sums from banks and a variety of funds, with pitiful payments back to the local landowners. Its all over.
Last night Chita was wavering. We will do what we agreed to do. It will be tough. But if we can make this work now, imagine in boom times.....
I am positive. I now have to activate my own personal action plan and show everyone and myself what I know I am capable of...

Coup Interruptus

2006-12-01T15:53:00.000-08:00

I gave a term's notice for resigning from one school. I wrote leave without pay letters for the other two schools I am teaching at and have now spend a couple of weeks responding to concerned enquiries.
'What's happening in Fiji?' ( as if I am a mind reader)
"Are you still going?'
'Yes'
Its been really tiring, frustrating and difficult. I have had problems ringing Fiji to find things out from Chita. I have decided not to read the paper daily,because as the Women's group of Fiji states 'Its still just a War of Words!'
Commodore Bainimarama makes his demands and then flies to New Zealand for his grand daughter's Christening. Yesterday he threatened a coup at midday and instead postponed it to Monday and went to a Police rugby match....
On the Coral Coast where Chita is, daily life is unfolding pretty much the way it always has. Over the weekend,on the one and only coastal road - The Queen's road- army reserves were called to barracks in Suva. Chita was concerned to be seeing military uniforms and the word is out that Franky is determined to oust the current government, get rid of the Australian High Commissioner and get the country back on track. The actions of a potential dictator I would have thought rather than the actions of a military leader who respects democratic rights.
I laughed when I read that only 1000 armreserves turned up in Suva, out of a potential 3000. Maybe there was a family reunion, a grog party or the lack of inclination to even get dressed and go to Suva.
I have gone through fear, anxiety and frustration over the last two weeks, but I am still positive. Fiji has been booming in the last two years, I have seen resorts popping up everywhere. I think the coup will give Chita and me time to get the bar open, build the brick oven, and get business happening. If we can make money in a coup we will be booming when it is all over. I also think that tourism has been happening in a way, where decisions are not well thought out and have taken advantage of the landowners, so slowing things down will be good for the country. However, the job losses will affect the Fijians straight away, and the effect of loss of income will have serious impact over the next six months.
I am busy cleaning up my life. I got rid of stuff I had in storage in Perth for eight years!!! I went over for a weekend, caught up with friends, looked through all my stuff and discovered that the only things worth keeping were my diaries. Snapshots of my travelling life. I have cleaned out my wardrobe, am still cleaning up the paperwork, cleaning out my office. Paper is an integral part of my life and I seem to like to keep it ALL, just in case. I blame my mother who kept gainfully occupied as a baby, tearing up newspaper and as an adult I just love to have lots of it around.
Chita keeps texting.
Hello Amanda, how r u?
We have coup in Fiji!
I have reassured him that Plan A, is I am coming on January 9th, and Plan
B is I will come when the all clear has sounded.
One teacher has already asked me if I wanted my language teaching job back. I have made my mind up. I know what I want. I am going to a warmer climate, l will be working on a business which I know will work, with the help and support of my beloved.
In Italian we say'chi dorme non prende il pesce'. If you sleep you won't catch the fish!

The Kiss

2006-11-20T00:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, okay! How did we connect?
As I was walking back to the taxi taking us back to our hotel,that day of the lovo lunch, Chita whispered to Jen 'How old is Amanda?
He obviously liked what he heard and calls out 'So how many children would you like Amanda?'
'At least five' was my instant reply.
He calls out ' So do you want to come down the beach and check out the Coral reef project I am working on?
'Sure, see you around ten?'
'No problem. Moce'
Jen starts ribbing me in the back of the taxi.
He really liked you.
No he did not.
Oh yes he did.
The next day I wake up and get ready. Jen waves from the poolside bar in bikinis, soaking up the sun, regaling an audience with 'You know what he said to her yesterday? No. The better half of a man is a woman.
Really. Yes really.
I walk down the beach to the village again. No one is around. I walk past a house and call out 'Hey its me!' and then I suddenly realise that I have no idea where he lives.
Sammy (Fijian Marlon Brandoesque) comes to the door and invites me to sit down in his house and offers me a drink of water.
I wait.
It is only now I realise what time means to a Fijian. Whenever we see each other that is the right time. It could be an hour, a day, a week, a month or a year later!
I am starting to wonder whether I have done the right thing when Abo appears at the door saying'Amanda, come on. we go!'
'Where's Chita?'
'He's coming!'
We sit on the sand. Abo cuts down some coconuts and we wait.
Can you sing Amanda?
Yes.
Sing for me.
Okay. I belt out a rendition of Anastacia's 'I'm out of love'.
As I finish and turn my head to look down the beach, who should I see loping towards us. He has a bare torso. A pair of filthy jeans hanging off his slim frame. I am mesmerized.
A big smile.
Bula Amanda.
Bula.
He takes my hand and guides me along overgrown paths where no evil insects lie in wait, describing his dream to me. His voice is quiet and low and because he is so tall, I just nod in agreement, not having a bloody clue what he is saying.
The sand is pristine white with clear turquoise waters lapping at its edge. Tiny shells hiding hermit crabs, move along the beach and crushed up coral remains litter the beach.
I am in heaven.
He pulls out a huge machete and carefully cuts a hole in the green coconuts.
Please drink.
I let the coconut juice dribble down my chin.
He holds up some concrete cones and like a magician pulls putty out of his pocket. He mixes the two parts together and then wedges a piece into the cone.
'I am going to write your name in coral
Miss Amanda Sutton across this reef'.
He breaks off some small pieces of pink coral and places it in the cone.
'I need to swim out and put these babies on the rack. Abo will take you on a snorkelling tour and bring you to the rack'.
I grab my flippers, and mask and wade into the water. Abo takes my hand and we begin our underwater adventure. The lagoon is full of life. As this is a marine protected area, we are surrounded by fish. Nemos are everywhere. We swim over sea slugs, stop to watch baby fish swimming in and out of the coral, and avoid touching the fire coral. Abo explains it all to me, very clearly and I feel completely safe.
At the rack, Chita tells me to look. I plunge my head underwater to witness a sea garden full of cones of brightly coloured coral sitting on metal racks and a school of brilliant blue fish feeding off the algae formed on the concrete cones.
I am overwhelmed. I did not realise it would be so beautiful.
He gives me a hug. I turn around and see Abo has swum back to shore.
He has delivered me to the chief.
We talk, laugh and then swim back to shore. In the shallows, he offers to show me a trick.
I can take off your flippers without you moving off my lap.
Okay, try me.
It works. I lift my toe up only to see a sea slug wrapped around it and I collapse backwards into the water. I had spent the last hour or so carefully avoiding them
We laugh. He pulls me onto his lap again and kisses me.
An unexpected surprise.

I'm Going!

2006-10-09T01:53:00.001-07:00

Decisions! Decisions! Decisions. After meeting the love of my life eighteen months a go, its been a roller coaster ride as we figure out how we are going to make a life together.
How did I fall?
An invite to Fiji to forget some legal problems which were ripping me apart and I found myself asleep on a sunbed beside a pool at the Warwick Hotel while my friend Jen had fast trakked herself down the beach to organise a cooking session for me with a local Fijian Family.
I woke up to find her holding a pina colada saying' Come and meet the Fijian lady you are going to cook with next Sunday! I staggered down the beach to meet Sugu, a large generous Fijian with big smile and a hug, saying 'So you want to learn how to cook a lovo, Amanda'.
Four days later I wake up in our air conditioned room to discover that it is only me, who is going to hoist herself out of bed early to catch a taxi down to the village to cook.
'Darling, I need some time by the pool. I will come and meet you at lunch time.'
I arrived at the village to see a group of smiling children waving and calling out 'Amanda, Amanda, come with us'.
I walked up the hill behind their nimble feet, trying to avoid tree roots and vines and slippery mud. A Fijian version of a young Marlon Brando revealing pearly white teeth calls out 'Bula! Amanda! '
I turn around to be introduced to the whole family. A young guy called Abo, grabs my arm and pulls me into the kitchen.
'While the lovo is being prepared, you can help me cook the fish I caught for you this morning.' Abo has spent some time learning the carpentry trade in Melbourne so his reassuringly Aussie vowels, help me orientate myself in this unfamiliar setting.
'What are you going to do to the fish, chef?' he calls out.
" Garlic, lime and ginger I think' is my reply.
'Hey that's what we would do, are you sure you are not really Fijian'.
His friendly smile and quirky sense of humour help me relax.
I go outside to watch the boys scrape coconuts for the polisami - wrapped taro leaf parcels filled with roasted coconut and coconut milk.
Another Fijian guy appears in a bright green and yellow tropical shirt and sits down beside me. He introduces himself as Chita in a mesmerizing soft voice.
We talk. I discover that he has had a dream for five year to open a bar on the beach. I have come to Fiji to forget about ungrateful and selfish guests, and have been searching my brain for a worthwhile food and wine project to pour my energies into. Maybe this is it.
Jen arrives late, and we are invited into the house. A long cloth has been placed down the centre of the room and we are invited to sit on either side of it. Dishes are laid out and plates marking spots for eaters are evident. I have difficulty sitting cross legged due to a car accident, so I orchestrate my back against a side board only to have Chita whisper
'Amanda, come here by me. You can lie down and eat in Fiji'.
We eat, laugh, talk and I find myself enjoying the company of this gentle Fijian man.