The Kiss

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!

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.