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...
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
In the village, the peaceful village!
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.
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.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Balmy Fiji!
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...
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...
Friday, December 01, 2006
Coup Interruptus
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!
'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!
Monday, November 20, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, October 09, 2006
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.
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.
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