Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Time Warp

Did you know Fiji's right on the international date line?  Well, on the 180th meridian, anyway.  In fact there's a tiny corner in the east of my island, Vanua Levu, where it is permanently yesterday.  Actually the date line was moved in this area of the South Pacific and now passes to the east of Fiji, it kind of jogs around Fiji and Tonga the same way it does to the west of the Aleutian Islands in Alaska, but some of the maps show the dateline going right through the island.  In any case, Fiji is supposed to have the first sunrise in the world, though I think it's a silly thing to boast about (Kiribati - pronounced KIRR-i-bas by the way - moved the dateline to ITS east in 1998 or so and now has the first sunrise rather than the last).


While Fiji may be big on it’s premier sunrise location, on the things Fijians are not big on is punctuality.  They call the standard tardiness “Fiji Time.”  But tardiness isn’t the point.  The point is that there are things that are more important than being on time.  Plus, there isn’t much to do today that couldn’t really be done tomorrow, so too brief encounters with friends and relatives or hurrying off to be in another place are unnecessary.
This is something the new Country Director of Peace Corps – Fiji realizes.  He came up north recently to talk with the volunteers and the divisional heads of various government departments.  He kept his schedule very flexible and stressed to the volunteers that he may not arrive on time, depending on whether there were customs he needed to observe (drinking grog) at other sites.  As far as I know he was on time everywhere, but I’ve heard there have been other Peace Corps staff that have missed meetings altogether because of such customs and the notion of Fiji Time. 
At a tikina meeting (like a meeting of all the mayors in a county hearing about goings on at the national level) I was sitting with a newly appointed Roko (a representative from the National Government to the people at the local level) and he told me that he enjoyed the drinking grog and socializing part of the meeting best because he could get to better understand the people.  He mentioned that because of this part of the meeting they never knew when they would get home.  They could drink yaqona for half and hour or for three hours – but they weren’t doing nothing.  At the time I was a little antsy, however, because I was getting a ride with the Rokos to Savusavu where there was a Rotary Club meeting I needed to be at.  In the end everything worked out and I realized I just needed to embrace another Fijian truism: “Maka Leka” or no worries (No wonder “Hakuna Matata” plays constantly on the radio here). 
But it is difficult for me to give up my notions of finite time.  This, I believe, has much to do with latitude (and climate and other stuff…) Besides in the cities and towns where people have schedules, jobs and deadlines, time passes quite differently in Fiji than it does anywhere I’ve been.  Days seem to roll into one another; weeks and months glide by without being accounted for.  And suddenly I’ve been in Fiji for six months.  It’s my theory that being so close to the equator and with no real distinction between seasons (at least not like the planting, growing, harvest and rest cycle of the North) and with the same staple foods available year round, it would be easy to oblivious of time.  If food is available, if you have no need to make stores for the winter and if everything is good – then there is really nothing that NEEDS to be done at any given time, nothing that couldn’t wait a day, a week, a month or 15 years (which is how long it took to build the church in the village).  And so Fiji Time is born.
Being from a land twice as far from the equator with distinct seasons, time here feels stale as if it has been summer too long.  And I feel like I’m constantly waiting for fall.  Yesterday I heard a Christmas song on the radio and was shocked to realize the holidays are right around the corner despite having Thanksgiving plans for next week.  I’m not sure if time here sneaks up on Fijians as it does me.  But as far as I know there are not traditional seasonal celebrations (at least there weren’t before Methodists brought Christmas and Easter).  It leaves me wondering what time was like in Fiji before Europeans brought their calendars with them.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

The Gourmet Meal for the Peace Corps Volunteer


What a lovely Sunday evening!  Breezy cool weather, quiet in the village, great songs on the radio and delicious seared tuna with a pineapple teriyaki sauce and a citrus cocktail.  Ok – it’s orange crystal lite, but I really did have sushi grade skip jack tuna for dinner.  This is how it happened:
One day in Savusavu I talked to a guy who was having trouble printing something from his iPad (not a Fijian).  Turns out he (Jeff) and his wife (Susan) are from New Mexico and live near my village, well, a long walk away involving swimming across the mouth of the largest river on the island, but close.  They gave me the business card for their guesthouse.
Besides seeing Susan once from the bus I didn’t see them again for four months.  In the meantime I planted a decent garden and built and stocked an AWESOME kitchen (by Fijian bure standards).
Last week another PCV and I finished a proposal for improving the library at our local school and wanted to present it to the Savusavu Rotary Club.  It turned out that they weren’t having their weekly meeting but a party instead and we were invited.  Of course we saw Jeff and Susan there.  In fact they invited me to come over some time and also offered advice and help on a couple of projects I’ve been contemplating.
In typical fashion, it was only when I got home from the party that I found my parents had emailed the dates they were thinking of visiting (they had wanted to stay with me in the village for a week, but I wanted them to stay at Susan and Jeff’s guesthouse… for innumerable reasons…).  I ended up calling Susan about dates the next day and she repeded her invitation to come over.  I, of course, took her up.
And o it was that Bubba and Michelle (the two PCVs from neighboring Wailevu Village) accompanied me in swimming across the river and trekking (literally through the jungle at one point) to Susan and Jeff’s.  Their property is as different from the village as you can get and I’m very happy that I’ve convinced my parents to stay there!  Plus Susan and Jeff are great hosts.  Before we left (to go home the right way – which does not involve trekking through the jungle) they’d invited us on a deep water fishing trip the next day.  I had to decline, but Bubba and Michelle went and this afternoon they stopped by with their catch – 4 skip jack tuna!
After a quick fillet lesson Bubba left me with one fillet of tuna – much more than I can handle in a night – but the cooked fish should last until tomorrow morning (I hope).  Bubba and Michelle had sushi for dinner, but I didn’t have wasabi or pickled ginger or mirin for the rice, so I improvised with some leftover pineapple from lunch and concocted a lovely teriyaki sauce.  It would have been even better on a bed of brown rice and with a different vegetable, but the only thing I had in the garden was green beans.  It sufficed.  Yeah, I’ve had better seared tuna, but I’ve never had a more gourmet meal in Fiji!
This is the kind of thing that makes me think I don’t have the stereotypical Peace Corps experieonce.  I may live in a rural village, but I have the opportunity to meet up with generous expats (whom support Peace Corps projects) whenever I feel like it.  Just living so close to other Peace Corps Volunteers is unusual, too, and I feel spoiled.  But I feel like it’s also affecting the way I integrate into my village.  On the other hand… if there wasn’t a generous local Rotary Club I wouldn’t be able to apply for assistance improving the school library or to pick their brains about previous projects that are similar to things we’re working on in the village.  So I continue working on integration and maintain my friendships with my fellow kaivalagi (foreign people), too.
Bubba With a Skip Jack Tuna

Friday, November 4, 2011

Halloween


What do you think it’s like never to have experienced Halloween?  Is it like never having seen the ocean or snow?  No, I don’t think so, because most people know those exist even if they haven’t seen them.  It’s probably more like me never having heard of Diwali (see previous post).  And I think that’s even better because when you do find out about it you are filled with wonder at all of the other awesome things that probably exist that you know nothing about.  It makes you want to explore!  Or – it would make me want to explore, anyway.
The children in my Saturday Kid’s Club had never heard of Halloween.  I spent a week trying to build hype about costumes and lollies.  Still, I wasn’t sure how it would go over, as they didn’t have much time to get costumes together.  I went out and bought candy and pumpkins in Savusavu (if any of you have ever carried two big pumpkins plus candy and other stuff for half a mile on a dirt road, I applaud you.  It’s hard work!).  I gathered knives and basins, I passed out candy to ladies in four houses and I hoped I was ready.
Pumpkins Pre-Carving
At 8 in the morning Saki came by and asked, “It’s ok I wear girls sulu (clothes)?”  “Yeah, of course, that’s great!” I said.  “I’m going to be a pufta!” he added, excitedly.  Wow – a little more wild than dressing as a girl, he was going to be a transvestite.  I’ll have to tell you all about puftas sometime.
Anyway, I emerged onto my steps at 9:55AM and children were milling about in all kinds of costumes waiting impatiently for Halloween to start.  I started snapping photos of my favorite costumes and, as always happens when a camera is around, they mobbed me.  Here are a few good costumes.




Then it was pumpkin carving time.  I showed how to cut the tops and scrape out the guts.  They took it from there – basing the faces on drawings each group had (one by me and two copies by some industrious girls).  There were rookie mistakes, like getting the mouths too low on the pumpkin, but it didn’t matter, later that day I passed out the pumpkins to some families and they were turned into soups and curries.





From carving we headed off to trick-or-treat.  I gave them two rules, knock and say, “trick-or-treat.”  I should have given them more.  It’s one thing to dole out candy to 5 or 6 kids at a time over the course of an evening.  It’s something entirely different to organize 40 screaming kids in order to give out candy without being bowled over!




Everybody got candy, though, and everyone had a great time.  Saki’s pufta costume was admired by all as the best costume.
Saki on a normal day
And then on Halloween












There will be adjustments next year – more organization, more pumpkins, more candy and a costume contest!  I know it’s a year away, but I can’t wait!!

Can you tell what my costume was?


Thursday, November 3, 2011

Diwali Day - or - Why Labasa Rocks


I know some of you (probably most of you) have never heard of Diwali.  I had no idea that it existed before I came to Fiji, which is ridiculous because it’s AWESOME.  But then there are only 10 countries where this festival of lights is an official holiday.  Here in Fiji Diwali is a one-day holiday that signifies the end of the old and the beginning of the new year for Indo-Fijians, but it’s also a religious holiday in honor of Lakshmi.  Even though the holiday is based in Hinduism, in Fiji’s multi-cultural society, most people commemorate the day in some way and everyone enjoys a day off from work.
Diwali Things
 For the Peace Corps Volunteers who had invited me to Labasa, the holiday was very laid back, social and entertaining.  We got up late and struggled to wrap ourselves in sarees until we gave up and went next door to have an expert help us.  Aunti is a cheerful and motherly grade school teachers who looked lovely with her short frame wrapped tidily in a saree.  Her daughter, Jiijii , an enthusiastic teen with her heart set on becoming a doctor, quickly arranged a plate of Indian sweets for Folami and I to snack on as Greta turned and held pleats and was pinned into Indo-Fijian perfection.  I was next and found the process a little daunting.  In fact my saree was one of the most difficult parts of my Diwali as it constantly seemed to be in disarray.  While Folami was being twirled into her lovely attire, we were casually invited to return in the evening to celebrate with the family and we were delighted to add another house to our tour!
The Girls in our Getup
 All gussied up we headed out to our first stop, picking up two more Diwali dressed girls on the way.  Monica hadn’t had help with her saree and forgot the pleats making it almost impossible to walk.  Luckily the daughters at the first house were able to sort her out.  Chris was the luckiest of all wearing a shalwar kameez, a tunic and pants set that is much easier to wear but doesn’t have quite the appeal of being draped in yards upon yards of soft silk (or in this case polyester or something).  We chatted for hours with the family and ate our fill of both the sweets and savories presented.  My favorite is a savory snack  of taro leaves prepared much differently from anything in the village.  Before we could leave we were presented with lunch: potato curry, puris (a small flatbread) and rice with nutrella (a spongy soy product).  It was delicious, but I was already full from the sweets!
After Lunch
We visited four more houses of Greta’s coworkers, neighbors and friends, everywhere happily chatting away, drinking tea or juice and eating sweets and other Indian snacks.  Diwali is more than just food, though.  As the festival of lights, each house is decorated with strands of electric lights (like Christmas lights), candles and tiny oil lamps.  Many houses had rice paintings on the porches where colored rice (died with crepe paper – if you can figure that out) is arranges designs with a lovely simplicity.  In some neighborhoods each house tries to out do the next as there is a competition for the best display.  Everywhere you go the air smells of sulfur and black powder with the hundreds of fireworks going off all around. 
Lighting oil lamps
Rice Design























And the fireworks are GREAT!  There is no organized firework show like we have in the US for the fourth of July, but Fiji doesn’t have the restrictions we have in Oregon, either.  If you have the money you can buy the fireworks to make an awesome show in your own yard.  Little boys hold fireworks that sprout those large twinkly displays that you see over Disneyland and something that seems like just a little twirly thing on the street will suddenly shoot off a major display.  The cab drivers are extra cautious and ask us to roll up the windows, but I’m suddenly hit, again, with my long held secret aspiration to go to China and apprentice myself to a firework master.

Just sitting on the porch of a friendly neighbor’s house bundled up in my disastrously (by now) draped saree, snacking on halua, enchanted by the fireworks, I feel like I am exactly where I should be.  Walking home from the last house, where a newspaper photographer took our picture, I couldn’t help but thinking how much I’d love it if Diwali were everyday.  Of course if that were the case I would never get anything done, would be enormously fat with all the sweets and would always be tripping on my saree!  Still, far and away it was the most fun I’d have in Fiji in a long time – the best festival I’ve seen in my six months here.  Probably one of the best festivals I’ve been included in ANYWHERE!  So if you see me, somewhere down the line, dressed in strange clothes and peddling Indian sweets one day in late October or early November – it must be Diwali – join in and have a great time.

Our Labasa Diwali Adventure