So... One of the other trainees in the group has compiled a bunch of awesome videos of our journey here at this site: http://peacecorpsfijibubbamichelle.blogspot.com/2010/06/video-documentation-enjoy.html

I may be included in some of these videos (not guaranteed) but regardless he has documented some cool stuff that we have all been experiencing in our time here. Check it out.

Things are good here on the other side of the world…

It is finally Fijian winter which is amazing weather…70s pretty much all day and a great cool breeze. I’ve been happily wearing the same things I’ve been wearing my entire stay here just without the joy of sweating. The Fijians on the other hand are freezing their buns off. My mom wears a fleece all day except midday. The other day I saw someone in a winter jacket. A half an hour ago I noticed the neighbor kids dressed after their bath in long sleeves and long pants. Just after thinking how hot I would be if that were me, I saw their mother put thick fleece robes on each of them. I guess this all starts from a young age since even when it’s hot here I see babies bundled up with hats and booties on.

So, two weekends ago I had my first bout of sickness here on the islands. For sure it was Dengue…so I thought. I mean, what else gives you a horrible headache, sore throat, and fever. Alas, it was a throat infection and I’m happy to say that, after a good dose of antibiotics, I’m fine. I was dreading my first sickness here because I thought for sure I would be miserable the entire time. However, I pretty much did exactly what I do in the states when I’m sick. I layed on the couch and I watched TV. My mom made me homemade chicken noodle soup (with no bones which is glorious and unheard of for Fijian chicken dishes). My uncle got me milo (hot chocolate) and I had lots of juice and water. The only things that were missing I’m sorry to say were Gatorade and chocolate ice cream. I can’t wait to gorge myself on some good chocolate ice cream next time I’m in the states because even when I’m in town they only have packaged stuff. Through this experience I also found my new ridiculous addiction – Philippino sitcoms…to be more specific – Ysabella. Fijians are also obsessed with it and since my sickness I have spent countless hours watching about 10 seasons worth of Ysabella’s subtitles. And…it’s all about some stupid stolen family chicken recipe. Also, why Fijians are watching so much Philippino tv is beyond me. The only Philippino I’ve met here just so happens to be another Peace Corps Trainee. Furthermore, Fijians in villages like the one I’m in now are super hush-hush about lesbians and gays…but this doesn’t stop their obsession with Ysabella which has an openly lesbian lead character. And the contradictions continue………



Now that I’ve told you about my sickness I will proceed to tell you why I got sick…as explained by my mom. The night I got sick I walked home on the new road that just got cleared into the village. On this road there is a mango tree about halfway down that when you pass, you “must” keep your head lowered and keep quiet. Apparently the devil lives there (no I’m not making this up or exaggerating). And, because I walked past that tree at night, I got sick. This is one of many reasons I was told I got sick. Another reason is that my head got damp one day when it was raining on my way to school. Why is getting your head damp on your way to school bad, and washing your head and soaking it in water is not? What????? And, lastly (although I’m sure there were more speculations about why I got sick) I cannot begin to tell you how many times it was suggested by my mom, uncles, cousins, random community members that the change in the weather caused my sickness (i.e. the change from 80 degrees to 72). The funny thing is, every time someone suggested an archaic or lialia (crazy) explanation I explained that, “No I have a throat infection…I’m fairly certain that I got it from the other trainee I sat next to on the bus home who was also sick with the same symptoms.” BUT…I am lialia…apparently.

Speaking of lialia… We had culture training on Tuesday and we covered the Fijian marriage procedure. The first option (which they claimed was archaic and not utilized) was for men who are not apt with speaking to women on their own and therefore need some help with finding a wife. The unwanted women would simply line up across from the unwanted men and the women would roll an orange one-by-one. Whoever it rolled to was your future husband. Good thing they don’t have casinos here because what a gamble! The second option seemed to be great in the beginning of the explanation (at least compared to orange rolling) and is commonly practiced in villages today. The man offers grog to the woman’s family to ask permission to marry her. If they say yes, he proposes to her and they get married. Sounds completely normal right? Then on the wedding night, the couple is given an area in a home surrounded by masi (chiefly or special occasion fabric) and the bedding is new. Village women and female family members on the man’s side sleep outside the area and “listen” (seriously…). The next morning, the family members check the bedding for a stain and rejoice and celebrate if there is one (i.e. their boy hooked a virgin). The girl’s family listens for the rejoicing too… Talk about pressure. And…talk about pressure only put on the woman and not the man. If it’s this or orange rolling, give me the oranges!!!!!!! “Luckily” you can elope and avoid all this. However, if you elope, the man has to go to the woman’s family and present (yes you guessed it) grog and apologize for “taking” the woman. We were also told that in Fijian culture when a husband dies the woman loses her power and purpose and that the sole purpose for her was to serve her husband. Bubble, bubble, bubble goes my blood. As cool as this culture is in some ways, I’m sooooo glad I’m an American.

So, I get to learn how to fish with a hand line this Saturday so I’m hoping I catch something delicious. Wish me luck. I have to learn so I can feed myself with delicious fish once I’m at my permanent site.

Speaking of permanent sites... This Sunday I head to a suburb of Suva called Lami. I get to stay in a real hotel with showers that actually work and put out hot water. As if this wasn’t exciting enough, the hotel has A/C and a bar! We have a conference to meet the volunteers who came last year and to get some training done. Monday night we find out where we will be placed permanently. During my interviews for my site placement I emphasized my goal of working in an area that needs marine conservation, ecotourism advice, and environmental education. Secondarily I plan on starting a girls’ club. I have a few more ideas in the works but more to come on them later. The only leading question directed to me was whether or not I would be ok traveling in small fiberglass boats. I’m hesitant to say this but, I could be one of three volunteers going to the Yasawas. This name might not be familiar to you however, that 1980 film Blue Lagoon with Brooke Shields, yeah they filmed that there. Please see below photo:


Now before you write me off as vacationing in the islands…remember, there will be no pina coladas and probably not electricity or reliable water supply. Also, I could be completely wrong with this guess, but I’m just hoping.

We recently had a province-wide fundraiser in town and I attended the opening ceremonies. This basically consisted of sheds set up for each village and a big raised shed with beautiful decoration of fabric and plant materials for the chief (also masi – that fabric I mentioned earlier for weddings). The woman chief of the Rewan province (who is super cool) showed up and got out of the SUV with traditional warriors waiting to escort her with clubs and spears. I’m still trying to figure out where I can get one of these awesome clubs which date back to when they were killing people with them just before they ate them. I know that’s graphic…but how much cooler would that be than a baseball bat for warding off intruders. Can anyone guess what the next step in the opening ceremony was? Yes…GROG. They made offerings to the chief which included a whole Yaqona tree (grog tree), a feast of food, and a whales tooth (which is prized in this culture). Then they drank..talked..and she left. Later on in the day some trainees in my group performed a meke in front of the chief and the whole crowd. They even made the paper. Check out the photos below:
The chief arriving with her warriors
Traditional Grog ceremony for the chief
Another Trainee and I hanging out at Rewa Day
Getting ready to play instruments during the PC meke performance
The Trainees who danced the meke in front of the chief

The other night I learned how to make roti and pumpkin curry. HOW DELICIOUS!!! It is super easy. You all should try it! Just crush up 4 or 5 cloves of garlic and 3 or 4 little tiny but spicy chilis. Sauté them in oil with one chopped up white onion. Clean out a pumpkin and then take the skin off, then you can use a grater to make hash brown size shreds and just add it to the pot. Stir every 5 minutes for 15 to 25 minutes until it’s mushy. You can also add curry powder if you want but it’s good without it. Then… eat it with roti. Roti are these Indian tortilla type things. All you do is mix together flour and water and a little salt (not sure of the proportions – just til it’s doughy…). Roll out the balls of dough until they are just short of paper thin (flattened they should be about 6-8 inch squares). Cook them on a skillet or heated pan (you can use cooking spray). Chances are if you come visit, you will be eating this. Here is a photo of my Nana Akata (Aunt Akata) and I making roti in my :


Also…I tried to wear a shirt the other day and found that a mud wasp made a nest on it…and apparently this is normal here…and no big deal.
And so…I will leave you with a photo of my host mom and I in matching pink sulu jabas. Laugh now…while I can’t retaliate:

Crazy days in Fiji

Ok…where do I even begin…

I’m healthy, minus some bug bites…eating well…and generally happy!

I’m living in a small village called Nukutubu about an hour from the capital in the Rewa province. I live about 20 yards from the river and the breeze from the water makes the heat and bugs bearable for the most part (mind you we are in the dry/cool/less mosquito-ey season)… I’m living in the same town as a guy from Albuquerque, a guy from New York, a guy from North Carolina, and a young married couple from Minnesota.

The night we got here (almost two weeks ago) they had community members and our family members gathered in the community hall down by the water. As we entered they played guitars and homemade drums and sang a welcome song in a mix of Fijian and English. Just expect that a general theme of this blog will be grog also known as yaqona or kava. In typical Fijian fashion we were prompted to give our offering of kava after they began the sevu sevu (kava welcome ceremony). This just so happened to be our 3^rd or 4^th ceremony despite being in Fiji for less than a week (yeah the Fijians are addicted). So the protocol during any grog session is to give the first bowl of grog to the eldest visitor, then to the community leader and then to the rest of the male visitors, then to the female visitors, then to the rest of the community. I was fully aware of this and was prepared to swallow my feminist pride and drink after the boys. I looked at my teacher as the third bowl was being handed out and she was trying to tell me something. In my state of nervousness I thought she was trying to tell me to signal (clap) that I wanted to have the next bilo (bowl) so I clapped and luckily the community just laughed and gave me a bilo before the last of the boys. After consuming the appropriate amount of grog, we were formally introduced to our host families who greeted us with necklaces made of flowers and leaves and a bunch of islandy floral fabric (mine just so happened to be bright pink – story of my life).

My host family is pretty small – my host mom also known as my qai (Rewan dialect for mom, pronounced “gay”…I know…pretty funny…) is a widow and she lives in a pretty big concrete block house with her brother my momo (uncle). Some of her brothers live in the houses surrounding ours and everyone in the community is related somehow. A lot of the time my other momo and his wife will come in from the farm for dinner and my nana (aunt) comes in from across the river sometimes for dinner.

photo: my host mom dancing with Connor, another Trainee

Thankfully…I have electricity. There are two outlets, one in the living room and one in the kitchen. I also have city water coming in from Nausori but the pipes are too small and the pressure isn’t enough to get the water up the pipe and through the shower head so we take bucket baths…and I might not even need to say this but there is definitely no hot water heater.

I’ve got my own room with the necessary mosquito net that I like to think of as my princess canopy….but somehow I still get feasted on on a regular basis.

Also, I got a cell phone!! My number is 011.679.864.7168. I would love to hear from anyone!!! Marissa found a pretty decent deal on calling cards so if you feel so inclined then give her a call to get the info. I suppose now is a good time to remind you all that I am 16 hours ahead of you so it is 6:15 pm on Wednesday as I write this and it is 2:14 am on Wednesday morning for you. It is so strange to me that I have now completed my Wednesday as you are beginning it…but…that’s how it goes. That said, the best times to call me (eastern standard time) are at 6pm, 8:30 pm, and at 1:30 am. I realize that 1:30 am may not be a popular hour to call me but I thought that I could sacrifice myself if any of you decide to do some drunk dialing seeing as it will only be 5:30 pm here.

The food has actually been pretty good. I’m still a little squeamish when a whole fried fish gets put on my plate especially since I know it’s coming from the river where they throw their trash and they wash away their pig poop from the pig sties (conveniently placed directly over a tidal creek). But I’ve had some really delicious stuff. I’m addicted to papaya, my momo went to the ocean last week and caught trevally which was amazing, and when I’m feeling fed up with Fijian food there tends to be a pack of oreo-like sandwich cookies and cold milk ready for me (my host mom is pretty cool).

On another note…I think I’m officially more Catholic here than I have been in the last 5 years at home. So far I’ve been to two church services (Saturday AND Sunday), live directly across from the village church, and have said grace more times than I can remember. However, in terms of religions here the Catholic Church is one of the milder ones, and at least mass is short and reminds me of home. My qai is a devout Catholic who is involved in pretty much every church function.

Every Thursday we go into town for “Center day” where we have training and get a chance to eat some “western” food for lunch. Our first day there I ravenously ate an XL pizza with another girl from the class. This pizza was glorious…and despite its glory, was comparable to the worst pizza in the USA. So…all you Gainesvillians who still have access to Satchel’s and Leo’s…think of me next time you bite into a delicious, cheesy, flavor-filled bite of pizza.

So comparable to the odds of my brother Kevin randomly seeing our cousin Katherine at the Paris airport once…I am randomly here with a family friend. IT IS SUCH A SMALL WORLD!!! This guy Dick who is training in my group and living in Nausori with his host family just so happens to be the uncle to a few of Kevin’s best friends from growing up. AND…he used to be a State Farm agent and therefore is friends with my godparents and godbrother. Who would have thought that I would have actually kinda-sorta known someone coming to Fiji!?

I’m really excited because Dick and I are taking a break from village life…and more specifically fish, skirts (guys wear skirts too sometimes), kava, and non air conditioned buildings…to go into Suva on Saturday to eat, watch a movie, and have a delicious frothy beer. The funny thing about Fiji is that they are literally 50 years behind the USA in gender roles and in intoxicants. The gender roles are obvious but…. Kava is a widely accepted way to get “doped up” as they say. Drinking kava occurs on weekdays, weekends, family functions, community meetings, welcoming guests, saying thank-you, resolving an argument…you name it…there’s kava. They even had a kava ceremony for the visiting Catholic priest this last Saturday. On the other hand…liquor and beer are serious taboos here unless you are in a city or it’s a very special occasion. Just me mentioning that I drink beer in a very rural, conservative village (more rural than here) setting is a serious no-no. Granted, it’s getting better but still.

On a side note…I’m not sure if my mom can come visit me. You can have constant entertainment here by playing a little game I like to call “Spot the geckos” (this of course is a game you can play right in your living room…WOW!! **as if said in a commercial). If you haven’t found at least 10 then you are not done!

SO…back to the gender roles (which really apply in the village only). I’ve worn shorts twice. Skirts are absolutely necessary and go just below the knee or longer. Women sit in the back during kava ceremonies and get served last. In general, women don’t really hold any position of power unless they are born into it (for example there is a woman chief in this province) and even then the chiefly system is archaic and they have little ultimate decision making ability. I was told that I could not husk a coconut (and proceeded to do so faster than the boys) and in general women are expected not to do hard manual labor outside. Of course there are exceptions to these statements. SO…any feminists out there…I’m expecting some inspiring feminist quotes in the comment section. It’s kind of tough now too because I’m only in this community for 6 more weeks and don’t feel that that is enough time to productively push the boundary on gender…HOWEVER…just wait until I get to my permanent site.

There are so many stories to tell and I can’t possibly tell them all… I will leave you with some photos. Some are from the first few days here at a training site in Nadave. And the rest are from my village during culture day when every trainee came to our village, ate food that our moms’ prepared, watched us perform the meke (local dance), and watched us demonstrate how to make coconut milk (lolo). Here are a few photos to tide you over until I can get a photobucket page up:

My roommates for the first few days at Nadave training center.

Doing our meke (local dance) for the other trainees during our village culture day.

More meke...

husking a coconut in record time...

and the general theme of this blog:

GROG...