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?
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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.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
Christmas in Tassie 2009
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...
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...
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A home at last!
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Yippee!
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Our journey!
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!
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!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Fiji is always close!
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.
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.
Monday, January 12, 2009
We're Married!
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.
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.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
All I want for Christmas is you!
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!
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!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Visas for Fijian Males to Australia
When I first met Chita, one of his friends worked at the New Zealand High Commission and told me that there was no way they would give him a visitor's visa as he had no income and had not worked in a resort for five years. Instead he had gone bush and was working on the family plantation. It was a tricky time for us - we had just met, we were keen to see each other a lot and in the first year I visited Fiji 7 times and spent every scrap of savings I had. I bought him a mobile phone to maintain contact and he also learnt how to send texts.
We then set up a small business. We followed the six steps of setting up a business in Suva and with all the documentation at our fingertips we applied for a short term business visa with me sponsoring his expenses. It was refused, as he had insufficient income - my status of sponsorship was not even considered. That was in 2005.
Chita had the shop to build so he wasn't too worried. I could still visit Fiji on holiday breaks being a teacher so we decided to put all our energy into setting up a business in Fiji.
At the end of 2006 Chita was playing rugby and was part of a team chosen to represent Fiji at Fiji Day in Sydney. He had lost his phone and I hadn't been back so we had no way of contacting each other on an impromptu basis - we had a committed phone call to someone's phone in the village every Monday night at 7 pm. I paid for his ticket, booked a ticket for myself to Sydney with a girlfriend. We turn up to Fiji day and he is nowhere to be seen. We ask friendly Fijians if the team from Votua had arrived. No, no, they will be here by one o'clock or one-thirty. We eat, we wander, we watch the dancing and singing. The teams arrive. I am directed to the adjacent park and asked the coach where Chita was. He and the boys are coming in a van= they are running late. We went back to get a seat for the game. The game starts - 10 minutes passes - no Chita, 20 minutes passes- no Chita. I walk onto the ground where all the Fijians were sitting watching the game and called out - Does anyone know where Esita Tubuna is? A sea of blank faces presented itself. I ask again a little more loudly. A young Fijian guy puts up his hand and tells me: He is back in Fiji. The visa for the team was refused.
Little did I know that this story hit Votua within 24 hours. A lady walking around the oval YELLING for Esita Tubuna. His mother found it amusing - as Fijian never raise their voice. What kind of outlandish creature was asking for her son, who had told her repeatedly he would never have a girlfriend again and was never going to marry.
I cried buckets. Went out for dinner and wept through my bowl of prawns, drank a lot and suddenly felt marginally better. I spent Sunday on my own travelling around Sydney Harbour on and off ferries still weeping in glorious sunshine - going why can't I ring him? Why can't I talk to him? I wrote a ten page letter and posted it. Then managed to talk to him at our appointed time on a Monday night back in Tassie and he says - don't worry!!!!!
My second attempt at a visa was a visitor's visa last year. We had been together for two years, we have a business in Fiji which is not making much money, I wanted to introduce him to my family and he gets refused again for all the same reasons and my sponsorship was again refused. I was gutted and devastated. I had presumed everything and provided supporting documentation and they ignored it all. I did not want to be around happy family. My mother thought she was being supportive by telling me to get over it. I'm sorry mum but this hurts. My sisters were instantly immigration agents who knew it all, and thought it was their right to tell me- that he had had no chance of getting a visitor's visa as they had contacts, and they knew better. Not what I needed.
My third attempt at a visa has been applying for a prospective spouse visa. Why didn't we get married? Because of the living 12 months continuously clause. I tried to live in Fiji last year and find a job so I could get a work permit but there was nothing available and what was available was slave labour.
Our migration agent suggested there were fewer hurdles for the prospective spouse visa so we went with that.
Its been a gruelling and taxing time for me emotionally, physically and mentally. I am a Type A personality who gets things done and I have been constantly thwarted by Fiji.
Even handing over the business to friends is huge for me, as I would love to be there getting a bakery-cafe set up and meeting heaps of people but instead I have had to relinquish that dream and prioritize. I need Chita in my life. He needs to learn Australian ways or this mixed marriage will go nowhere. We have more opportunities here, and I have to postpone my bakery-cafe for 2-5 years realistically while we get ourselves into a financially stable position. Boring but necessary.
So now you know why Chita has not been to Australia. Fijian males between 20-45 have great difficulty getting a visitor's visa. Fijians are put into a high risk category for overstaying which when you apply for visas you wonder how they could think that, as they can't get in the bloody country. I am with Rupert Murdoch who in his Boyer's lectures has stated that Australia needs to lift its restrictive immigration policies and build a working nation..... I agree wholeheartedly!
We then set up a small business. We followed the six steps of setting up a business in Suva and with all the documentation at our fingertips we applied for a short term business visa with me sponsoring his expenses. It was refused, as he had insufficient income - my status of sponsorship was not even considered. That was in 2005.
Chita had the shop to build so he wasn't too worried. I could still visit Fiji on holiday breaks being a teacher so we decided to put all our energy into setting up a business in Fiji.
At the end of 2006 Chita was playing rugby and was part of a team chosen to represent Fiji at Fiji Day in Sydney. He had lost his phone and I hadn't been back so we had no way of contacting each other on an impromptu basis - we had a committed phone call to someone's phone in the village every Monday night at 7 pm. I paid for his ticket, booked a ticket for myself to Sydney with a girlfriend. We turn up to Fiji day and he is nowhere to be seen. We ask friendly Fijians if the team from Votua had arrived. No, no, they will be here by one o'clock or one-thirty. We eat, we wander, we watch the dancing and singing. The teams arrive. I am directed to the adjacent park and asked the coach where Chita was. He and the boys are coming in a van= they are running late. We went back to get a seat for the game. The game starts - 10 minutes passes - no Chita, 20 minutes passes- no Chita. I walk onto the ground where all the Fijians were sitting watching the game and called out - Does anyone know where Esita Tubuna is? A sea of blank faces presented itself. I ask again a little more loudly. A young Fijian guy puts up his hand and tells me: He is back in Fiji. The visa for the team was refused.
Little did I know that this story hit Votua within 24 hours. A lady walking around the oval YELLING for Esita Tubuna. His mother found it amusing - as Fijian never raise their voice. What kind of outlandish creature was asking for her son, who had told her repeatedly he would never have a girlfriend again and was never going to marry.
I cried buckets. Went out for dinner and wept through my bowl of prawns, drank a lot and suddenly felt marginally better. I spent Sunday on my own travelling around Sydney Harbour on and off ferries still weeping in glorious sunshine - going why can't I ring him? Why can't I talk to him? I wrote a ten page letter and posted it. Then managed to talk to him at our appointed time on a Monday night back in Tassie and he says - don't worry!!!!!
My second attempt at a visa was a visitor's visa last year. We had been together for two years, we have a business in Fiji which is not making much money, I wanted to introduce him to my family and he gets refused again for all the same reasons and my sponsorship was again refused. I was gutted and devastated. I had presumed everything and provided supporting documentation and they ignored it all. I did not want to be around happy family. My mother thought she was being supportive by telling me to get over it. I'm sorry mum but this hurts. My sisters were instantly immigration agents who knew it all, and thought it was their right to tell me- that he had had no chance of getting a visitor's visa as they had contacts, and they knew better. Not what I needed.
My third attempt at a visa has been applying for a prospective spouse visa. Why didn't we get married? Because of the living 12 months continuously clause. I tried to live in Fiji last year and find a job so I could get a work permit but there was nothing available and what was available was slave labour.
Our migration agent suggested there were fewer hurdles for the prospective spouse visa so we went with that.
Its been a gruelling and taxing time for me emotionally, physically and mentally. I am a Type A personality who gets things done and I have been constantly thwarted by Fiji.
Even handing over the business to friends is huge for me, as I would love to be there getting a bakery-cafe set up and meeting heaps of people but instead I have had to relinquish that dream and prioritize. I need Chita in my life. He needs to learn Australian ways or this mixed marriage will go nowhere. We have more opportunities here, and I have to postpone my bakery-cafe for 2-5 years realistically while we get ourselves into a financially stable position. Boring but necessary.
So now you know why Chita has not been to Australia. Fijian males between 20-45 have great difficulty getting a visitor's visa. Fijians are put into a high risk category for overstaying which when you apply for visas you wonder how they could think that, as they can't get in the bloody country. I am with Rupert Murdoch who in his Boyer's lectures has stated that Australia needs to lift its restrictive immigration policies and build a working nation..... I agree wholeheartedly!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Hanging in there!
I had a serious chat to Chita yesterday. He is hanging in there. He like me is starting to think is this ever going to happen. I have paid for a migration agent - how can they not believe our relationship is genuine. How do we prove that our relationship is genuine. We don't have phone accounts other than vodafone. We don't write letters to each other anymore. I talk to him every couple of days on the phone and send a text or two. He has no computer -he cannot send emails.
Its the evidence according to Australian standards that is killing us. We don't have a home in Fiji - yet. We don't have a phone line, or electricity bills or water bills together (anyway in Fiji water is free)
I could compile a whole load of papers but it still doesn't prove that we love and care for each other. Chita has been interviewed but I have not. I hope that the sacrifice of moving to Hobart, to get a full time job, and live with a friend has paid off. It has cost me my health - a wriggly worm maybe lodged in my intestines - but not for long - a dose of vermox is going to shoo him out.
I keep saying patience is something I thought I had but it fades with inaction. Luckily Chita has something to do. Take a form we have already submitted, fill it out again and take a van ride to Suva and back and submit it. Please God, let this be the last thing they ask for.
Flights are going up. I am saving madly. I cannot afford to go to Fiji to go and get him. He will have to make his own way from Nadi to Sydney and then Melbourne. I will meet him there for the weekend and show him the sights and eat fabulous food together.
I have never been this powerless in my life. Our future lies in the hands of an office clerk, who may be having a good day or a bad day. He or she may feel like doing this properly or dismissing our case to the bottom of the pile. Who knows? December is looming and I know Chita is getting nervous. I am hiding my nerves and thinking he will be here in a couple of weeks. Why the hell not?
I told him in September last year I could not continue living apart. I have a partner who is invisible to my family and friends, who knows nothing of my life and who has never visited my country. I can't live like this.
Please Kevin Rudd ease up on the restrictions on immigration. Even Rupert Murdoch told you so.
I need him here. We need to have a life together or what's the point of it all?
Its the evidence according to Australian standards that is killing us. We don't have a home in Fiji - yet. We don't have a phone line, or electricity bills or water bills together (anyway in Fiji water is free)
I could compile a whole load of papers but it still doesn't prove that we love and care for each other. Chita has been interviewed but I have not. I hope that the sacrifice of moving to Hobart, to get a full time job, and live with a friend has paid off. It has cost me my health - a wriggly worm maybe lodged in my intestines - but not for long - a dose of vermox is going to shoo him out.
I keep saying patience is something I thought I had but it fades with inaction. Luckily Chita has something to do. Take a form we have already submitted, fill it out again and take a van ride to Suva and back and submit it. Please God, let this be the last thing they ask for.
Flights are going up. I am saving madly. I cannot afford to go to Fiji to go and get him. He will have to make his own way from Nadi to Sydney and then Melbourne. I will meet him there for the weekend and show him the sights and eat fabulous food together.
I have never been this powerless in my life. Our future lies in the hands of an office clerk, who may be having a good day or a bad day. He or she may feel like doing this properly or dismissing our case to the bottom of the pile. Who knows? December is looming and I know Chita is getting nervous. I am hiding my nerves and thinking he will be here in a couple of weeks. Why the hell not?
I told him in September last year I could not continue living apart. I have a partner who is invisible to my family and friends, who knows nothing of my life and who has never visited my country. I can't live like this.
Please Kevin Rudd ease up on the restrictions on immigration. Even Rupert Murdoch told you so.
I need him here. We need to have a life together or what's the point of it all?
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The last month has been an ordeal. I have been tired, sluggish, exhausted and lethargic to the max. I have had difficulty walking from my car to my office. I have had breathless attacks and palpitations. By Melbourne cup day I was thinking there is no way I can go to the school sports as I will not be able to walk around the oval with the students. I had tried to get a blood test the day before but the nurse could not find a vein. I presented myself again to my Russian doctor and was sent off to Pathology where they have fine needles and its no problem to get blood out of anyone. I then had a chest xray making sure I parked as close as possible to each venue so that I did not have to walk far. I was so buggared by those two activities that I drove home, went to sleep and woke up in time to see the Melbourne Cup and miss at least eight phone calls. I thought it was a colleague reminding me of a meeting at the Royal Botanical Gardens that afternoon but oh no, it was my doctor ringing. She had even rung my mum, who rang me to tell me to ring her back. I was ordered straight to hospital with a blood count of 39.How had I been walking around. Why had I not fainted and collapsed while walking or driving? Dunno. I am old Irish stock on both sides of the family and my father is surviving Parkinsons so I hopefully inherited some of his tough old boot strength. Into hospital I go. I order a taxi which takes me to emergency. I line up behind a drugged out skateboard who needed a band aid on his knee and when he did not get one big enough decided to throw his skateboard at the unbreakable windows, but the only thing that hurt was the reverberating noise. Security was called so he raced off, giving us all the finger. By this stage I am definitely feeling fragile. The nurse finds my paperwork and ushers me into emergency where I promptly burst into tears. Shock or terror or both. I was laid on a trolley and the bloody awful blood tests began. There was also the issue of inserting a canula into a non-existent vein but I really don't want to think about it. I had oxygen. I waited for the doctor who kept talking about 'internal bleeding'. I am thinking 'No I have no sign of that!' I just feel awful pretty much all the time. Then the brain worked and went, blood loss ie internal bleeding. I had no sign of it - no pain in my ovaries, no blood in my stools, no gut ache. I was a mystery to them all. I waited for family to call but there was no mobile reception in the the emergency department so I just watched the goings on around me. I heard a man next door with chest pain who had recently had a double b-pass and then I think I closed my eyes for a rest.
I was taken up to the ward and told a blood transfusion was next. I had to sign a paper saying that I accepted the blood as there is a slight chance I could have a reaction to it. By this stage I did not care. Feel better. What's that? I have been feeling so crappy for so long. I had visions that I was permanently going to be in this crappy unwell state - but no fear - blood makes it better. I am 0+ common as muck and I thank those people out there who give blood; as I feel so much better now.
I was kept in hospital for a week, and starved, as they had plans for me - a gastroenteroscopy and a colonoscopy which kept getting postponed. Drinks and jelly were my lot. How I looked forward to raspberry, orange or lemon jelly. Down to the day operations area, lying on the trolley, pale and fragile, and the anaethetist refuses to sedate me saying my blood count was still too low. I had endured a bowel clean of thunderous proportions for nothing. It was postponed a week. Bloody hell! Cannot say enough about the kindness and care from nursing staff as I had never been in hospital that long before. I was taking the least amount of pills compared to other patients and was just resting. They were all shake, rattling and rolling every night at pill dispensing time. I had a puff of my puffer and a drug to help control food acid in case I had a gastric ulcer of worse a stomach cancer. I knew I had no pain so I felt safe.
I wasn't looking forward to being knocked out, but it was quick. One minute I am looking at the anaethetist saying' I feel funny' and then I roll over and the surgeon is talking to me, and then I am gone. I wake up in recovery. The weird thing was my hearing came back first, and I woke up talking in response to a conversation amongst the nurses, then my brain kicked in. My initial response was 'amazing'. Its over and I am feeling alright... Yippee. A two hour wait and I see the surgeon who tells me ' No we did not find anything'.
I spend the weekend relaxing and then receive a phone call from a friend in Fiji who had just been back to the states, and had a blood test for a parasitic worm that lodges in the intestine. I also received another call from friends who had lived in Jamaica who suggested the same thing.
So now I am off to have another blood test - for this rapid blood loss - and yes it maybe caused by a parasitic worm in my intestine. Lovely!
In the meantime my beloved Chita in Fiji has been struggling through some issues himself. We are handing over the cafe to Fabi and Dege for two years. In return they get a bure on the beach and will renovate, maintain and upgrade the buildings. We will be setting up two businesses - they are having an art business and we will run the food business. I am never having partners again- the only partner I want is my husband to be. He has not spelt out to them that he will be in Australia for two years so they think he is around to work the business and be a partner. He had a meeting last week with them over a bowl of kava to sort out what is going on.
The visa - what can I say? Its been a bloody never ending story and I cannot believe it has taken this long and we still do not have a verdict. Chita had his interview in Suva on October 21st and then my migration agent received a request for more information. I rang and asked for clarification of when - the last six months or the last four years.
His response - this is highly irregular.
I had been trying to tell him how the Embassy in Suva worked but he would not believe me.
His next response was even more inappropriate - I am sorry Amanda but I think you are a genuine candidate but he is not.
Who bloody well asked you for your opinion, when you know nothing. I was flabbergasted.
I then reiterated that the Embassy in Suva loved lots of paper, loved to ask for more and more of it, and that it had nothing to do with Chita.
I asked him to send an email asking for clarification. A week passed and he did not ring. I rang him on the Friday and he did not answer his mobile but got his wife to answer. He's busy. Ring Monday.
Time is passing. I am reliving my visitor visa application of last year. It got to November and the applications for visa closes. Then the Embassy closes for Christmas and then it will be New Year before anything happens. I just do not want to repeat last Christmas on my own - with family, saying 'get over it, you knew it was going to happen, they don't let Fijians into Australia easily you know' And when did they all become Immigration department agents I ask myself.
Anyhow I applied pressure to the greek agent with a volcanic response. My sister in law decided to call him and ask him if he had sent the email. He hung up on her.
Great weekend that was. I sent an email authorising her on my behalf as he never seems to listen to me, and never pays any attention to what I say about the embassy in Suva. I have applied three times already; I am not a novice.
Anyhow rang him who must be obeyed and never questioned on the Monday and he was ready to pull the pin. I will not work through someone else. I managed to calm him down and get him to confirm that he would call the embassy and find out.
I waited Tuesday, Wednesday and then Thursday to make sure.
Amanda it is really difficult to call the embassy in Suva - you were right. They do want lots of paperwork. Yes the embassy does stop taking applications in November and yes they do close for Christmas and New Year.
A cheap victory. I just want Chita here.
The Friday before I wilted,and wandered off to hospital, I copied all the phone account, my text to Chita, his texts to me, a sample huge phone bill and my bank statements - with something actually in my account. The following Monday I dragged my tired body to my sister in laws work where she scanned and emailed them to he who must be obeyed.
The next day I was in hospital - so not bad. I have just had an email today asking for one more form which we have already filled out, but who cares lets do it again ( maybe it was misplaced) and Chita is picking up a copy from a friend of ours in Votua who has a computer and printer. Yippee!
We are at the last stage. He could be given the thumbs up in the next couple of weeks. All I want for Christmas is Esita Tubuna in Tassie.
I rang him today and he was flat. If I don't get the visa - we will think of something else. What? I can't get a job in Fiji. He can't get a job anywhere else. What hope have we got?
He has to come to Australia. Its the only way to give ourselves freedom and lots of options. I will not give up. We are so close I can feel it.
I am wishing, and hoping - no intestinal worm for me, and a little stamp in a kind, gentle Fijian male's passport - which will bring a slow beaming smile.
Santa are you listening?
I was taken up to the ward and told a blood transfusion was next. I had to sign a paper saying that I accepted the blood as there is a slight chance I could have a reaction to it. By this stage I did not care. Feel better. What's that? I have been feeling so crappy for so long. I had visions that I was permanently going to be in this crappy unwell state - but no fear - blood makes it better. I am 0+ common as muck and I thank those people out there who give blood; as I feel so much better now.
I was kept in hospital for a week, and starved, as they had plans for me - a gastroenteroscopy and a colonoscopy which kept getting postponed. Drinks and jelly were my lot. How I looked forward to raspberry, orange or lemon jelly. Down to the day operations area, lying on the trolley, pale and fragile, and the anaethetist refuses to sedate me saying my blood count was still too low. I had endured a bowel clean of thunderous proportions for nothing. It was postponed a week. Bloody hell! Cannot say enough about the kindness and care from nursing staff as I had never been in hospital that long before. I was taking the least amount of pills compared to other patients and was just resting. They were all shake, rattling and rolling every night at pill dispensing time. I had a puff of my puffer and a drug to help control food acid in case I had a gastric ulcer of worse a stomach cancer. I knew I had no pain so I felt safe.
I wasn't looking forward to being knocked out, but it was quick. One minute I am looking at the anaethetist saying' I feel funny' and then I roll over and the surgeon is talking to me, and then I am gone. I wake up in recovery. The weird thing was my hearing came back first, and I woke up talking in response to a conversation amongst the nurses, then my brain kicked in. My initial response was 'amazing'. Its over and I am feeling alright... Yippee. A two hour wait and I see the surgeon who tells me ' No we did not find anything'.
I spend the weekend relaxing and then receive a phone call from a friend in Fiji who had just been back to the states, and had a blood test for a parasitic worm that lodges in the intestine. I also received another call from friends who had lived in Jamaica who suggested the same thing.
So now I am off to have another blood test - for this rapid blood loss - and yes it maybe caused by a parasitic worm in my intestine. Lovely!
In the meantime my beloved Chita in Fiji has been struggling through some issues himself. We are handing over the cafe to Fabi and Dege for two years. In return they get a bure on the beach and will renovate, maintain and upgrade the buildings. We will be setting up two businesses - they are having an art business and we will run the food business. I am never having partners again- the only partner I want is my husband to be. He has not spelt out to them that he will be in Australia for two years so they think he is around to work the business and be a partner. He had a meeting last week with them over a bowl of kava to sort out what is going on.
The visa - what can I say? Its been a bloody never ending story and I cannot believe it has taken this long and we still do not have a verdict. Chita had his interview in Suva on October 21st and then my migration agent received a request for more information. I rang and asked for clarification of when - the last six months or the last four years.
His response - this is highly irregular.
I had been trying to tell him how the Embassy in Suva worked but he would not believe me.
His next response was even more inappropriate - I am sorry Amanda but I think you are a genuine candidate but he is not.
Who bloody well asked you for your opinion, when you know nothing. I was flabbergasted.
I then reiterated that the Embassy in Suva loved lots of paper, loved to ask for more and more of it, and that it had nothing to do with Chita.
I asked him to send an email asking for clarification. A week passed and he did not ring. I rang him on the Friday and he did not answer his mobile but got his wife to answer. He's busy. Ring Monday.
Time is passing. I am reliving my visitor visa application of last year. It got to November and the applications for visa closes. Then the Embassy closes for Christmas and then it will be New Year before anything happens. I just do not want to repeat last Christmas on my own - with family, saying 'get over it, you knew it was going to happen, they don't let Fijians into Australia easily you know' And when did they all become Immigration department agents I ask myself.
Anyhow I applied pressure to the greek agent with a volcanic response. My sister in law decided to call him and ask him if he had sent the email. He hung up on her.
Great weekend that was. I sent an email authorising her on my behalf as he never seems to listen to me, and never pays any attention to what I say about the embassy in Suva. I have applied three times already; I am not a novice.
Anyhow rang him who must be obeyed and never questioned on the Monday and he was ready to pull the pin. I will not work through someone else. I managed to calm him down and get him to confirm that he would call the embassy and find out.
I waited Tuesday, Wednesday and then Thursday to make sure.
Amanda it is really difficult to call the embassy in Suva - you were right. They do want lots of paperwork. Yes the embassy does stop taking applications in November and yes they do close for Christmas and New Year.
A cheap victory. I just want Chita here.
The Friday before I wilted,and wandered off to hospital, I copied all the phone account, my text to Chita, his texts to me, a sample huge phone bill and my bank statements - with something actually in my account. The following Monday I dragged my tired body to my sister in laws work where she scanned and emailed them to he who must be obeyed.
The next day I was in hospital - so not bad. I have just had an email today asking for one more form which we have already filled out, but who cares lets do it again ( maybe it was misplaced) and Chita is picking up a copy from a friend of ours in Votua who has a computer and printer. Yippee!
We are at the last stage. He could be given the thumbs up in the next couple of weeks. All I want for Christmas is Esita Tubuna in Tassie.
I rang him today and he was flat. If I don't get the visa - we will think of something else. What? I can't get a job in Fiji. He can't get a job anywhere else. What hope have we got?
He has to come to Australia. Its the only way to give ourselves freedom and lots of options. I will not give up. We are so close I can feel it.
I am wishing, and hoping - no intestinal worm for me, and a little stamp in a kind, gentle Fijian male's passport - which will bring a slow beaming smile.
Santa are you listening?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sandwiched, Skint, but Sweaty!
My life in never dull. I am an extremely organised person, I plan things well, I get things done. However, put the word 'Fiji' or the island thereof into the equation and everything I know and understand goes out the window.
It was great to fly Air Pacific to Fiji for a change- instead of arriving tired and half starved on Virgin Blue, I actually got a nice meal, plenty of drinks,a friendly young couple for company and watched movies all the way.... I arrived in Nadi on time and noticed the boys with the ukele are no longer singing - a budgetary cutback no doubt and my transition through customs was seamless. I push my trolley to the ANZ ATM to extract a wad of cash and turn around to seek out the eyes of my beloved, and of course he is not there.
I buy a quick phone card to make a call, as I will never have International Roaming again ( $1600 phone bill) and hear his quiet dulcet tones saying " I am just getting off the bus".
We catch a taxi to Hotel San Bruno, cheap, cheerful and very quiet. My boy has grown very hairy and a beard is something new to adjust to. We take off to an Indian restaurant in Namaka for Tandoori prawns and duck curry.
I wake to the glorious heat and sunshine of Fiji only to fall in a complete heap. I stay lounging on my bed while Chita runs around on errands. I have had a coughing virus which has worn me out and its nice to hand over to someone else for a change. I eventually get dressed and we head off to Port Denarau for dinner. We sit at one of the cafes on the esplanade and enjoy sitting outdoors.
Sunday morning I had planned for us to catch a boat to Castaway to lounge around the pool with my brother and his family. Not to be. No bathers, sarong and thongs for me. We arrive early to find the booking station besieged and only one place to the island - Castaway only takes 15 day trippers a day. Buggar. I should have booked it yesterday but could not move. Instead Chita says 'Let's hire a car' Part of me wanted to say - no bloody way, I am too tired, its going to make me more tired, and we will be driving miles I know it" and then the soft side of me - I love this man, why don't I just give him what he wants' and therein lies my biggest mistake. Do not overide the I am too tired, and I really don't need this button. We head off to Satellite cars from whom I will never, ever, ever hire another car. I hired a car for the day last trip and had to beat them down on price and conditions. This time, it was way too expensive, no give, and the cost horrendous. I gave in. Why oh why?
We drove to Lautoka to drop off a photo to Chita's daughter Ranadi; who was not home. Let's drive down to Votua and I can show you the renovations to the shop and no one will see us, so we can escape again.
I knew it. An hour and a half later we hit Votua, have a look at the shop -which is going to be great. The building has been extended, the roof is being redone, the bathroom and toilet block concrete foundations have been laid and it looks like the plans developed by Fabi (an Italian friend) and Dege, her partner, have been well thought out.
I have time for a quick swim and we are off.
Please can we stop in Sigatoka?
Okay. As we drive around the roundabout, a van and car appear on our left and block our turn. I stop and Mr Grog in his fluoro green four wheel drive, goes right up the back of us. I step out, and there is a dent in the panel as well as a dent in the bumper bar.
No I didn't do anything. It was already there.
We had not had a condition report so I wasn't sure.
Chita, get out and have a look.
There is a dent, but its not your fault, don't worry about it.
I drove back to Nadi in an absolute lather, repeating over and over to myself why do I do these things when I don't have money in reserve to pay.
Sure enough the fine print states driver is responsible for all damages even if caused by another driver. Driver is also to pay up to $4,000 damage. Great.
I head off to the Satellite office for a fight and of course try madly to getout of it, but they have my credit card details and I have to pay. I manage to take a few hundred off the bill and then I realise that once I have paid that + the balance in cash - we have no holiday fund.
I was livid, pissed off, frothing at the mouth, and when the guy from Satellite dropped my off at our hotel, saying 'See you next time Amanda' I muttered 'Not bloody likely' and let the bomb drop on my relaxed boy lying on the bed watching tv.
I am never hiring a car again in Fiji. This is the last straw! It costs a fortune and now I have to pay damages for something I did not do. We are now officially skint so forget daytrips and romantic getaways - we have no money.
Will you have to go home?
What? Miss ever resourceful has got Chita's mobile phone out and quickly texting two friends who knew I was already scraping the bottom of the barrell to go, and had offered financial back up. Lucky I have good friends...
Lucky I had already paid for the accomdation in Suva at the Quest appartments for a week, and lucky I had already bought some food, so we were not destitute.
I am so over this half life we have in Fiji. I don't get the tropical holiday, I get living a city life with Chita in preparation for Oz and getting the visa organised - boring paperwork. I want real holidays with my man from here on in. I am so sick of being financially strapped. I am so sick of budgeting. I am so sick of this drain on my time, energy and resources. Give us the visa please...
Can we please move on from this half life to fun times in Oz in December.
I have all my family, friends and colleagues going - when's he coming? As if its tomorrow. 'Soon' is my reply. Everything moves so quickly here in Oz, no one can believe I have had to wait this bloody long, and the Department of Immigration could stretch it out until December, or refuse us, or ask for more information and delay us and then its the Migrant's tribunal with a migration barrister or get married and wait for a spouse visa - spend more money and wait all over again.... I hope this prospective spouse visa works. Fewer hurdles to overcome were the famous last words of my migration agent.... we shall see.
Anyhow I spent the rest of the day flat as you can imagine and thought" Come on, get over it, you only have a week with Chita- try and have fun!
Chita really likes the Quest appartments as it feels like we live in our own little world, our own little pad, and we live like a couple. He wakes up early and makes coffee. Then he runs off to get the papers. I make him a cooked breakast. We lounge about. Plan our day - a walk - a shop - a trip to the pictures $5 thank god and cheap as chips. He loves watching television and is a complete remote control freak.
We talk a lot about what we want to do and I am happy knowing Fabi and Dege are coming on board with the shop. We have put so much into it, and I have had a real issue dealing with the fact I can't be there to help make it grow into a real cafe. It tortures me, but I am the breadwinner at this stage and have no choice. Fabi and Dege had a guest house with no lease and have been kicked out after 5 years of renovating the place, so they needed a place to stay. We have negotiated in true island style, a place for them to live on the beach strip while they in return renovate the shop and make some additions. They are also going to build two bures - one for them and one for us - so Chita and I will have somewhere to stay when we visit and we can also rent it out to people passing by which will be good.
We had lunch with Fabi and Dege in Suva on the last Thursday and I suddenly discovered we were off to the accountant to sign an agreement and I had only seen it for five minutes and told Chita we needed to discuss it further. Avoidance is great in the Fijian male, especially when they know there is going to be an argument and they just want to keep the peace.
I was again volcanic but managed to keep it under control during the meeting. The agreement was okay. However, discussions of partnerships and setting up companies threw me, as I had not even had a chance to get my head around how the shop is going to managed while we are in Australia. My gut reaction is to lease the business to Fabi and Dege for two years with a review.... I don't want to spend any more serious money until I am ready to get his wood fired oven bakery off the ground.
I was in turmoil emotionally. I want so badly to be in Fiji and get this up and running but we don't have the money. I want to build a two bedroom shack so we can live a simple life and we don't have the money. I am constantly supporting the shop, saving up for this visa, and then spending any potential savings going back and forth to Fiji -it has been the most testing time of my life and I advise others to think carefully.
Of course I love him, and want to be with him. I have tried so hard to get a reasonably well paid job in Fiji but with the coup - no go. I have tried to get grants- but they are no go. Its not meant to be at this stage. Chita needs to come here, and learn about my life and develop a work ethic which will help grow the business in Fiji.
I know I always go for a challenge and the challenges won't stop when he gets here.
How is going to cope with the cold in Tassie? Don't know.
What kind of work does he want to do? I am hoping he will give anything a go.
What if he doesn't like it? He is coming here to get married to me - Tassie is full of wineries, great places to visit and lots of great food - what's not to like?
You are going to find it difficult when he comes as he adjusts to life in Oz - Yep just like he had to adjust to me making blunders through his culture in the four months I stayed with him last year.
I have to stay positive- its my only hope!
It was great to fly Air Pacific to Fiji for a change- instead of arriving tired and half starved on Virgin Blue, I actually got a nice meal, plenty of drinks,a friendly young couple for company and watched movies all the way.... I arrived in Nadi on time and noticed the boys with the ukele are no longer singing - a budgetary cutback no doubt and my transition through customs was seamless. I push my trolley to the ANZ ATM to extract a wad of cash and turn around to seek out the eyes of my beloved, and of course he is not there.
I buy a quick phone card to make a call, as I will never have International Roaming again ( $1600 phone bill) and hear his quiet dulcet tones saying " I am just getting off the bus".
We catch a taxi to Hotel San Bruno, cheap, cheerful and very quiet. My boy has grown very hairy and a beard is something new to adjust to. We take off to an Indian restaurant in Namaka for Tandoori prawns and duck curry.
I wake to the glorious heat and sunshine of Fiji only to fall in a complete heap. I stay lounging on my bed while Chita runs around on errands. I have had a coughing virus which has worn me out and its nice to hand over to someone else for a change. I eventually get dressed and we head off to Port Denarau for dinner. We sit at one of the cafes on the esplanade and enjoy sitting outdoors.
Sunday morning I had planned for us to catch a boat to Castaway to lounge around the pool with my brother and his family. Not to be. No bathers, sarong and thongs for me. We arrive early to find the booking station besieged and only one place to the island - Castaway only takes 15 day trippers a day. Buggar. I should have booked it yesterday but could not move. Instead Chita says 'Let's hire a car' Part of me wanted to say - no bloody way, I am too tired, its going to make me more tired, and we will be driving miles I know it" and then the soft side of me - I love this man, why don't I just give him what he wants' and therein lies my biggest mistake. Do not overide the I am too tired, and I really don't need this button. We head off to Satellite cars from whom I will never, ever, ever hire another car. I hired a car for the day last trip and had to beat them down on price and conditions. This time, it was way too expensive, no give, and the cost horrendous. I gave in. Why oh why?
We drove to Lautoka to drop off a photo to Chita's daughter Ranadi; who was not home. Let's drive down to Votua and I can show you the renovations to the shop and no one will see us, so we can escape again.
I knew it. An hour and a half later we hit Votua, have a look at the shop -which is going to be great. The building has been extended, the roof is being redone, the bathroom and toilet block concrete foundations have been laid and it looks like the plans developed by Fabi (an Italian friend) and Dege, her partner, have been well thought out.
I have time for a quick swim and we are off.
Please can we stop in Sigatoka?
Okay. As we drive around the roundabout, a van and car appear on our left and block our turn. I stop and Mr Grog in his fluoro green four wheel drive, goes right up the back of us. I step out, and there is a dent in the panel as well as a dent in the bumper bar.
No I didn't do anything. It was already there.
We had not had a condition report so I wasn't sure.
Chita, get out and have a look.
There is a dent, but its not your fault, don't worry about it.
I drove back to Nadi in an absolute lather, repeating over and over to myself why do I do these things when I don't have money in reserve to pay.
Sure enough the fine print states driver is responsible for all damages even if caused by another driver. Driver is also to pay up to $4,000 damage. Great.
I head off to the Satellite office for a fight and of course try madly to getout of it, but they have my credit card details and I have to pay. I manage to take a few hundred off the bill and then I realise that once I have paid that + the balance in cash - we have no holiday fund.
I was livid, pissed off, frothing at the mouth, and when the guy from Satellite dropped my off at our hotel, saying 'See you next time Amanda' I muttered 'Not bloody likely' and let the bomb drop on my relaxed boy lying on the bed watching tv.
I am never hiring a car again in Fiji. This is the last straw! It costs a fortune and now I have to pay damages for something I did not do. We are now officially skint so forget daytrips and romantic getaways - we have no money.
Will you have to go home?
What? Miss ever resourceful has got Chita's mobile phone out and quickly texting two friends who knew I was already scraping the bottom of the barrell to go, and had offered financial back up. Lucky I have good friends...
Lucky I had already paid for the accomdation in Suva at the Quest appartments for a week, and lucky I had already bought some food, so we were not destitute.
I am so over this half life we have in Fiji. I don't get the tropical holiday, I get living a city life with Chita in preparation for Oz and getting the visa organised - boring paperwork. I want real holidays with my man from here on in. I am so sick of being financially strapped. I am so sick of budgeting. I am so sick of this drain on my time, energy and resources. Give us the visa please...
Can we please move on from this half life to fun times in Oz in December.
I have all my family, friends and colleagues going - when's he coming? As if its tomorrow. 'Soon' is my reply. Everything moves so quickly here in Oz, no one can believe I have had to wait this bloody long, and the Department of Immigration could stretch it out until December, or refuse us, or ask for more information and delay us and then its the Migrant's tribunal with a migration barrister or get married and wait for a spouse visa - spend more money and wait all over again.... I hope this prospective spouse visa works. Fewer hurdles to overcome were the famous last words of my migration agent.... we shall see.
Anyhow I spent the rest of the day flat as you can imagine and thought" Come on, get over it, you only have a week with Chita- try and have fun!
Chita really likes the Quest appartments as it feels like we live in our own little world, our own little pad, and we live like a couple. He wakes up early and makes coffee. Then he runs off to get the papers. I make him a cooked breakast. We lounge about. Plan our day - a walk - a shop - a trip to the pictures $5 thank god and cheap as chips. He loves watching television and is a complete remote control freak.
We talk a lot about what we want to do and I am happy knowing Fabi and Dege are coming on board with the shop. We have put so much into it, and I have had a real issue dealing with the fact I can't be there to help make it grow into a real cafe. It tortures me, but I am the breadwinner at this stage and have no choice. Fabi and Dege had a guest house with no lease and have been kicked out after 5 years of renovating the place, so they needed a place to stay. We have negotiated in true island style, a place for them to live on the beach strip while they in return renovate the shop and make some additions. They are also going to build two bures - one for them and one for us - so Chita and I will have somewhere to stay when we visit and we can also rent it out to people passing by which will be good.
We had lunch with Fabi and Dege in Suva on the last Thursday and I suddenly discovered we were off to the accountant to sign an agreement and I had only seen it for five minutes and told Chita we needed to discuss it further. Avoidance is great in the Fijian male, especially when they know there is going to be an argument and they just want to keep the peace.
I was again volcanic but managed to keep it under control during the meeting. The agreement was okay. However, discussions of partnerships and setting up companies threw me, as I had not even had a chance to get my head around how the shop is going to managed while we are in Australia. My gut reaction is to lease the business to Fabi and Dege for two years with a review.... I don't want to spend any more serious money until I am ready to get his wood fired oven bakery off the ground.
I was in turmoil emotionally. I want so badly to be in Fiji and get this up and running but we don't have the money. I want to build a two bedroom shack so we can live a simple life and we don't have the money. I am constantly supporting the shop, saving up for this visa, and then spending any potential savings going back and forth to Fiji -it has been the most testing time of my life and I advise others to think carefully.
Of course I love him, and want to be with him. I have tried so hard to get a reasonably well paid job in Fiji but with the coup - no go. I have tried to get grants- but they are no go. Its not meant to be at this stage. Chita needs to come here, and learn about my life and develop a work ethic which will help grow the business in Fiji.
I know I always go for a challenge and the challenges won't stop when he gets here.
How is going to cope with the cold in Tassie? Don't know.
What kind of work does he want to do? I am hoping he will give anything a go.
What if he doesn't like it? He is coming here to get married to me - Tassie is full of wineries, great places to visit and lots of great food - what's not to like?
You are going to find it difficult when he comes as he adjusts to life in Oz - Yep just like he had to adjust to me making blunders through his culture in the four months I stayed with him last year.
I have to stay positive- its my only hope!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Fiji in September!
I have managed a cheap direct flight from Hobart to Nadi online - Yippee! Air Pacific for a change. I am finding the Virgin Blue seats very narrow and had a bout of back pain last time I was coming back from Nadi to Sydney caused me to walk up and down the aisles for an hour or so.
I have become more adventurous recently in booking flights and accomodation online. I used Wotif.com for a week at Mana island in January which was great. I have used LastMinute.com to book four nights at the Quest appartments in Suva twice now. I used travel.com to book my flight to Fiji. Its all very interesting. I went to Air Pacific website and couldn't find a cheap deal, then through an online wholesaler I have done good. Its worth a try.
I told my brother that I can save him heaps next year if he wants a holiday on Castaway again - I can organise flights, accomodation,transfers, and a stay over night in Nadi - all online. Who needs a travel agent I say?
The only issue with booking online are the conditions for change. If you book with an airline, you have the opportunity to change with specific fares, with online bookings with wotif, last minute, Asia Hotels, Hotels.com etc there are charges to making a change. However, I saved myself money this trip, but more than that I saved time. I am leaving on Friday September 5th on an early flight to Sydney, and flying out at one o'clock on an afternoon flight to Nadi. Usually with Virgin Blue I have to fly to Sydney the night before, stay overnight somewhere, spend $100 in taxi fares, and leave for Nadi the next day; whereas this flight just leaves me sitting in Sydney airport reading a book or a magazine..... I am very happy.
I have also managed a free flight on frequent flyers - something I have never done before.
I have also organised 4 nights at the Quest Appartments in Suva, where Chita and I will behave like an old married couple. We go shopping for meals at the supermarket, have dinner together and watch tv or go to the movies...domestic bliss.
Its all turning out better than I had hoped.
I have had friends through this blogsite who have gone to Fiji and met Chita. He is always there with a smile, and happy to talk. I miss hanging out with him. I used to walk up to the shop every morning for a coffee, a chat, and breakfast if I was lucky. He makes great Fijian pancakes.
I love the heat, I miss that tropical vista which is always so beautiful and appealing. I miss being warm to my bones. Winter in Tassie is cold, and my body doesn't like it, as my physio can attest.
Chita decided to text me yesterday morning at 5.30 am and wake me up.... he knows I am not a morning person, whereas he is. He opens his eyes, leaps out of bed, checks on the weather for the day, has a shower immediately and then starts making coffee (one good thing I have taught him) while I usually roll over... I was lying in the dark waiting for the sun to rise, while he was sitting on the deck, full sunlight on a warm sunny day in Fiji, asking me questions about our holiday. He needs a day off, he told me - a sign of a lot of physically demanding hard work.
He has been extending the shop for the last couple of weeks. He is adding a room with a bathroom which I have been dreaming of, for about a couple of years.... so I can't wait to see his handywork. Last time I rang there were discussions about the toilet and shower - we want to minimise impact on the reef.
I rang him last night to tell him what I have organised for our short week in Fiji together, and he was lying in the hammock, with his bible, looking for strength. I am very proud of his dedication, determination and persistence.
A long distance relationship tests all your fears. I know he loves me. I know I love him. I used to wonder if he would be tempted by other women,but now I don't go there. Our relationship is built on trust.
I have seen the way some Fijian men behave, and I don't like it. Treat others the way you wish to be treated is my mantra. I think that working on creating a line of communication which bridged both our cultures, and gave us a way to talk to each other openly and honestly was the only way we were going to overcome continual cultural misunderstandings,and perceived bad behaviour from two cultures. I ignore village law, and he sometimes behaves like an Fijian male who does what he likes.... to be railed in and reprimanded occasionally. Its not easy. I sometimes find it hard to be calm. He used to walk off on me and come back four hours later, now the turn around is around 1-3 minutes. He still walks off, but calms himself down, and comes back in to talk.
I have had friends dying lately; I have had friends breaking up with their marriages and here we are dreaming of having a life together. It feels strange. I thought I would be married in my 20's it never happened. I could have married the first boy who asked me, but he has a bland palate and we would never have lasted. I could have married a Sicilian, but I would be living in a boring suburb of Milan, putting up with his awful family. Instead I am a grown up, wanting a life with a Fijian male, who is gentle, kind and loyal- something I could never have imagined...
But life is never dull for me. I face problems, most people don't, I am learning about another culture I knew little or nothing about. Its made me political. I was hoping the Rudd government would bring about serious changes to our migration policy but he has already excluded Fiji from the Pacific Seasonal workers scheme. I hate bureaucracy - six months to process a fiance visa!! Australia's reaction to the December coup 2006 was way out - it was not a violent coup. Considering how long we have been dealing with Fiji, you would think our goverment would understand the tribal nature influencing pacific governance and be a bit more tolerant. I am warming up to an article in one of the major papers on life in Fiji today.....
I have become more adventurous recently in booking flights and accomodation online. I used Wotif.com for a week at Mana island in January which was great. I have used LastMinute.com to book four nights at the Quest appartments in Suva twice now. I used travel.com to book my flight to Fiji. Its all very interesting. I went to Air Pacific website and couldn't find a cheap deal, then through an online wholesaler I have done good. Its worth a try.
I told my brother that I can save him heaps next year if he wants a holiday on Castaway again - I can organise flights, accomodation,transfers, and a stay over night in Nadi - all online. Who needs a travel agent I say?
The only issue with booking online are the conditions for change. If you book with an airline, you have the opportunity to change with specific fares, with online bookings with wotif, last minute, Asia Hotels, Hotels.com etc there are charges to making a change. However, I saved myself money this trip, but more than that I saved time. I am leaving on Friday September 5th on an early flight to Sydney, and flying out at one o'clock on an afternoon flight to Nadi. Usually with Virgin Blue I have to fly to Sydney the night before, stay overnight somewhere, spend $100 in taxi fares, and leave for Nadi the next day; whereas this flight just leaves me sitting in Sydney airport reading a book or a magazine..... I am very happy.
I have also managed a free flight on frequent flyers - something I have never done before.
I have also organised 4 nights at the Quest Appartments in Suva, where Chita and I will behave like an old married couple. We go shopping for meals at the supermarket, have dinner together and watch tv or go to the movies...domestic bliss.
Its all turning out better than I had hoped.
I have had friends through this blogsite who have gone to Fiji and met Chita. He is always there with a smile, and happy to talk. I miss hanging out with him. I used to walk up to the shop every morning for a coffee, a chat, and breakfast if I was lucky. He makes great Fijian pancakes.
I love the heat, I miss that tropical vista which is always so beautiful and appealing. I miss being warm to my bones. Winter in Tassie is cold, and my body doesn't like it, as my physio can attest.
Chita decided to text me yesterday morning at 5.30 am and wake me up.... he knows I am not a morning person, whereas he is. He opens his eyes, leaps out of bed, checks on the weather for the day, has a shower immediately and then starts making coffee (one good thing I have taught him) while I usually roll over... I was lying in the dark waiting for the sun to rise, while he was sitting on the deck, full sunlight on a warm sunny day in Fiji, asking me questions about our holiday. He needs a day off, he told me - a sign of a lot of physically demanding hard work.
He has been extending the shop for the last couple of weeks. He is adding a room with a bathroom which I have been dreaming of, for about a couple of years.... so I can't wait to see his handywork. Last time I rang there were discussions about the toilet and shower - we want to minimise impact on the reef.
I rang him last night to tell him what I have organised for our short week in Fiji together, and he was lying in the hammock, with his bible, looking for strength. I am very proud of his dedication, determination and persistence.
A long distance relationship tests all your fears. I know he loves me. I know I love him. I used to wonder if he would be tempted by other women,but now I don't go there. Our relationship is built on trust.
I have seen the way some Fijian men behave, and I don't like it. Treat others the way you wish to be treated is my mantra. I think that working on creating a line of communication which bridged both our cultures, and gave us a way to talk to each other openly and honestly was the only way we were going to overcome continual cultural misunderstandings,and perceived bad behaviour from two cultures. I ignore village law, and he sometimes behaves like an Fijian male who does what he likes.... to be railed in and reprimanded occasionally. Its not easy. I sometimes find it hard to be calm. He used to walk off on me and come back four hours later, now the turn around is around 1-3 minutes. He still walks off, but calms himself down, and comes back in to talk.
I have had friends dying lately; I have had friends breaking up with their marriages and here we are dreaming of having a life together. It feels strange. I thought I would be married in my 20's it never happened. I could have married the first boy who asked me, but he has a bland palate and we would never have lasted. I could have married a Sicilian, but I would be living in a boring suburb of Milan, putting up with his awful family. Instead I am a grown up, wanting a life with a Fijian male, who is gentle, kind and loyal- something I could never have imagined...
But life is never dull for me. I face problems, most people don't, I am learning about another culture I knew little or nothing about. Its made me political. I was hoping the Rudd government would bring about serious changes to our migration policy but he has already excluded Fiji from the Pacific Seasonal workers scheme. I hate bureaucracy - six months to process a fiance visa!! Australia's reaction to the December coup 2006 was way out - it was not a violent coup. Considering how long we have been dealing with Fiji, you would think our goverment would understand the tribal nature influencing pacific governance and be a bit more tolerant. I am warming up to an article in one of the major papers on life in Fiji today.....
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Good and Bad News!
I have been super optimistic lately, not fretting, not thinking negative thoughts. Chita has been up to Suva a few times to push his medical, x-ray and today his police clearance. It appears to be moving forward.
In my mind I had visualised his arrival as September/October and now I have a letter from the Department stating our visa will take 6 months so the interview date is, wait for it, the 9th of December 2008. Blimey. I knew it could take 4- 10 months so its exactly in between.
Part of me feels like going to Fiji and getting married, but that would upset the visa process and who knows how much longer we would have to wait....
I am philosophical about it, but I am also thinking, six months without seeing Chita. I don't think so. I have just forked out for an appartment, now have regular bills, and am trying to set up something for us here, and today I have been scrabbling around on the internet trying to find cheap fares from Hobart to Nadi and back. I have been working out my pay to see if I have enough money to go. Not really. Chita wants a holiday but no funds available.
Will he have the room on the shop built? Maybe, maybe not. A week at his mum's... will mean having to incorporate village festivities and responsibilities into our week and I don't want to.
Will wait for a miracle on wotif.com or lastminute.com.
Good news is that we have found a couple to look after the shop if Chita ever gets to Australia. An Italian friend of ours, who I had wanted to work with last year, has just lost her guest house - no lease, five years of renovation and maintenance and now the wily Indian owner wants to sell and she has no money to buy....
Business is very risky in Fiji.
Anyhow, I had discussed my wood fired oven idea- making our own bread, pizza and cakes and selling to passing traffic- and maybe it could just work. A contract is required I told Chita, and he agreed.
So much for us building a house in Fiji, working in Australia, travelling around Tassie together, and then further afield to Japan, where Chita lived off and on for three years, and back to Sicily for me.... in September 2009 would be nice.
Am applying for jobs, with a higher salary and more senior role to cope with this constant drain on my resources. At present I get to see my love, my partner, for 1-2 weeks every three months..... no wonder people give up... am I insane? am I enjoying this torture on some level? what am I getting out of it? not a lot at present....i know how African refugees feel. This is madness!
Our official letter requesting extra information was wrong - they had ticked the wrong boxes. I hope it is sent to Australia and processed here, otherwise with Fiji time, who knows how long it will take.... my patience is wearing thin...
In my mind I had visualised his arrival as September/October and now I have a letter from the Department stating our visa will take 6 months so the interview date is, wait for it, the 9th of December 2008. Blimey. I knew it could take 4- 10 months so its exactly in between.
Part of me feels like going to Fiji and getting married, but that would upset the visa process and who knows how much longer we would have to wait....
I am philosophical about it, but I am also thinking, six months without seeing Chita. I don't think so. I have just forked out for an appartment, now have regular bills, and am trying to set up something for us here, and today I have been scrabbling around on the internet trying to find cheap fares from Hobart to Nadi and back. I have been working out my pay to see if I have enough money to go. Not really. Chita wants a holiday but no funds available.
Will he have the room on the shop built? Maybe, maybe not. A week at his mum's... will mean having to incorporate village festivities and responsibilities into our week and I don't want to.
Will wait for a miracle on wotif.com or lastminute.com.
Good news is that we have found a couple to look after the shop if Chita ever gets to Australia. An Italian friend of ours, who I had wanted to work with last year, has just lost her guest house - no lease, five years of renovation and maintenance and now the wily Indian owner wants to sell and she has no money to buy....
Business is very risky in Fiji.
Anyhow, I had discussed my wood fired oven idea- making our own bread, pizza and cakes and selling to passing traffic- and maybe it could just work. A contract is required I told Chita, and he agreed.
So much for us building a house in Fiji, working in Australia, travelling around Tassie together, and then further afield to Japan, where Chita lived off and on for three years, and back to Sicily for me.... in September 2009 would be nice.
Am applying for jobs, with a higher salary and more senior role to cope with this constant drain on my resources. At present I get to see my love, my partner, for 1-2 weeks every three months..... no wonder people give up... am I insane? am I enjoying this torture on some level? what am I getting out of it? not a lot at present....i know how African refugees feel. This is madness!
Our official letter requesting extra information was wrong - they had ticked the wrong boxes. I hope it is sent to Australia and processed here, otherwise with Fiji time, who knows how long it will take.... my patience is wearing thin...
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