How to make Dominic’s Spicy Fijian Chocolate Cornflake Biscuits

These are the best cookies ever! A family favourite – and a big hit at school for bring and buy!

  1. 3 cups plain flour
  2. 1 and a half cups raw sugar
  3. 1 packet corn chevda (or 1 and a half cups corn flakes, plus half cup peanuts or nuts of choice, and a dash of Chinese five spice, or cinnamon)
  4. 4 tablespoons butter or margarine
  5. 1 tablespoon baking powder
  6. 2 tablespoons milo, vico or ovaltine (or chocolate milk drink powder)
  7. Mix all with your hands until it comes together as a dough.  Roll into balls, place on greased tray, flatten with a fork.
  8. Bake at 200 degrees C for about 10 minutes or until they turn nutty brown
  9. Remove from tray with a spatula while still hot, and place on newspaper to cool
  10. Store in airtight container (will last for about a week out of the fridge, or for a very long time if you store the container in the fridge or freezer)
  11. Makes about 60 cookies.

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Kaitlyn’s Fijian Dahl Soup

Fijian Dahl Soup is a staple for all of us here.  So cheap and tasty, and full of protein.

Method and ingredients:

  1. Choose a heavy based pot if you can, as then the dahl soup won’t stick during the cooking time
  2. Put 1 tablespoon cooking oil on medium heat
  3. Add 1 teaspoon salt, 2 teaspoon tumeric powder (or haldi as it is called in Fiji), half clove garlic, and ginger if you like and stir until combined over the heat. I also like to add pepper.
  4. Add 1 cup dahl peas (yellow split peas) and stir over heat until dahl peas are covered with the oil and spices. When you do this, you don’t have to soak the peas overnight, they will soften quickly
  5. Add 4 cups water and stir until combined.  Put on lid and cook for about half an hour.
  6. Add another cup of water, cook half an hour
  7. Add another cup of water, plus diced carrot, or potato as desired.  Cook another half hour or until the peas are as soft as you like them.
  8. Serve with chopped cilentro (corriander/dahnia) and chilli to taste

Remainder can be stored in the fridge.  When reheating, good idea to add another half cup of water.

Vinaka – Thanks for the reminder that Sports are just Games!

chow 1Recently, I attended the Primary School athletics carnivals in Fiji which were split over three divisions – North, West and Central.  I was struck by the way that even these very young people had so much character.  In Fiji, when accepting anything at all from a superior, it is traditional to make one’s self lower than that person, and clap three times in acceptance of the honour.  Watch how it’s done here.

Time after time, I saw lovely young girls and boys, who in their moment of glory, humbled themselves to accept their medals in the traditional manner.  It brought a tear to my eyes.  I also saw love, friendship and sheer jubilation.  It reminded me of the spirit of sports from when I was a kid.

With the passing of my father recently, it has made me think about many things.  What lessons did he really teach me and why?  What is really his lasting legacy?

Number 1: Education, education, educationchow 2

Number 2: It is your duty in life to care for those who are less able than yourself, whether they are old, young, disabled, sad, or simply not as smart as you are, or able to deal with life’s challenges in the same way

Number 3: Don’t smack your children – it shows them that you are out of control, out of ideas, and beyond the point of reason.  That is not the way to gain their respect.

I try I think to live by these three values.  There are so many more, but these are the ones that keep recurring, and guide me through.

I was reminded of these simple values, and how much they mean to character when I attended the Chow Games.  It was like going back in time to a time where people remembered: SPORTS ARE JUST GAMES.  Competitive, but just fun in the end.

Thank you (Vinaka!!) to the children of Fiji (and their mentors of course) for reminding me of the joy of games, and what can be achieved within the game if you are of strong character.

Zdravstvujtye! (Hello in Russian)

I will remember, with gratitude, your father’s kindness. This was particularly evident the time that Alan was on study leave and I stayed home with the two boys so their schooling would not be interrupted. Albert stressed that he was available as a backup, to help in any emergency. This wasn’t needed, but the knowledge that he was just over the road was a tremendous comfort to me.

Albert was also a good citizen. i remember him, out on the road, in front of the shop sweeping up the glass and debris after an accident.
Before the Five Ways was reconstructed there were many many crashes as cars tried to negotiate a very awkward corner.

My other prominent memory is of Albert’s mischievous glee when he was able to converse with the occasional Russian customer in their own language. He was proud of the fact he could still speak Russian – I think he had learned it at school in Lithuania. Jan and Alan Jones, St Lucia

Cross-Cultural Marriage in the Pacific – One of Life’s Great Adventures, or Train Wreck in Slow Motion?

pole wedding

Source: Time Life Magazine

A while ago I came across this photograph on my Facebook feed.  It looked so intriguing so I read a little about the couple in the picture.  They got married on top of a pole long ago.  Some said that they got divorced, some that the groom died alone in a ramshackle house and that sometimes the local kids used to go and throw rocks at the house “To Kill a Mockingbird Style”.  Whatever happened to the couple in the photo, it got me thinking.  We all start marriage with a sense of thrill, of excitement for the future and a belief that we can, together overcome all odds.  If we didn’t, how would we justify taking that huge leap into the unknown.  The symbolism of the couple married atop a pole symbolized to me the sense of joy, girlish hope and total belief in myself and my bond with another that I felt when I rushed headlong into a cross cultural marriage.  Don’t get me wrong, I thought I knew what I was in for.  It wasn’t my first marriage, and my children were almost all grown up, some having left home years ago.  I thought I had a knowledge of what obstacles come hand in hand with marriage, and was going in with my eyes wide open.  I had a belief in the future, taking on the lessons of the past, but I did truly believe in what I was doing.

One of my dearest friends told me at the time that there may be days that I questioned whether what I had done was wise, but to put on my adventure hat and hold on tight – to enjoy the ride, but knowing it might at times get a little hair-raising.

I realized I thought, that marrying someone from another culture would mean learning and understanding, not just what do, and what not to do, but WHY culturally it would be significant.  I have really worked hard over the last two years to do just that.  I have become involved in a lot of community projects; immersed myself fully in life here.  I have ceased to be merely an observer.  We have a freezer but no fridge, we have internet but no TV, I washed by hand for a year.  I made a chicken house from plastic bottles.  I raise pigs and chickens and we have a dog that came one day and stayed.  I plant my own vegetables.  I don’t have any high heels any more and wear flip flops every day, even to town.  I don’t wear make up.  I have met the High Chief of Bau twice and been to many villages.  My son spends every holiday and most weekends in the village, and speaks Fijian. I understand Fijian but can’t say much. I know how to cook Fijian and Indo-Fijian food, and often get asked about Fijian customs.  I study Fijian history  and culture and maybe know it better than many Fijians. I know how to weave mats.

Have I become a hippie?  No, I have just become Fijian.  However, what I have realized is that no matter how long I stay here, I will never be considered Fijian, even by my husband, or my family here.  I will always be different.  I will never be understood fully, and some things I will never understand.  I don’t mean language – I mean culture.  Actually, the things that I don’t understand are referred to as culture, but I believe that is an incorrect description – they are actions and deeds that hurt and destroy, which because of skin colour and place of birth, are passed off conveniently as “culture”, but bear little resemblance to honoured traditions of the past, or accepted cultural mores of the present.  Tragic human interactions and decisions are dressed up and paraded as culture by those who are uneducated about their own culture, and any other;by those desirous of living a “developed life” and who manipulate the lives of the unwitting or innocent to eek out some perceived gain.  The tragedy is that the gain or advantage dubiously plotted is only a perceived one, one that will never be realized, because those who are fiendish enough to hatch such plots are those who have already led lives of despair and have not the where with all or skill to derive the advantage.  Therefore their lives of despair continue to spiral, generation after generation is disadvantaged through their deception, creating a sub-culture which is then given the haughty and dignified name of “Our Culture”.  This erroneous term is then bandied about with abandon any time that the truth is dared to be spoken, often, with the precursor “You don’t understand (Our Culture)”; “You’ll never understand (Our Culture); “You have no right to comment on (Our Culture)”.  Eventually the offender is not even addressed, just spoken about as if deaf with the damning and sulky lament which trails off…”She’ll never understand (Our Culture), she has no rights, she is not One Of Us, she doesn’t understand The Pacific”, she doesn’t know anything about Me, she doesn’t know anything about Us”, followed by tears, tears, tears, sniff, sniff, sigh.  There also seems to be amongst the people who use these terms and phrases the solid and unwavering belief that white people have no “Culture”, and it then follows naturally that therefore, as they have no culture at all, that they are incapable of understanding any type of cultural interaction at all, let alone those of people of a different colour and place of birth.

To clarify, I enjoy my life here, and am not sure if I fit in with developed life anymore.  Every time I go back “home”, I feel a disconnect.  Living without many things, and no longer feeling the need for them makes me feel overwhelmed when I visit there.  Also, living in a developing country, I see that many of the items that are being marketed here as the trappings of “developed life” and therefore desirable are having such a negative and compounding effect that it makes me question what development should really look like, but who am I to pass judgement?  Families that need assistance for free bus fares for school children (when the bus is only 35 cents) seem to feel that the children must have fizzy drinks in plastic bottles.  That is just the start, and I am sure that if you are a reader of this blog, that you already know my opinions on many things and maybe don’t want to hear them again.

However, recently I took a month off the internet – really and truly, I didn’t look at it at all (I can hear some people gasp from across the oceans).  The world didn’t stop rotating – phew!  I can hear people thinking – WHY did you do that?  The reason I told my family was that it was a month long experiment.  That was a lie.  Actually it was because I got back from visiting my older kids, my friends,  and my elderly dad in Australia.  When I got back, I missed my friends, my kids, and my dad.  I felt sad, very sad.

I felt the most sad because I felt that I was back home in Fiji, but that many things are not as they should be.  Many things happen here, and are disguised or dismissed as ‘culture’.  Actually that is not the case.  Culture is respect for your elders (parents, older relatives, chiefs), and traditions.  Culture may even extend to men drinking yaqona (kava, a traditional ceremonial drink made of plant roots) after work.  Culture may even at a push extend to the relegation of women to being subjugated to men as it was not that long ago that Fijians were a warlike people, with rival tribes often fighting each other, and women needed their men to be strong.

What follows is the events of the past month un-distracted by internet – a look at culture in reality – both good and bad, constructive and destructive, real and imagined.  Much of it is just plain tragic – a train wreck in slow motion, with the outcome and destruction clear, but no one willing or able to stop the horrific carriage crashing into carriage, carnage, debris and chaos.  Of course, this is just my view, and the fact that I may have it all wrong, is the thing that makes me wonder whether I will ever understand this “culture”, or even wish to be part of it, if what I am told is “Pacific Island Culture” is what it really is.  I was hoping that the other parts of the culture that I have been part of were really the culture – you know, the good bits: respect for elders, respect for nature, a connection with the earth and the sea, love of animals, skills and knowledge willingly passed down, traditions.

Last month……

Fijians participated and voted in the first democratic election for eight years, and the first where people didn’t have to line up to vote according to race.  I helped a friend who is a successful young female pig farmer to demonstrate at the local Agriculture show that pigs which are fed on natural foods (vegetable waste from the local municipal markets) grow faster, stronger and healthier that those pigs raised on commercial feed. I made soursop, pawpaw and chili chutney with my daughter. I swapped two of my chickens for a small pig and have been training the pig to walk on a lead when he comes out every day. My dog was poisoned and died a painful death, but then mysteriously a new dog arrived on my porch one day and has never left. I started harvesting corn, tomato, cucumber and pumpkin from my vege patch.  I bought a lot of new chicken hatchlings and they are all growing fast.  The hens layed four eggs every day.  I got invited to a wedding.  We had parent-teacher day and the kids are doing well.  I bought some small trees and found some discarded orchid plants and planted them.  I invented (well kind of) a fridge that doesn’t need electricity which is made from concrete building blocks filled with wet sand and covered with wet hessian bags.  I tested it, taking photographs of three test samples daily, and discovered that vegetables stay fresh in the new fridge for more than 10 days.  I baked some cakes using farm fresh eggs, yoghurt and fresh limes, over at my neighbour’s house using her oven.  My son turned 15 and had a friend over for dinner and cards. I took the kids to the movies. If you are interested in the details of any of the above, then let me know and I can fill you in.

Turns out that after a month not being on the internet I didn’t miss much.  There were hundreds of emails, but most of them were things I had previously subscribed to and I now refer to as “Junk” (funny, because they all seemed interesting when I subscribed).  There were only three Facebook messages for me, and less than ten emails from other friends or colleagues.  Maybe I really am a pain in the proverbial, and that is why people have stopped communicating with me.  Perhaps, as my son might say, they “tire of my shennanigans”.  The only really cool thing I missed was that my son is in a drag competition, and is being hailed as a “true talent”.  I watched the video over and over.   All of the above is normal life, (well, normal life here in Fiji where I don’t have a demanding job like I did way back when), and none of it seems that bad.  Even no-one really worrying about me wasn’t that bad.  I think everyone knows that I am off and on since I got here and are used to it by now.

What really has me in a spin is the other event of the month, a tragedy of what seems to me of epic proportion, with far-reaching consequences.  There is a young girl in the family who has gotten herself into trouble bit by bit, but consistently over the past few years.  It started when she started truanting from school in Australia when she was about 13.  Eventually by the time she was 15 she was only attending school on average one day a month.  When the absentee report from school was requested, it turns out her mother had phoned nearly every day with an excuse.  Actually the reason was that she rarely slept at home by that time, and was going from house to house, staying away from home for weeks at a time and only coming home to refill the contents of her bags and get more money.  Her school reports indicated for most subjects “Not enough evidence to assess” or something like it.   A year ago, that girl came to Fiji with her mother and brother and sister.  At the time she was 16 years old.  After a week, the girl left Fiji with her mother, headed for Samoa, saying that she needed to go there, to meet up with her boyfriend from home, who was also a Samoan citizen.  At the time I predicted that within a year, she would come back pregnant – but that was a bad thing to say, and I was told so. The brother and sister, who had similar problems scholastically, stayed here, and are now passing at school and attending daily.  The girl who left found that very soon after arriving in Samoa to meet the love of her life, he left her, and was gone.  With no access to schooling, she found herself relegated to home duties for a large family, and started saying she wanted to come to Fiji and resume education.  It was agreed.  However, weekly, the arrival date seemed to be changed and over time got more and more remote.  From April to May, to June, to possibly August or September.  It all seemed so strange.

A couple of months ago (when she was just 17 years old) , we got the call, she was pregnant.  After discussion, it was clear that she wanted to keep the baby.  All good.  What to do next would be worked out.  A month ago, on my return to Fiji, I discovered that with only two weeks until the baby’s due date, that the girl had been persuaded to “give” the child when born to the “father’s” family, and was staying in the father’s family home in Samoa with his relatives.  Her mother was absent, saying that she was going to buy baby things.  However, the search for appropriate baby things must have taken her far and wide, as she ended up in American Samoa, and did not return until after the baby was more than a week old, leaving the poor girl alone.

A day after birth, the baby was fed a bottle, the girl being advised that it was “better” for the baby.

The girl is still convinced that it is going to be “better for the baby’s life” that the baby be sent by the end of this month to Australia to live with the baby’s paternal grandmother who apparently is planning to raise it “as if it’s her own”.   The girl has still not bathed the baby, but just observes.  She has been taught that if the baby cries, you have to blow in it’s face to make it quiet.  I suppose there is no real investment in teaching the girl mothering skills if she is soon not to be a mother.  She is still a girl of 17 (soon to be 18).

Distressingly, after being cajoled into releasing the baby to go and live in another country to which she has no access, she is going to be sent to Fiji to apparently resume her schooling.  By that time she will be 18, and will not have attended school on a regular basis or passed many subjects since she was 13.  The “better life” of the child away from its mother, living with a family who are also uneducated is questionable to me.  What is going to make it a better life?  Just because in developed countries there is health care, the dentist, education, pottery class, parent teacher day, the school fete, playgroup, swimming club, or even school for that matter, or whatever is judged to be good for children’s development, it requires the adults of the family to actually take the children to those places for the betterment or benefit to be derived.  If available services are not accessed, they are of no benefit.

The girl is tragically being counseled by her own mother to release the child, who will travel to Australia under a New Zealand passport.  The girl believes that she will see her baby soon.  She believes like many 17 year old girls that once her previous love sees her again, he will realize the error of his ways, and repent.  He will realize that he still loves her (and the baby), that she has produced a beautiful baby on his behalf and he is eternally grateful and wants to be a family.  The reality is that he treated her badly even when they were “in love” at the age of 16, left her in Samoa and has not returned.  She wistfully said that he told her recently that he wants to be there for the baby, and that he “doesn’t want to miss a thing, whatever that means”.  Well, he missed the birth, that would have been a good start.

The girl and her mother believe that life is going to be better for the baby, and also for them, as they believe that eventually they will both be sponsored for visas to one or other attractive developed nation.  Why I asked, would that be a reasonable supposition?  The father treated her badly before she was pregnant, he went to Samoa to meet her, but quickly left her, and has not returned.  He apparently has completed paperwork for the baby to migrate, but not for her.  She is an uneducated child who will now suffer the stigma of having given up a child before she is eighteen years old.  She has no way to earn a decent living, and few prospects in the world.  She and her mother live on handouts and the kindness of strangers.  Who is going to sponsor both of those people, and then support them.

The poor girl happily proclaimed that it is going to be fine, as her goal is to “get an education, and be able to support the baby properly, and then go and get her back!!”.  My heart broke.  How is this all going to happen, when even the first part is going to be such a long, long road.  It may be possible, but without good guidance and decision making, it is just a train wreck in slow motion.

Apart from me, no one wants to speak the truth as it might be upsetting.  However, the wish to be a child’s friend, rather than a parent is a foolhardy one in my opinion.  I feel a sense of foreboding that once separated from her child, she will be looking for love, heartbroken and feel duped.  Within 18 months, she may be pregnant again, and then what -give up that child too?  I also feel that rather than thanking the adults in her life for being friendly right now, she will be blaming them in the years to come.  “Why didn’t you protect me? Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why didn’t you come and get me and the baby before it was all too late?” are the words that might come crashing out.  The train wreck will continue with the broken heart of a father who out of misguided love, didn’t want to upset a daughter in the short term.  What of the next generation?  A child of an uneducated child, sent away before a month old to live with another uneducated family in another country.  Who is going to give that child the skills to protect the embryos that are already in her tiny womb waiting for the day that they bloom into the next generation?

The footage of the train wreck, although we all know it, seems now to move slower than we even thought possible, with more dust and debris and carnage than we ever imagined.  But for having these thoughts, and voicing them out loud, apparently I don’t understand “Their Culture”, and I have no rights to comment, and I will never understand.  Only time will tell if I am scarily right.  But will there be enough time for me to view the footage complete, or will I have to watch it via the internet, as can I be part of a “Culture” that so quickly and calculatingly dismisses babies and hoodwink teenagers to gain a perceived advantage for adults?  Can I ever truly be part of a “Culture” that I really don’t understand at all?  Do I love my husband – yes.  Do I love the kids no matter where they come from – yes.  Do I love Fiji – yes.  But do I understand – at this point I have to say – no.  If there is an argument about my thoughts, it will all be justified on the basis of “Culture” – all from a child who has given birth to a child, and spent the years from the age of 10 to 16 years living in a sub-culture in a developed country.  A child who had every opportunity to attend school, attend the dentist, go to swimming club, dance class or whatever she pleased, but instead decided that the benefits of living in a developed country were to go to the movies and have fist fights at the train station instead of attending school, or anything else.  All this talk about Pacific Island Culture from a child who has not lived in the Pacific since she was 10 years old, and as soon as she got to the Pacific tragically discovered what she calls “Culture” firsthand.

Do I have a right to comment – that is a question that will always be up for debate around here.  Will my comments be taken into consideration?  I am not saying I am right, just putting my concerns in the hat.  Will anyone take action?  Honestly, I am not even that worried that there may be a further disagreement ensuing from this musing on cultural differences, as very few of those I care about in my new culture value what I say significantly to bother with what they call “my things”.

What I do know is that if anyone in the family ever reads this, I will be told that it is not their culture to discuss things openly, and that I have no right to do so.  What then are my rights, or am I not really part of the family?  Are there really two train wrecks, and I have unwittingly gotten on the train many stations ago and have been sitting in the carriage all this time headed inexorably to my fate.

 

Natalei Eco Lodge – a hidden treasure

Images Of Fiji

IMG_2616 Last weekend, we went to Natalei Eco Lodge.  Contact information, maps, activities here . The website seems to indicate that it is in the Yasawas, but it isn’t.  It is on the main island, Viti Levu, not too far from Suva and Nausori (where Suva airport is located).  IMG_2416

It is amazing!  Out of all of the places I have stayed in Fiji, this is one of the best.  Not in terms of luxury, but in terms of being a real Fiji experience.  If you only get to stay one place and want to leave Fiji with a feeling of what Fiji really is about, then you should go to Natalei.  It is only $75 per person per night including all food.

I took so many pictures, I couldn’t decide what to leave out, so I have added a few too many really.

IMG_2436Natalei is one of the only places that…

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Two Cousins

Two Cousins

Two cousins enjoying the wind in their hair. Boat ride from Ovalau Island to Leleuvia Island, Fiji. Whenever I am away from Fiji, I look forward to coming back. I can always tell when I am close to Fiji after flying over open ocean as the first thing you notice is the clouds that go up and up. It looks like another sea, but up in the sky.

Fiji and South Pacific Tide Times

Fiji and South Pacific Tide Times

I noticed recently that a lot of people come to my blog searching for Tide Times and have probably been sorely disappointed.  Here they are for any sailors around the place. I also sometimes need them, as now I am an island dweller, it is handy to know if I am traveling between islands as often the fibreglass speedboats only go from certain places at high tide!

Skirts for men, or everything you always wanted to know about the sulu

I recently came across this on the internet.  I loved it so much I “reblogged” it.  I hope you like it too.

From Seattle To Suva

The humble wraparound skirt fashioned from a big square of cloth you tie or wrap around your waist  has multiple names: sarong (Indonesia), lava-lava (Samoa), laplap (Papua New Guinea), and in Fiji, the sulu.  You see a fair amount of the sarong-style beach coverup sulus as casual wear and (duh) at the beach. Since it’s impolite for a woman to show her thighs when visiting a Fijian village, tourist ladies are advised to wear shorts, carry a sulu in their purse or rucksack and then do a quick wrap and tuck of the sulu right before arriving at the village.

It’s perfectly acceptable for men or women to wear this kind of sulu in daily life, but since it has to be tied or tucked, there’s always the chance it might not stay on if someone steps on the hem when you get off the bus, and thus, you usually see…

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Indo-Fijian Wedding guest – I was so blessed

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The bride accepting gifts

On the 14th of September 2013, we were invited guests to a very special celebration – the wedding of the son of our old neighbour from Koronivia Road, the home of my friend Sabita.    I have never been to an Indian wedding before, and it was such a great privilege to be invited.

I will let the photographs speak for themselves, and here are a few of my observations.

IMGP2499 IMGP2494 IMGP2500At the beginning of the evening, as guests are being seated in a temporary structure set up for the occasion, the ladies leave the venue, and walk together to the nearest cross roads.  They carry sweets on their heads, and eat and talk all the way.  At the cross roads, they collect some mud, and say prayers, and take it back to the wedding to be prayed upon and to bless the couple.  This symbolizes the cross roads that the couple have reached, and the decisions that have led them to their decision to marry, and all of their many future decisions and cross roads that they will inevitably face as a couple.  They then return to the venue, where the bride stands beneath a decorated canopy with a basket on her head and dances as the women come and give small cash gifts.  You have to hold the gift over the basket, wave your hand three times, and then place it in.IMGP2468

IMGP2780After that, the mother of the groom (the hostess also) stands in the same canopy, and the other mothers and grandmothers bring bowls of food prepared for the occasion, wrapped in colourful sulus and present them to the mother.  They receive a dance from her in return.  The last to make the presentation is the couple to be married.  The mother each time pours a little blessed oil on each bowl.

There were two long trestle tables set up, and people sit and eat, and then make room for the next guests, so that there is eating almost all night long.  The men and boys are completely responsible for food service.  When you sit down you are given a plate and a cup, and boys come with bowls of food, and serve little bits of curry and roti, and dahl over and over until you are sated.  This is the only time I have seen Indian men involved in food, and was told that they only do it at the wedding.

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The bride and Sham’s daughter

IMGP2571The women all wear saris or salwar kameez (dress with tight pants under and a veil) and the room literally shimmers with the beading and sequins.  The way it lights up the faces of the women is incredible.  Women who I normally see farming or serving in the store are transformed literally into godesses.

There are musicians too.  If you like the song, you also make an offering to the singer of $2 or $5 by waving it over his head three times, then putting it in his bowl.  It is best to give a note rather than a coin.

Recently, Fiji got rid of the $2 note, and replaced it with a coin.  This has caused an enormous problem in the Indo-Fijian community, as now the smallest note is a $5 note, and to give that at a wedding or funeral is a burden on many families who live on $60 a week.

The entertainment is always varied and often multicultural at Indian events.  At the wedding, the girls danced, and they had a female impersonator from the Solomon Islands who did a wonderful dance in hula style.  His half-man-half-lady (as they are called here) friends came to collectIMGP2475 him at the end and were welcomed.

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Sham (centre) and Nilesh’s father (right)

Everyone is catered for, my friends Sham and Nilesh who are both in wheelchairs after a car accident many years ago – Sham is a very successful insurance agent, and Nilesh has just found a career as an artist supported by social workers from USP; Nilesh’s father who has just had two toes amputed from diabetes but always has a joke about it (Fiji has

the number one rate of amputation from diabetes in the world); the transvestites; everyone!  My friend Sivnila who is fifteen years old and does our lawnmowing.  He attends school and works the 8 acre farm with his mother, and makes money selling vegetables and lawnmowing to support the family as his father is bedridden after a heart attack.  Jason and Sonam, whose father has been lying in bed at the back of their house with body weakness for many years, and whose mother, my friend Agnes (a gardener) has now joined him after a severe stroke.  She is now almost immobile as there is

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Sivnila and Nilesh

very little treatment here except for massage and family visits.

There is always a place where the men can be served Kava (yaqona) but there is no alcohol.  Ladies do not drink at all, except for during the meal, and it is only cordial.  Maybe it is so difficult when so many ladies might need to use the bathroom with saris so they just avoid liquid intake.  I am not sure, but I am always struck by the difference in culture.  In my culture, it is always polite to offer a drink of some kind to guests, but not here, so I often am very thirsty at events I attend!

The young men do go and buy beer, but they do not drink it at the wedding, they will drink it outside, and Nishant and Sanila’s shop stayed open til midnight especially.

The atmosphere is electric and calm at the same time.  There is a sense of family that runs right through the community that brings a deep contentment.  I am humbled to be included in that large family, and love dearly my family on Koronivia Road.  IMGP3312 IMGP3308 IMGP3283 IMGP3275 IMGP3268 IMGP3185 IMGP3085 IMGP3087 IMGP2908 IMGP2944 IMGP3023 IMGP2902 IMGP2868 IMGP2850 IMGP2730 IMGP2659 IMGP2656 IMGP2605 IMGP2601 IMGP2576 IMGP2571 IMGP2511 IMGP2509 IMGP2497 IMGP2494 IMGP2489 IMGP2471 IMGP2456

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The groom’s father, my father in law, my husband

How to make a bed from recycled paint cans

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Ok, here it is, as promised, the bed from recycled paint cans, sticky tape, and cardboard!  IMG_0003

Let me make it clear, I am not trying to set myself up as some kind of self professed DIY guru (although maybe I should start a blog site called just that…) or trying to turn this blog site into a site about how to make things out of recycled stuff. Of course my daughter has visions of becoming an overnight internet sensation from this post.  If enough people want a bed out of junk, maybe she will!

I am simply a mum living in a place where furniture is expensive, money is tight, and there is so much that is discarded that is actually useful.  I am often a woman on the edge, wondering how I am going to maintain a lifestyle that I want the kids to have in a country like Fiji where money is always tight.

IMG_0009I am also concerned constantly with the perception here of what is actually “trash” or “rubbish” as once something is discarded it is immediately viewed as that.  All of the paint cans, lids and cardboard that I used would have otherwise ended up in landfill, a problem for my kids to have to worry about in their lives – heavy metals, paints etc leaching into the mangroves and the sea.  Living in an island nation in the middle of the Pacific, the prospect of an ocean full of toxins and rubbish, and void of fish is actually frightening.  I have once seen a fridge floating in Suva Harbour. 

Our live in family recently increased from me, my husband and one teenager; to me, my husband and three teenagers.  The two new teenagers arrived from Australia with a suitcase each that was filled with nothing that is actually useful in Fiji a land of alternating mud and dust – no towels, no toothbrushes, no sheets, just video games and high heels it seemed IMG_0014to me.  Frustration and despair got me nowhere, but I must admit I felt it keenly.

Anyway, with two extra kids, and no extra money or furniture, I had to pull myself together and see what I could come up with.  If only I could work out a way to spin a towel or a sheet set from spiderwebs and butterfly tears, my world would be complete!

I didn’t, but I did manage with the help of my 15 year old daughter to make her a bed using only the below.  IMG_0012The hardest part was being disciplined enough to pick up the stuff when I saw it in the dumpster and take it home, and to stop my family from trying to “tidy up my junk” every Saturday where they would try and put it all kinds of places to get it out of the way.  Also, my nieces and nephews were constantly using the paint lids as frisbees and hurling them down the hill where I would often find them a week later.

I used:

  • 50 used paint cans (you could substitute large juice cans)
  • 4 rolls of packing tapeIMG_0002
  • 3 regular cardboard boxes
  • 1 cardboard box from a large electrical appliance
  • 8 recycled coke bottle lids
  • some of the white plastic binding tape that they use for packing white goods
  • about 30 small screws and a screwdriver
  • 1 thin piece of foam
  • Material to cover
  • The only things that I bought new were the screws and the packing tape and the foam, plus the material to

    IMG_0015

    cover, all the rest of it was salvaged from building sites and dumpsters, plus Jacks of Fiji Nakasi store gave us some great boxes.  The total cost of the bed was $18.

Instructions:

  • We used 50 cans in ten rows of five to fit a single mattress.
  • Lay them out to make sure it fits.
  • Make a cardboard stencil to cover 4 cans, 6 cans and 3 cans.
  • We grouped the cans into fours and sixes and then put them together as you would leggo so as to give the structure some strength.
  • We then had a group of two lots of six cans, and one lot of three cans.
  • You need a stencil for both the top and bottom of each set.  I think we used eight stencils of the 4 can set, twelve stencils of the 6 can set, and two stencils of the 3 can set.IMG_0018
  • Trace the stencils onto cardboard boxes and cut with stanley knife or scissors
  • Tape the paint cans together in sets, then tape the cardboard stencils to the top and bottom of each.
  • Then tape the leggo pieces together.
  • Lay the large cardboard on the floor and place the large leggo pieces together
  • Score the cardboard so that you can fold the extra cardboard up to make the sides of the bed.
  • Tape around the cardboard.
  • Place some cardboard boxes on the top of the bed, and cover with a piece of thin foam if you have it.
  • Lay the material/fabric on the floor overlapping so that there are no gaps if you are using pieces, and make sure that there is enough on each side to cover the sides of the bed, and fold over the bottom.
  • Turn the bed frame upside down and lay on top of the middle of the material.IMG_0019
  • Cover the base of bed with a piece of material, and fold the top material over the sides and to the bottom so that no joins will show when the bed is right side up.
  • Use a piece of white packing tape, or cardboard to get a straight line, and screw the material into the base, all folded in, using the packing tape as a guide.
  • Use some long screws, and screw the coke bottle lids into the base as small legs.
  • Turn the bed over, put on the mattress, go to sleep!IMG_0020 IMG_0022 IMG_0029IMG_0031

How to get from Levuka to Suva – water taxi option

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On the water taxi

A few weeks ago, I went once more to Levuka, the old capital of Fiji.  I had the opportunity to stay in a

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Leleuvia

wonderful home at the top of the hill owned by a colleague.

Traveling back, I got the water taxi from Levuka to Bau Landing, near Nausori with a stop over to visit a friend at Leleuvia Island resort.  From Bau Landing, there is a bus to Nausori which costs $1.60, and from there you can get the bus to Suva.  Otherwise, you can organise a taxi to collect you from Bau Landing, and the trip to Suva will cost about $30.

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The water taxi parked at Leleuvia

Usually, I take the bus/ferry service run by Patterson Brothers Shipping, but the trip from Levuka to Suva means getting to the bus

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The water taxi pick up at Kings Wharf, Levuka

stop at 4am.  This time, I took the water taxi, which was much better, and really fun!  The pick up was at 10am (much more civilised), and the cost is about $90.  If you stay at Leleuvia for lunch, there is an additional cost, but you can also swim, snorkel, and relax on the beach.  The details for the Leleuvia to Suva island transfers are at the Leleuvia resort web site http://www.leleuvia.com/island_transfers.html#.

You can also arrange to get picked up from Levuka, or Moturiki.  Leleuvia is really beautiful with accommodation in traditional thatched bures on the beach.  It is a small island that has only the resort, and is what people would think Fiji is if they had just one picture in their minds.  The lunch was served in a massive traditional bure that has the dining area and bar, and is open to the beach.  The cost to stay at the resort is surprisingly cheap and I am told that all the watersports are free, and that there is a special rate for kids.  Anyway, I can’t believe I didn’t know both about Leleuvia, and also about this excellent way to get home!

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Joe, the water taxi driver

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Moturiki Island

While in Levuka Town, my driver, Mr Ram took me along Beach Street to the tomb of Tui Levuka, near which is a stake that marks the centre of Fiji.  Levuka is on Ovalau Island, an easy trip from Suva or Nausori which are on the main island of Fiji, Viti Levu.  The island is part of the Lomaiviti group which means “heart of Fiji” so I don’t know why I was so surprised that there is a spot in Levuka which marks the actual centre of Fiji.  I am not a navigator, so I am not sure if this is gospel truth, but many friends from Ovalau assure me that what Mr Ram told me is true!  Mr Ram can also take you on a taxi tour all around the island which is a great day trip.  It is well worth the trip, as Levuka was the old capital of Fiji until the capital was moved to Suva in 1874, and as such was the hub of activity.  It is the site of the first school in Fiji, the first newspaper, bank, the first Town Hall built to celebrate the 50th year of the reign of Queen Victoria, the first masonic lodge, the landing site of the first indentured labourers or “Blackbirded” people, the first electricity in Fiji (which was privately funded by Reg Patterson the founder of Patterson Brothers shipping).  In fact Levuka had electricity three days before Suva.  Levuka is also the site where Fiji was ceded to Britain, marked by the cession stone.  It is the site of the oldest hotel in the South Pacific that is still standing (The Royal Hotel).  The longer I am in Fiji, the more Levuka is a fascination for me.

Levuka is also the site of the first Catholic church service in Fiji, I believe the first Anglican church, and the first Catholic Convent (Loreto), and the first Methodist Mission.  Levuka also had a pigeon post which is marked by a water fountain near the Post Office (also the first Post Office in Fiji) on Kings Wharf (formerly Queens Wharf).  Levuka is one of the three ports of entry for Fiji.

In Levuka, if you get a chance, visit Baba Settlement which is the settlement behind the town where the descendants of the blackbirded people from the Solomon Islands, Vanuatu, Gilbert Islands, Ellice Islands were brought to work on the cotton and sugar plantations.  Next year is the 150th centennial of the first recruits.  A lot of them were actually stolen from their homes or tricked into boarding the boats as the traders posed as missionaries.  Plus below, I have  included a pic of the rubbish dump at Levuka just out of interest.  Might have to push my recycling efforts to cans!

Baba settlement is one of my favourite places to visit.  To get there, go along Bath St, beside Levuka public school.  Keep walking and you will see some steps.  Go up the steps, then you will see that the path branches out into three different sets of steps.  All steps lead to Baba.  If you take the fork to the right, you will get to “the Baths” or “Bower’s pool” which is a concreted swimming hole with steps at the base of the waterfall.  If you cross the bridge, you can go up the steps to the top of Baba.

When you go there, be aware that you are walking close to, or through people’s front yards, and be respectful and polite.  If you would like to have a look at the waterfall, or have a swim, then make sure you ask to be shown to the Kaivika pool.  The water hole there is easy to negotiate, and lovely, especially after a downpour.  If you ask to go to the waterfall, you will be shown to the source of the waterfall, which is at the top of the extinct volcano core, and it is very slippery and hard to get to.  People in Baba are so friendly, and if you act nicely, they will be happy to show you around.  The gardens are divine, and truly permaculture, with flowers, pineapples, yaqona (kava), cassava, dalo (taro), beans, aloe vera, watercress, lilies and bananas all riotously growing in harmony.

Make sure you take your rubbish with you when you go, as there is no rubbish collection in Baba, and it has to be taken back to town.  If you have plastic bottles or aluminum cans, drop them at the Town Hall for recycling.

Cultural note:  If you walk north of town you will go through Levuka Village.  This is a traditional village, and as such, cultural protocols apply.  A few tips:  as you cross the bridge towards the village, please remove any hats, sunglasses, beanies, and backpacks.  Also, it is polite for ladies to wear a sarong or suli to cover any short pants, and to wear a shirt with sleeves.  If you want to look around the village, you must have permission, and go with a guide from the village.

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Baba settlement, Levuka

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Tin cans as far as the eye can see, rubbish dump, Levuka

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Mr Ram

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Waterfall at Baba settlement, Levuka

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Machine that turns plastics to oil

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Source:youtube

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPIHJRIpLRk

A friend sent me this link about a man in Japan who has made a simple machine which converts plastics back to oil, or kerosene (many Fijians use kerosene for cooking).  Since then I have seen a whole lot of back yard versions on youtube.

44 million a year in Fiji – PET bottles are recyclable – but only if people recycle them!

I am doing some research on Fiji Water, and American owned brand, operating in Fiji.

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Fiji Water bottle floats in Suva

A bit of history here.  http://superculturereport.wordpress.com/fiji-water/

Some reports state that more than half of Fijians do not have access to clean drinking water.  There is so much information (not much of it very encouraging).  Fiji Water extracts at least 3.5million liters of water a month from its source in Fiji (only companies that extract that volume are subject to the tax introduced in 2010 which caused Fiji Water to close its plant for a day before reopening the next morning), with over 95% of it apparently being exported to its major markets USA and Australia.   Plastic “blanks” or pellets are imported to Fiji, and then filled at the plant using blow fill technology.  The only commitment that Fiji Water has to recycling here in Fiji that I have found is this:

Coca Cola Amatil Fiji will supply (if asked) large bags that hold approximately 60kg of recyclable plastic bottles.  Once the bags are filled, you can call them and they will collect the bags and pay 75 Fijian Cents per kg for the plastic.  They will take all their own brands (which are numerous) plus Fiji Water bottles.   To get the bags delivered to any rural communities or any of the islands (110 of Fiji’s 332 islands are inhabited), is not easy.  I suggested to Coca Cola Amatil that they could simply drop off the bags with the regular delivery of their product (the Coca Cola trucks also apparently deliver the Fiji Water to the resorts and other outlets), but they do not want to do that as they claim that people put “all kinds of rubbish” in the bags such as “dead dogs”.

There are no public place recycling bins that I have seen, and no regular collection of recycling.  PET bottles are everywhere in open dumps and on the roadside, creeks, rivers and farms.  Many communities do not have any kind of garbage collection at all.

Fiji Water told me that they have a joint initiative with Coca Cola to recycle in Fiji.  If the above is it, then it is not adequate.  As there is no formal recycling program in Fiji, most plastics and PET bottles end up either burned, or in landfill.  The dumps in Fiji are mostly near the mangroves and a cause of great concern to local authorities here.

Pictures and images of part of the problem here.

Hazardous Waste in the Pacific http://www.alphabetics.info/international/2013/03/18/hazardous-waste-in-the-pacific-islands/

The Department of Environment reported:

Fiji like all other Small Island Developing States in the Pacific region recognizes that waste management is the single most pressing issue that needs immediate action. It is recognized as a major concern with the potential to cause negative impacts on our national development activities including public health, the environment, food security, tourism and trade.

Solid Waste at the moment is either being thrown in the open dumpsites, illegally disposed of in the sea or on unused land, in the streets or being burnt in piles in the backyard. Burning of municipal waste is also quite common despite and towns and cities have been continuously exposed to destructive effects such as carcinogenic toxins from burning and impacts of poor waste management.

Plastic Bags

The growing number of plastic bags is one of the major environmental pollutants and of key concern in Fiji, as it takes longer time to degrade. Plastic pollution is quite common in public areas. In 1994 SPREP carried out a waste audit with 5 households in Suva for a week and found 7% of the waste was made up of plastics.

PET Bottles

In the year 2003 from January to December, the total influx of PET bottles in Fiji was recorded around 44 million which includes 1.7 million of imports and 42 million PET bottles being produced locally. (Note that the production 5 (sic) of PET bottles serves to mean the bottles that are blown up locally using imported pellets).

Industrial or Trade Wastes

Considerable amounts of solid wastes are produced by industries and disposed of at municipal dumps.

Source: http://www.uncrd.or.jp/env/3r_02/presentations/BG4/4-1FijiCountryReportKL.pdf

The One Time You Don’t Want Your Kids To Be Quiet -Drowning Doesn’t Look Like Drowning!

Further to my previous post https://alicevstokes.wordpress.com/2013/07/07/the-state-of-education-in-fiji-what-are-we-teaching-them-are-we-drowing/ , here is some great information about what signs to look for if someone is drowning.

Sunny Sleevez

SWIMMING POOL PINK RING WM

In many child drownings, adults are nearby but have no idea the victim is dying. Here’s what to look for.

Children playing in the water make noise. When they get quiet, you get to them and find out why.

Drowning is not the violent, splashing call for help that most people expect. Many of us have learned what drowning looks like by watching television. If you spend time on or near the water (hint: that’s all of us) then you should make sure that you know what to look for whenever people enter the water. Usually a child will drown without making a sound. Drowning is almost always a deceptively quiet event. The waving, splashing, and yelling that dramatic conditioning (television) prepares us to look for is rarely seen in real life.

The Instinctive Drowning Response—so named by Francesco A. Pie, Ph.D., is what people do to avoid actual or…

View original post 597 more words

The state of Education in Fiji – what are we teaching them – are we drowing?

Our son, Dominic is in Form 3 (grade 9).  The school he currently attends is a very expensive school by Fijian standards, Suva Christian Community High School.  It is a beautiful school housed in an old church building.  The school has just built a new science lab, the facilities are clean, and the education is unique.  It is a small school with less than 100 students from form 3 to form 7.  Because of the size of the school, they do not offer any inter-school sports, as there are no teachers to coach teams, and to field a team in any age group would be difficult given the numbers.  They also do not participate in swimming as an organised activity.  At the primary school they do, but at the High School, they don’t.  Kids can compete in the inter school swimming, but only if they are members of an outside school club.  This is a bit sad, as the High School is at Laucala Beach and very close to the National Swimming Centre’s 50m pool.

It is also sad, as the drowning statistics in Fiji are horrific.  The drowning rate here is seven times the rate in Australia.

“FIJI has recorded the highest drowning rate per capita with a total of 75 lives being lost from water-based activities last year.

 

And the Water Safety Council of Fiji Steering Committee confirmed that this drowning figure was more compared to Australia that has a population of 22.8million as of September last year.

Committee convenor John Philip revealed this in an interview yesterday saying the drowning per capita rate used to be 4.5 times worse than Australia. However, he said last year, it was almost seven times worse.” Source: http://www.fijitimes.com/story.aspx?id=231902drown 1

“STATISTICS show there were 270 drowning deaths in Fiji between 2008 and 2012, and that last year’s figure was the highest at 75 cases.

 

Speaking at the International World Water Safety Day celebrations in Suva yesterday, Minister for Youth and Sport Commander Viliame Naupoto said the drowning toll recorded so far for this year was 11.

He said seven drowning-related deaths were recorded during the first 22 days of this year alone.

“The harsh reality of these drowning fatalities is that 25 children under the age of 10 were left unsupervised in or around water,” Cdr Naupoto said.

“I would like to reverse this trend with a different twist and create a different set of statistics that read three lives saved every day through successfully learning how to swim.

“That would mean that we will have a target of 1095 able swimmers for this year.”

He said drowning was preventable and those dedicated to water safety knew there was no magic bullet to prevent drowning and that people needed to follow water safety steps.

“A lack of awareness of water safety, particularly in relation to our children, is an issue that can bring tragedy to anyone, anywhere and at any time.

“Keeping watch and being vigilant is the key to eliminating child drowning and preventing new drowning.” The WHO estimates that 388,000 people die through worldwide every year.” Source: http://www.fijitimes.com/story.aspx?id=228002

drown 2Drowning is not an issue for only toddlers or infants.  Drowning is an issue is particular in High School age children, through to adulthood, according to the 2012 Drowning Report of the Australian Royal Life Saving Society 2012.  Source: http://www.royallifesaving.com.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0006/4002/2012-Drowning-Report.pdf

Drowning is a preventable death.  It is only preventable if children (and adults) learn swimming, life saving and survival techniques (such as floating or treading water), and resuscitation skills.  How will they learn if not incorporated as compulsory in the school curriculum?

Suva Olympic Pool, you can see the sea in the background. Source: Fiji Sun

One would assume (or I did at least) that since Fiji is a nation of islands, that Fijians as a group would know how to swim.  This is not the case at all.  One rarely sees Fijians swimming in the ocean.  There are only two pools in Suva.  The Olympic Pool in Suva City, right near the water front is only open from 10am to 6pm Monday to Friday, and 8am to 6pm on Saturday.  Even if kids or adults wanted to train in the mornings, they couldn’t.  If you visit the pool on any given day, you could literally fire a gun, and not risk hitting anyone!

There is also the Damodar City Aquatic Centre (at the National Fitness Centre).

There are, as far as I know in fact no other public pools in Fiji.  I also do not know of any school that has their own pool.  If I am wrong, I welcome your feedback.

Why is the risk of drowning over the age of 15 years much higher than before that age?  Is it because at this age, compulsory school swimming is not a priority, and that over 15 years the parents assume that the kids have learned to swim by osmosis, and leave them unsupervised to play with their friends?

In April this year, one of Fiji’s great leaders and chiefs, Tui Macuata, a champion of the environment and conservation passed away by drowning.  His fishing boat capsized.  It was reported that his companions stayed with him for as long as they could.  When the chief lost his strength, his companions prayed for him, then swam to shore to raise the alarm.  The manner of his passing is tragic.

“They had gone fishing in the Tui Macuata’s 115-horsepower speed boat. He had just returned from Suva and when he wants to relax he comes to the village and goes fishing,” Mr Foster said. “Their boat started taking in water around 2am in the morning and the three had been sleeping. When Tui Macuata woke up he alerted the other two.”
According to Mr Foster, the boat capsized shortly afterwards. “They swam two kilometres from where they were. When they were swimming he informed his tavale (Ratu Peni Vulaca), that he was getting tired and weak; Tui Macuata was hanging onto his tavale’s Tee-shirt.
“They were fishing at the barrier reef where there are strong currents. The two prayed with him and continued swimming.”  Source: http://www.fijisun.com.fj/?p=149828

The late Chief was only 57.  I pose the following questions:

Was the chief fully clothed whilst trying to swim?  Lifesaving training teaches you to take off as much clothing as possible in a survival situation.

Did the Chief’s companions know that a person who is drowning will try and hold on to the rescuer, and risk drowning them also?  In a survival situation, talk to the swimmer and encourage them to float on their back, so that you can grip them under the chin, and the rescuer can then either tread water keeping the nose and mouth of the person above water, or holding the chin, sidestroke to safety.  In extreme situations where the victim starts to panic, you can knock them out, and then grip them under the chin and tread water or side stroke to safety.  In survival situations, a prayer may be a good calming device, but it did little to save the Chief so that he could continue his great work.

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Mourners carry the funeral mats at Tui Macuata’s funeral. Source https://www.facebook.com/VodafoneAthFijiFoundation

The late Chief received the 2006 Global Conservation Award. http://www.seaweb.org/getinvolved/oceanvoices/ratuaisea.php.

At the beginning of this blog, I was going to simply post a few photos of one of the elite schools in Suva City, Fiji, as a reflection of the state of education here.  I got side tracked a bit, but my point is still the same I think.

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Outside the main administration office, Suva Grammar

Anyway, to continue, as there are no sports or swimming at our son’s High School, and he has successfully found his feet in Fiji after moving from Australia, we decided to search for another School.  Last Friday, we had an appointment with one of the most prestigious schools in Fiji, Suva Grammar.  On entering the school, I was shocked and dismayed at the state of the interior.  The floors and walls are filthy.  Tiles peeling off the floors, walls covered in the grime of maybe 20 years.  It had a depressing atmosphere.  I did not bother to visit the toilets.  It made me think, as I often do when visiting other public buildings and campuses here.  The toilets at the Fiji National University Koronivia Campus are third world.  No toilet tissue, no soap, and the smell is overwhelming.

What are we teaching the young people destined to become leaders in Fiji and the Pacific?  If we look at the state of Suva Grammar, are we teaching them that THIS IS THE BEST THAT YOU CAN EXPECT?  THIS IS ALL THAT YOU ARE WORTH?

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Outside the Principal’s Office, Suva Grammar

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The stairwell that leads from the main office to the Principal’s Office, Suva Grammar

Why would we expect them to have pride in their education if we do not value them enough to keep it clean?  Why would we expect that children would learn to swim if they are given no opportunity?  Why are so few Fijians educated to tertiary level?  Fijian tertiary enrollment numbers are 114th in the world per capita.  If education at a prestigious school is not what they hoped, why would they be interested in further education?  If Fijians are to be educated about environmental issues, where do we start?

 

 

 

Unlocking the Power of Mom Bloggers for Social Good

Unlocking the Power of Mom Bloggers for Social Good

I just joined this group, Mom Bloggers for Social Good.  The article makes interesting reading and I can’t wait to get involved more.  I am obsessed with the amount of recyclables here in Fiji with no “home” after the drinks are drunk, the noodles eaten, the coffee enjoyed, the ice cream scoffed.  These plastics end up either being burned, buried, or tossed into the waterways.  From Suva City to Nausori, from Nakasi to Nine Miles, from Sigatoka to Rakiraki, literally every human step you take, you step over a plastic recyclable.  Corporations trading here need to be encouraged to proactively manage container stewardship in the absence of any robust compliance framework in developing nations.  The environment is groaning under the weight of it, the heart also feels heavy. Please, let us know your experiences and ideas.

Getting around Fiji – part two – taxi driver phone contacts -Suva City, Nadi airport and Suva airport/Nausori

Getting a taxi in Fiji is normally easy, unless of course you are in a hurry and really need one.  Then, Murphy’s law applies.

To phone a taxi, you normally need the driver’s number.  In the Suva/Nausori area, most drivers will come anywhere you need, and travel freely along the corridor (Kings Road and Princess Road).  You can book a taxi in advance, or call as you need.  It is a good idea to have a few numbers stored as if you are in Nausori at the Suva airport, and the driver is stuck in Suva, you will wait about half an hour or more.

If you know another reputable driver in another area and want to add their details, please respond below.  See also, Getting around Part One – tips, mobile phones, ATMs.

Suva Airport area (Nausori area) reputable licensed taxis

Atish +679 9216093

Soni +679 9212511

Deo +679 9953568

Satea +679 9724312

Saleim (modern 5 seater van with luggage space) +679 9425271

Forum Taxis (very quick service) +679 9337818  /+679 8400402/ +679 7192710 forum.taxis@gmail.com

Suva City areaIMGP0198

Bau Taxis (Vinesh) +679 9953521

Saleim (modern 5 seater van with luggage space) +679 9425271

Ali +679 9667994

Forum Taxis (very quick service) +679 9337818  /+679 8400402/ +679 7192710 forum.taxis@gmail.com

Nadi Airport to Suva City/ Suva City door to door pick up to Nadi Airport

Safe Shuttle Service – modern sedans $25 per person, will pick up and drop off door to door +679 8777047 (Tiko)

Aubergine or Eggplant Jam (Fools’ Raspberry) – Beaigani in Fijian

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The old MH Supermarket in Levuka, Ovalau Island, Fiji.

Here in Fiji, the home made jams are truly amazing.  There is such an abundance of fruit IMGP2410here.  Store bought jams are very, very sweet, and not really fruity.  You can buy home made jams at most open air daily markets.  Recently, I tried a jam made and sold by a friend, and it took me so many guesses as to the fruit!  I never guessed, and had to be told, as it is a bit of a game with this jam as it looks and tastes exactly like home made raspberry jam, but is much cheaper to make.

It also provides a bit of fun when you serve it to guests, or give a jar away, as you can play the guessing game yourself.  I have not had one person guess correctly yet, and they are amazed when the answer is revealed.

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Eggplant on sale at Nausori market yesterday, along with live birds

I don’t have any photos of the process, and will add them when I make it next time, but it is not rocket science, and there are no tricks!

Method and Ingredients

  • Chop about 10 Chinese eggplants into about 2cm cubes, leaving the seeds in, and put into a large, heavy based pot
  • Add 3 cups of sugar
  • Add juice of any kind of citrus to taste (2 large lemons, or 3 limes, or 3 organges)
  • Add the zest of the citrus (I normally just zest one but it is up to you)
  • star aniseSource picture: http://www.food.com/library/star-anise-345
  • Add water to cover
  • Optional – I add just one spur of the star anise,just because it makes the guessing game a bit more fun, and it gives a mellow undertone)
  • Bring to the boil and stir once in a while
  • When the jam begins to turn red, and you can see all the seeds have come out of the eggplants, then turn the heat down to a simmer and simmer until the jam becomes glossy
  • To test, drop a tiny drop from a spoon into a glass of water.  If the jam kind of sticks together and remains visible without immediately dispersing, it is done!

Bottle and enjoy the fun!

It will be a tiny bit more maroon, and less red than raspberry, but I defy any cook to give it the “guess test”, and let me know if anyone catches on.