Sometimes I know that I may sound negative with some of the posts I put up, complaining about or documenting rubbish and PET bottles, burning plastic fires and so on.
Part of the reason I am so saddened by it all, is that I love Fiji so much. I have really come to love rural life – I never thought I would. I am a beach girl by nature – the thought of not being able to access the ocean normally terrifies me – really. I remember years ago, I had the opportunity to move to Botswana. I am ashamed to admit that the reason that I held in my
“secret heart” and not one of the many reasons I ever voiced, was that I could not do it, as after looking on the map, I realized that Botswana was landlocked!
Fiji is a nation of islands,
hundreds and hundreds of islands – and I live on the largest one. I am not that far from the sea really, and see it every time I take the bus to Suva but no one really swims in the sea here. If they do, they often swim fully clothed for modesty and cultural reasons, and there are no surf beaches on this side of the island at all (or in fact any place in Fiji that I have been to). Note to self – must visit surf side sometime. Even though we live on an island (a big one), we live in a rural setting. I have once seen some people swimming in Suva near the bowling club, which was wierd. The water is so filthy that the sand is black and the water is often blackish grey also. There were rusty cans and
plastic bottles everywhere, but a mother watched as her two young kids had a ball in the water. The water in Suva Harbour is so contaminated, and it is widely documented and known, but many people here don’t read the paper, so I guess how are they to know. I have also seen people daily catching fish in Nubukalou Creek in Suva and in the Harbour. Maybe they are not aware?
Of particular concern is Nubukalou Creek which drains a major area of the city that is without sewerage. The National State of the Environment Report states that “with faecal coliform levels thousands of times above an acceptable level it should be regarded as a sewer. The continued sale of fish along the creek bank, with the consequent use of its water for washing them, is a serious health hazard.” Source: http://www.unescap.org/drpad/publication/integra/volume2/fiji/2fj02c03.htm
Anyway, enough about Suva…..What has made me love it here in Rural Fiji so much I often ask myself? Is it the sunrise over the coconut trees – some days red, some days golden? Is it the sight of a hawk flying low (a sign that bad weather is coming)? To me, when I think of Fiji, I don’t think about beaches at all, I think of the country side. I think of the beautiful rural places and people. Most of Fiji is rural and people live off the land.
Is it the peace and quiet? Is it that every where you look it is green and whatever you put in the ground grows like wildfire?
It is all of those things, but mainly it is the people. Life here has a different pace. A friend of a friend is here in Fiji for a week at the moment and she has kindly brought some donations from home. I am so looking forward to meeting her, and will travel by bus tomorrow to the Coral Coast to collect the donations, and have a conversation. A week goes so fast here, not because you fit a million things in, like in the developed world, but because you don’t! I started wondering how I would ever find the time meet with them, and that if I don’t do it tomorrow, soon the week will be gone, and so will they.
The pace of life is often determined by the task at hand, and the tools available. My task right now is to write this blog – I have a working computer in my home – not many people
here have that. I have a working internet connection – also not common. Once I hit publish, the job is done, and all my typos and immature thoughts will be out there for the world to see.
Here, much is done by hand. Many hands, over long hours. Yesterday, I needed some milk powder, so I took a walk down the farm road about a kilometer to my friend Sanila who owns a small shop in Koronivia. I could have gone by bus to the nearest supermarket which would have taken about 10 minutes, but I felt like a chat and seeing a friendly face. So, I got my cloth shopping bag (also an oddity here as this is still plastic world where service means double bagging!) and my camera and took a walk. On the way, in the field, some men were harvesting rice from a research paddock. They were doing it all by hand. Cutting each bundle, walking it over to a pile, and then the piles would eventually be put into a tiny threshing machine and then the rice bagged into 50kg bags. After that, the rice straw will then be carried to a big pile. Sometimes we use the rice straw on the garden and it is a great weed mat.
I stopped for a chat and asked if I could take their photo for my website. They happily agreed, posed, and then went on with their work – all day. Each of the men probably earned between $10 and $20 for the day’s work. That is not much, but bread is 75 cents a loaf so the money they made (less their bus fare) will pay for the family meal.
A lot of work here is manual, and people still have time for a chat. Even though I sometimes get lonely, I am never really alone as everyone I meet is keen to talk, and share and find out about each other.
Ploughing is often done by a team or working bullocks, or a horse. Cassava, dalo, corn, ochra (bindi), bele, bananas, coconuts, limes, everything seems to be harvested by hand. Milking is often also still done by hand. And all these tasks are seemingly, to my western eyes, done with pride, love, laughter and happiness, and always in groups.
It is the love, laughter, togetherness and conversation that has made me love rural Fiji. Everyone asks us to come to the village for holidays, and they mean it.
There is a calmness to Fiji rural life that I find comforting.