Poetry Reflections

This poem describes nearly exactly how I feel... how I have felt my whole life. Even during times of happiness, I still carry my demon with me.

Alone
by Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

What I miss about Fiji (written at 5 a.m. by an insomniac)

I miss the warmth and acceptance of the people. I miss the absolutely devine Indian cuisine. I miss being able to go to the ocean whenever I want. And I miss being surrounded by nature. But most of all, I miss my self-confidence. Our society beats a person down. It berrates you, telling you that you're not good enough and you probably never will be. You can never be too rich or too thin, right? We're constantly subjected to messages telling us that we need more, more, MORE! You're not a "real" man unless you drive this car. You won't be successful unless you wear this suit. You must take this pill to be beautiful so people will like you. Who can possibly (honestly) delude themselves into true happiness in such a society? When I travel to do research in the field, I don't have access to the brainwashing tactics of modern societies. I'm surrounded by people who know themselves for who they are, not what they own. I've been back for less that a week and I can already feel the materialistic demon in me waking up. It questions how I can possibly be happy and content with who I am and what I've accomplished. "Don't you want more? Others have more. But, they're better than you. You need to look younger, thinner and more beautiful to deserve it. Work harder! They're smarter than you and more successful! Work, work, WORK! Forget about camping, forget about that hike! You must publish, produce, persevere." 'Hard work brings prosperity; playing around brings poverty.' (Bible quotation).
I fear that without my retreats to nature, my soul will wither and die. I enjoy my work, but I don't want to become overwhelmed by it. I want to be successful, but I also want to be happy. We are taught that success is monetary. But, true success is loving what you do and being at peace with yourself. To that extent, I'm not yet truely successful. I'm still struggling with finding happiness and contentment in my life. I don't think that I'm failing, but I think that I must still learning. Maybe that will always be the case. My soul begs to be reunited with nature whenever I return to my box in this concrete jungle.

"As long as I retain my feeling and my passion for Nature, I can partly soften or subdue my other passions and resist or endure those of others." Lord Byron

August 23, 2006

Amy and I absolutely HAD to go out to the water today. I couldn’t leave nails with big, red cow tags cable tied to them stuck in the reef, and Amy had three experiments still going that she had to pull up. Sure enough, to welcome us back, it was raining. As usual, we geared up and went out regardless. At least the visibility was good and we were able to get our work done. My sites were surprisingly easy to pull up. I was expecting to cuss and struggle with the nails while trying to pry them out of the rock. Nope. It was pretty easy. But, and isn’t there always a ‘but’, collecting the cyanobacteria that I needed to finish an experiment turned into a typical Fiji nightmare for me. This is the same cyano in which the bone crushing mantis shrimp live. I didn’t have a problem with them this time, but I did get pinched by a crab, stung by something painful (not sure what), nearly gouged by a sea urchin AND a lionfish, and had a small eel charge me and two very large moray eels glare at me angrily. I was carrying my shiny dive-knife and poking my hands into holes and under rubble to get the cyano. Morays have very poor eyesight and could mistake my hand/knife for a fish. Plus, they don’t really like it when people go poking sharp objects into their homes. To top it all off, the tide went out much faster than expected and I got trapped in shallow water surrounded by soft coral. I tried really hard not to damage any soft coral getting out. I think I did okay, but it was very stressful.
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“…reasons not to stick your hands into holes are moray eels. The moray eel lives along rocky areas, in holes, and under rocks. A very private creature, they are not known to attack unless threatened. Their home is their castle and they will defend it at any means. They usually come out only to eat. The scent of dead fish, blood, or bait will get them curiously out of their holes. Moray eels have razor sharp teeth and powerful jaws, so powerful that they can render severe muscle damage if one ever gets its jaws locked onto you. More commonly, they can cause severe tendon and nerve damage.”

August 19, 2006

We caught the Yasawa Flier today for Tavewa. It was awesome. I love being on a boat. We went straight to the top deck so we could sit in the sun, which we missed dearly, and watch the scenery. We traveled from Lautoka (essentially Nadi) through the Mamanucas and up to the northern islands of the Yasawas. The islands ranged in size from less that a quarter mile diameter to miles in diameter. The boat stopped many times to drop off and pick up passengers at the scattering of island resorts along the way, so it was a five our boat ride for us since we were the last stop. I didn’t mind though… I could have just stayed on the boat. Oh yeah! Here’s a cool side story. We were informed that professional photographers were going to be on the boat taking pictures for travel brochures to promote Fiji tourism. I ran into one of the photographers later, on Tavewa, and he showed me a picture that he took of me and asked if I’d sign a consent form so he could use it professionally. Cool, huh? Next time you look at a Fiji brochure, you might see me!
Once we got to Tavewa, we stayed at Otto and Fanny’s resort. Otto and Fanny are Indo-Fijian and their resort is renowned for having excellent food. It’s true. The curry dinner our first night there was amazing. And, they went out of their way to serve plenty of vegetarian food for me and Amy. There are only 6 bures in the resort and the max number of guests is 12. So, it was cozy. We met some really nice couples there, and I have a suspicion that most thought that Amy and I were a couple too. Oh well. Most of the guests were from New Zealand, but we also met a German couple, and Irish couple, and a guy from Siam named Chuck. We had a nice, relaxing time. But, both Amy and I got terrible sunburns on the first day. That’s what happens when you liberate someone from dark, cold skies into warm, welcoming sunlight. We wanted to snorkel or dive, but we had to stay covered up and out of the sun, so no snorkel, and it was too painful to put on wetsuits or masks, so no dive. We ended up going on a very nice hike to the top of the island. The views were amazing. The next day, we decided to visit some nearby caves. They were nice, but the caves in Bermuda are much better. Besides, I couldn’t stay in very long because the sea mites were eating me alive. Now I’m an anti sea mite. (Ha ha!) By the way, sea mites in the family Cirolanidae are “often very common and can reduce a dead fish to a skeleton in a few hours.” Wow.
After the cave trip, we went on a cattle dive. This is what we call tourist dives because they take you out in a boat like cattle and you have to play follow the leader under water. It’s annoying to divers who are used to doing their own thing while diving… but it was still fun. Besides, it wasn’t huge. There were only 12 people on the whole dive, including the two guides. And, the reef was spectacular, and warm. I was even able to wear my shorty! No hood. Oh! And we saw a Manta ray. I’ve always wanted to see one of those. It was breathtaking and graceful.
The stars were beautiful too. Since the skies were actually clear, we could stargaze. Well… I stargazed; Amy went back to the room. So, after dinner one night, I walked to the beach to check out the evening sky. While I was admiring the twinkling jewels, a Fijian man approached me. Now, mind you, I was literally a few feet from the resort and I had only been standing there for a few minutes…. Anyway, he told me he could see my torch (flashlight) from down the beach. We talked for a few minutes about my research and where he was from, etc. Then, he tried to get me to walk down to the southern point of the island with him because he said you could “see the stars better there.” I told him I could see the stars just fine. Then he said, “But I really like talking to you and I want to hear your stories.” I said, “You can hear my stories right here.” Finally he said, “I really want to stay with you tonight.” Wha?!?!? I knew exactly what he meant. He hadn’t even seen my face! For all he knew, I could have been a totally busted, 95 year old she-male with facial hair. I swear. There’s something up with Fijian men. They are seriously undersexed or have a turbo-charged sex drive. That’s not the first time I’ve been propositioned, and I’ve heard of many other accounts from girls that I’ve met here. In fact, last time I was here, a guy asked me if I would “do him a favor.” What kind of “favor” is that? I think you’d owe someone more than your life for a favor like that! Anyway, I told the stargazer that it was inappropriate for him to say that. He silently walked away.
Our trip back to Nadi on the Yasawa Flier wasn’t quite as fun as our trip to Tavewa. It was overcast and cold. I think Tagaqe knew we were coming and sent its greeting. We were also worried about how we were going to 1) get back to Tagaqe without it costing a fortune, 2) finding pizza at 7 pm (which might as well be 3 am since nothing is open after 6 pm), and 3) finding rum. Remember, we’d promised Kenyi and Akisi that we’d be back with pizza and rum for our little going away party since we would be leaving for Suva the next morning. We didn’t realize that the Yasawa Flier made all the same stops on the way BACK to Nadi. And, we didn’t get picked up from Tavewa until 1:30, so that put us back in Nadi after everything closed. We were able to solve the first problem. There were courtesy buses waiting to take passengers back to their various resorts. We hopped on the one heading to the coral coast and got off at the Hideaway Resort near Tagaqe. There are very few places to get pizza in all of Fiji, but the Hideaway happens to be one of them. Unfortunately they stop serving pizza at 3 pm. Damn. We got quesadillas instead. The most expensive quesadillas I’ve ever purchased. We were outa luck on the rum situation. I tried to convince the bartender to sell me a small bottle or a large glass or pure rum. No go. So, I bought a bottle of O.J. because we had a bottle of champagne back at the lodge. (Terry and Kirk gave us the bottle from there room when they were here). When we got back to the lodge, Kenyi and Akisi lectured us for being late and tried to give us a guilt trip because they were hungry and had been waiting “all night” for us. It was 8:30, give me a break. After the initial bad feelings passed, we had a good time. But, I don’t think any of them, Kenyi, Akisi, Jo (Akisi’s boyfriend), or Saner liked Mimosas. It’s all good; more for me! They also didn’t seem to like quesadillas very much. They must have been all messed up on the gallons of grog they’d been drinking. Who doesn’t like quesadillas?!

August 18, 2006

Okay… I’m thinking something about Fiji. Can you guess what it is? It’s something about the weather. Yes! It’s raining again today. Rain and cold, rain and cold… *sigh*, at least we’re going on vacation today to Tavewa. I guess I better get geared up though. We need to go pull our sites up today…. I hate putting my wet suite on in the cold rain.
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We’re back! We went out to the channel and tried to snorkel to our sites. It was like trying to swim through grog (a.k.a kava, or muddy water). I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. But we didn’t want to have to go back out again, so we sucked it up and started swimming towards out sites. I was leading and, even though she kept bumping into me, Amy had to keep sticking her head out of the water to see where I was. We finally gave up when we realized that we were swimming in circles. Literally. Fine then, on to vacation!

Once we got back from the unsuccessful snorkel, we had just enough time to throw some stuff together and catch a mini-bus to Sigatoka. It was sad leaving; Akisi almost cried. I hate sad good-byes, so we assured her that we’d be back on Tuesday night with pizza and rum. (That was a mistake, I’ll tell you why later). We made it as far a Sigatoka to find out that mini-buses don’t go to Nadi. Damn. We were waiting around trying to figure out what to do when an elderly man, who reminded me of James Earl Jones with loose, dirty, checkered pants, a sweater and white-rimmed sunglasses straight out of the 80’s approached us. He started saying something about “God” and “the Christian thing to do” blah blah blah. I like him though, so once he showed us his official ministry papers, Amy and I made a small donation. That was a good decision since ‘James’ then pointed out the bus that we needed to take to get to Nadi. Sweet! I didn’t even care that it was so packed I could only find a seat for one of my butt cheeks. We were off to Nadi for the night to meet the Yasawa Flier in the morning for our vacation. Yea!

Okay, so we officially found the most disgusting hostel in Fiji. It’s called Sunseekers in Nadi. Our room was scary. The beds were made up with a hodge-podge of strange linens that smelled like sour milk. In fact, the whole room smelled like sour milk. There was no lock on the door… at all, and the bathrooms were so foul it made me gag. There was no toilet paper in ANY of the bathrooms and when you asked for some, they’d put it in there, but it would disappear within a few minutes. I’m not sure I want to know what happened to it. Our room was lit by a lamp on the nightstand that had a strange green light bulb. I took a picture of Amy in the light and it looked like a scene out of Requiem for a Dream. There was also someone cooking a whole, freshly plucked, chicken on the patio adjacent to the bathroom. It kind of felt like I’d been transported into the Twilight Zone. Amy and I decided that people were actually living there. We think some of the rooms were apartments. Ech! I feel sorry for anyone who has to live there. I also felt sorry for Amy. She spent most of the night in the absolutely disgusting bathroom vomiting. I think she has bad reactions to kava. We ran into a group playing Fijian music and drinking grog (kava) on the back porch when we first arrived. They asked us to sit and join them and shared their grog with us. It’s considered very impolite to refuse kava, so we had a bowl or two. I try very hard to control my gag reflex when I drink kava. It’s not disgusting, but I had such a bad reaction to it last time I was here that my body remembers it. I think Amy is going to be the same way (if she isn’t already). Anyway, we endured, since it was only one night. But, we were both relieved to be leaving the next morning.

"Sucks to your ass-mar, Fiji!"

August 17, 2006

Guess what! It’s raining again. It’s not just raining (and freezing)…. “It’s a gustery blustery day,” as Pooh would say. Here’s how my morning went. Amy and I had booked a dive for 8:00 a.m., so we woke up at the butt crack of dawn to get our dive gear together. We had to be at the bus stop at 7:15 for the van to pick us up. Last night, when I was laying in bed reading, I heard the rain and hoped against hope that it would stop by morning. Of course, it didn’t. It just got worse.

We called the owner of the dive shop before we left to confirm that the dive was still on. Since it was, we put on our very wet, very cold, very stinky wet suites and hauled all of our gear through the downpour of rain and up-pour of mud to the bus stop. After 15 minutes, we watched the van, right on time, zip past us without even pausing. We assumed he forgot about us and would get us on his way back to the dive spot after he picked up the other divers at the hotel. So, we waited. After and hour and twenty minutes in the cold rain, Amy finally went back and called the dive shop again. This time, the driver of the van answered and Amy asked him where he was and why he didn’t pick us up. He said, “I drove by and you weren’t there.” EXCUSE ME!!! “Weren’t there” my ass! We were there before he drove by, while he drove by, and for quite a while AFTER he drove by. And, I can assure you, that we certainly wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to gear up (and through all the misery of the cold rain) if we didn’t have confirmation that the dive was still on. I was, yet again, furious. I began looking for my lightening bolt. Surely I should be able to smite someone for THIS! I have to admit, though, that what pushed me over the limit wasn’t being cold, which I hate more than almost anything, but the blatant, unapologetic lie told by Ganesh, the driver. I called Alex, the owner of the dive shop, to inform him of the situation, and to make sure that he knew what really happened… Not Ganesh’s fantasy version of what happened. He was, at least, apologetic. Do I need to appease the god’s of Fiji with some form of sacrifice to atone for my sins? Should I eat Amy, like a good cannibal, to show the god’s that I respect Fijian ways?

Yesterday was a little better. The rain at least paused for a portion of the day (but it wasn't any less cold). Amy and I spent the morning making algae extract strips. Several days ago we collected algae from the reef and extracted their chemicals while in Suva. We want to see if the algae produce chemicals that are detrimental to coral. This is important because it may explain why certain algae overgrow and kill corals while others do not. Anyway, we had our little electric burner to boil the agar, which is the jello-like matrix that holds the algae extract. We made molds out of Gorilla tape (similar to duct tape, but a hell of a lot better) and window screen. Then we added the extract to the agar and poured the mixture into each mold. Once it cooled we cut the mold into 1.5 cm wide strips to wrap around coral fragments. It was kind of fun because we felt like we were doing real science and it took a lot of creativity (along with trial and error). Anyway, once finished, we needed to put the strips out in the field. Of course, that’s when it started raining.
Here’s how we worked it. I snorkeled out to find the coral that we would be using and Amy followed on foot. The water was shallow enough for Amy to wade to the spot. She held the strips and handed them to me to attach to the coral with a cable tie. We started at 4 pm and didn’t finish until dark. I was so cold that my body was convulsing uncontrollably, which made putting delicate agar strips onto even more delicate coral, using uncooperative cable ties extremely difficult. I was so cold, in fact, that Amy informed me that my lips were completely blue. But, the coolest thing about the snorkel was our companion. An octopus, about the size of a medium sized dog sat just out of arms reach and watched us work. I swam over now and then to check him out and every time I did he would turn a deep, dark brick-red and hunch down into his hole. Also, while I was looking for the coral, I saw something move under a large coral head. Curious, I ducked under to see what it was. Shivers went down my back when I saw a tentacle bigger than my arm. Just a small part of the tentacle, mind you! That was probably the largest octopus I will ever encounter, and I only saw a piece of him.

"Sucks to your ass-mar!"
-Ralph, Lord of the Flies
(This is my new comment on Fiji.)

August 12, 2006

Yet again, it’s raining and cold. I didn’t realize that Fiji had a monsoon season. Anyway, Amy and I braved the weather and headed to the Tabu area to finish our algae collection and set up our experiment. We had to go out in the morning when the tide was high. It was frikin’ freezing! But, we were determined. Our resolved wavered when we got in the water though. The current was RIPPING! I’m not kidding. I was trying to collect a piece of algae and it took all of my effort kicking just to stay in one place. The sandy bottom was blowing past me like snow in a blizzard. I looked around at the fish, they didn’t seem to mind. It was just another windy day to them. To top it all off, the algae (actually a cyanobacteria) that I was collecting is only found way up in cracks and crevices of boulders and rubble… exactly where all the painful, prickly and biting things like to live. Through rain, sand snow and dark crevices I was willing to go! I forgot about the bone breaking mantis shrimp though. These shrimp like to make protective tunnels out of the cyanobacteria that I was collecting. I call it a “cyano-sock”. They don’t particularly like it when I rip their protective home to shreds, so they snap at me. It’s an ear-piercing, bone-chilling snap too. One that lets you know if it gets you, your gloved finger will be more like a sack of jelly when your bones are pulverized. So, I used my dive knife to try to coax out the cyano matt. This was essentially like opening a down pillow with a knife and trying to fill a zip-lock bag with the feathers in a tornado. I'm certain that I made some Damsel fish blush with my language. Needless to say, I didn’t collect enough for our experiment. Amy had similar problems, minus the immediate physical dangers, with the algae she was collecting. It was a frustrating day. But, we don’t throw away our lemons. Instead, we joined efforts and collected another kind of cyanobacteria for Amy to extract back in Suva. (She will extract all of the algae and cyano that we collect so we can study the chemistry). It was literally like collecting wads of snot underwater. Again, very frustrating. But, I managed to fill up my bag. Amy swam over to me, and I knew what had happened from the look on her face… Mother Ocean had reclaimed her children and Amy’s hour long collection of algae was gone. We know when our lemons have gone bad, so we quit for the day.
Amy ended up going to Suva. I don’t leave for Suva until tomorrow, so I took the most amazing cold shower of my life. I’m not kidding. I hadn’t showered in three days and was beginning to offend myself with my B.O. I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it felt to shower, even though I was so cold from the ocean that my lips were blue. The water was freezing cold, dirt-brown, spring water from the hills, but it was one of the best showers I can remember. Then I curled up with a hot cup of coffee and read from The Poisonwood Bible, an excellent book. My clean feeling wouldn’t last long though. Let me tell you why….
A little boy just across the road celebrated his first year in this world, and I was invited to go to his birthday party. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see what a Fijian birthday celebration is like. Parts of it were very much like any birthday party in the U.S. – balloons, a big, decorated cake, everyone in party dress, lots of food and drink. The differences were that the “drink” was kava, the food was kasava, breadfruit, boiled chicken and octopus, and everyone sat packed together on the floor, elbow to nudging elbow. The experience was as if someone threw a bucket of water on a circus painting with the blurry sounds of screaming children, island music and fast-spoken Fijian blending with the bright spectrum of sari’s, sulus, balloons and flowers. I don’t know if it was the kava, or my senses being overwhelmed in a deluge of sights, sounds and smells, but I was light-headed and dizzy for most of the party.
The room was so packed that I was stepped on by large, dirty feet multiple times (most of the villagers don’t wear shoes). I also left looking like the loser in a food fight. Little kids with lollypop covered fingers piled over me. I had cake, fish, and kasava pressed into my skirt and for all intensive purposes, my shirt had become a communal napkin. Then, the dread of all dread... I had to sit at the “kiddy table”. One of the things that I remember the most from Thanksgiving and Christmas as a child was the embarrassment and resentment of having to sit at the “kiddy table”. Those feeling reared up, but it was even more embarrassing since there was only one “table” (a long narrow sheet spread out on the floor from one end of the house to the other) and I was the only person over 10 years old at it. Apparently I got the “special” treatment of getting to eat before the adults to make sure that I got some food. (I think that because I'm nearly a foot shorter and 75 lbs lighter than most of them, they think I'm malnourished). I ended up only eating two small pieces of kasava. I couldn’t eat, mostly because I was grossed out. It takes a lot to gross me out. First, I saw a little girl sucking on her lollipop. There was a huge fly stuck to it and she put the pop with the fly right in her mouth. I expected her to spit the fly out in disgust, what she did though, was to ptew! the fly into her hand and throw it at her little brother all the while laughing. I don’t know if the fly was dead, in shock or paralyzed by sugary goo, but it stuck to the little boy's shirt. I didn't see what happened to the fly after that, but I think one of the mothers removed the insect toy. Anyway, the girl kept on sucking her fly-vomit covered lollipop. (That’s what flies do, you know. They vomit on what they eat and then eat the vomit). Next, while eating with the children, I saw a girl with a river of thick, green snot running from one nostril down to the crease of her mouth. I won’t venture to guess where it went after that… but she kept picking up kasava and breadfruit from the serving tray, taking bites and putting the rest back on the tray. My appetite ran away in horror. Finally (not really, there is no “finally”) it seemed like every other person in the room had at least one digit in at least one nostril at a time. The resulting “prizes” were either wiped on one’s sari, the floor or flicked across the room. I have to say, though, that this behavior isn’t exclusive to Fijian birthday parties since I witnessed the exact same thing sitting in the living room of my ex-husbands parent’s house in suburban Atlanta.
I don’t know why I focus on such things when I write my journal. I think it’s because it makes for an amusing story. I feel kind of like prissy Rachel describing the Congolese people from Kilangwa in The Poisonwood Bible. I hope I’m not like that. I like the people of Tagaqe very much, and I really did enjoy the party. The children made me laugh more than they grossed me out, and they all seem very well tempered. One little girl in particular, Sarle, kept me in stitches for most of the evening. All and all it was fun and I’d do it again.

August 10, 2006

Amy threw up the other night. She projectile vomited purple spew halfway across the bedroom. It looked like someone had murdered Barney with a blender. (Eggplant stir-fry). We’re not sure why, but most of the time we both feel like we’re on the verge of throwing up. I’ve puked in my snorkel 3 times. That’s disgusting. No matter how much you try to clean it out, you still taste the vomit for the rest of the dive. I even feel like puking right now. It’s a constant sensation of acid bubbling just at the top of my stomach. The same thing happened last time I was here. I attributed it to eating eggs. I thought my stomach wasn’t used to the amino acids, etc. At least last time, I puke one the way to snorkel and never IN my snorkel. But, I guess it wasn’t the eggs since I haven’t eaten any this time. Oh well, it’s livable just uncomfortable. Maybe some chocolate will help. *grin*

Yesterday Amy spent most of the day in bed. She was still feeling ill from the night before. I felt fine when I first woke up. I even did some yoga. I would have gone out to the ocean to collect algae, but it was raining hard. It’s been raining hard for the past several days. I ended up watching Ice Harvest with Kenyi and Namani (the guy from next door who likes her). That was an uncomfortable experience since most of the scenes took place in a seedy strip club. Kenyi and Namani kept making jokes in Fijian about the nudity and sex. Anyway, I talked with Namani for a while after the movie. He’s really nice. His father abandoned his family when Namani was a little boy and his youngest sister was only three months old. It was probably a blessing in disguise since his father was an abusive drunk. I’m sure it was difficult at first, but his mother is now a successful teacher in Suva and his brothers and sisters seem to be doing well too. Unfortunately his mother is now dating another drunken idiot, who also happens to be married to her cousin. Namani got in a huge fight with his mother about her poor decisions, so he moved to Tagaqe to live with his cousins, from Taveuni, who temporarily live in the lodge next to us. I hope it all works out for him and his family. Anyway, after Kenyi went to work and Namani left, I decided that regardless of the rain, I’d go out snorkeling. But, as I was getting ready, I began to feel really sick. I was overcome with nausea and had severe pain in my lower abdomen. It was terrible. I lay in bed, sheet white and tried not to vomit. A few hours later, Akisi came home and was determined to feed us oily stir-fry and “sweet potatoes”. We protested, but she persisted. I finally talked her down to just the “sweet potatoes”, which look like large plantains and taste like a mix between a potato and kasava. They are bland and starchy, so I thought I might be able to hold it down. I was wrong, not long after dinner I hurled off the front porch. It was terrible. I went to bed at 7:30 and slept a restless 11 hours.

It’s raining again today, but Amy and I were determined to get out and do some work. We both feel better, a little weak, but better. We dreaded heading out, but it wasn’t as bad as we thought. The visibility was poor and it was bone chilling cold, especially after almost 2 hours in the water, but we got stuff done and we both feel better about that. I even saw an octopus today! We were heading back in, but still searching for a particular alga to collect on our way. I was checking out a large, dead head of coral when I noticed something moving in a small hollowed out portion of the coral. It was a huge eye watching me! It took me a minute to realize that it was an octopus… a rather large octopus based on the size of its eye (more than an inch, 3 cm, across). I tried to show Amy, but it squished up into the crevices of the porous coral before she could see it. Then, when we were almost back to land, in only a few feet of water, I swam right up on a big eel. It was completely out of its hole, exposed. I almost put my hand right on it! It didn’t see me right away either, but as soon as it did, it was gone. We’re back for lunch now and processing samples. We’ll head out to a different site in an hour. I hope the rain lets up. It’s pouring. It’s raining so hard that we might drown without ever putting our heads under water! I hate going out in weather like this, but the prospect of seeing another octopus is more than tempting.

Random Rainy Day Thoughts... Aug. 9, 2006

It started raining this morning at 6:00 a.m. It is now 10:00 p.m. and it hasn’t let up for even 5 minutes. Our little hut is doing the best it can to protect us from the rain and stand up to the howling winds. The coconut trees are bowing to the ground. It’s kind of scary. So, of course, we didn’t make it to the ocean today, which kind of sucks since I had an experiment that I needed to get started in the Tabu area. I planned on having a day off on Saturday to visit the Tavuni Hill Fort, which is suppose to be really cool. But, since it’s been raining all day, and I have to start my experiment tomorrow and pull it up on Saturday… no free day for me. I’m just hoping, against all odds, that it isn’t raining tomorrow. I’ll probably try to go out even if it is raining. It will be miserable though. When it rains here, it gets very cold. I’m wearing three layers of clothing right now and I’m still cold.
Hmmm… what can I talk about now? I know… hair. Like the last time I visited Fiji, I decided to stop shaving. Unlike last time, I stopped shaving everything. I know what happens to my leg hair when I don’t shave, but I’ve never experimented with my pits. I’ve written about my leg hair in a previous blog. I still find the feeling of it blowing in the wind a strange experience. My pits are uneventful. Armpit hair doesn’t blow in the wind. At least mine doesn’t, thank jeebus! They aren’t as bushy as I imagined they’d get. Oh well, maybe I won’t ever have to shave again! Wouldn’t that be nice.
What else… how about a quick description of Fiji entertainment. Kenyi and Akisi keep the radio on, literally, non-stop at decibels that test the limit of eardrum resilience. It can be really annoying, especially if you have a headache (like I do right now). Also, the Fijian radio stations (there are 3) play the same things over and over and over and over again. You may say, “But, Sara, they do that in Atlanta too.” Uh, no. I think the station here has one CD which is played over and over again. The station that Kenyi and Akisi listen to plays hip-hop and light pop-rock. There’s a song called “I don’t want to be a murder anymore”, which I’ve heard 9 times today. I counted. It’s not even a good song. It’s probably one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard in my life. I prefer the radio station that plays all Fijian music because I have no clue if a song is played repetitively. They all sound the same to me, but I like them.

August 8, 2006

When Amy and I went out today, I finished my collections before she was done, so I swam around and watched marine life live. I moved along the channel edge, where it’s shallow on one side and very deep on the other due to the shear drop of the channel wall. There are also huge coral heads, like underwater mountains, large crevices and small caves all along the channel wall. I headed to where the channel opens into the ocean. It gets deeper and deeper as you move in that direction. I went further than I’ve ever gone before, probably because the visibility was so good. Anyway, I was holding onto a large, dead coral head with my legs hanging into a deep, wide crevice. I was facing the shallow part of the reef so I could watch a swarm of yellow and white fish descend on the reef like a plague of locusts. I was engulfed in a feeding frenzy of thousands of these small, beautiful fish when I suddenly had an urge to turn around. When I did, I was practically face to face with a 3 – 4 foot white-tip reef shark. It swam right past me, within a few feet, without paying me much attention at all. It was beautiful with its stark gray lines set against the deep blue of the channel. I watched it, fascinated, until it disappeared into the distance.
When I got back to the lodge, I sat on the front porch and watched the fruit bats migrate down from the hills for the night. They are beautiful to watch… from afar. They have a 2 – 3 foot wing span, and every night at dusk, they glide down the hills in search of their favorite fruit tree. Up close, they look like tattered, mutated rats and smell like musky urine and feces. I’ll just admire them from afar. It was a good day… an “I love Fiji” day.

A night in Suva... (8/7/06)

Amy and I went to Suva on Sunday to transport and process samples (8/6/06). I thought we’d get out of going to church this time. Thanks to Kirk and Terry, we were “lucky enough” to get to sit through church again and have lunch at the Chief’s house. Okay, so it’s not all THAT bad… usually. But, this time I was not happy with the Chief. After my initial resentment, I realized his behavior was cultural. I’m just not used to being treated with such little respect. When we got to his house after church, I walked in to the normal kava circle. I sat down behind him and to his left, which is where I’m supposed to sit. However, this time, he told me to “go in the kitchen and help with the cooking” in a very demeaning and gruff manner. He said, “No kava for you today.” I was peeved, so I said, “Fine! I don’t want kava anyway.” Amy and I went in the kitchen and Una said, “No, no. You go back and sit in the house.” We went back into the house and told the chief that Una didn’t want any help. He said, “You go back in there and tell her to give you something to do!”, like he was scolding a dog for peeing on the floor. I said, “I am no man’s servant!”… in my head. Grrrrrr! I think Kenyi and Una could tell I was livid. There was practically smoke coming out of my ears. I fumed for a while, then Kirk, Terry, Amy and I ate lunch. Terry told me that it was very big of me not to complain. I told him that I was complaining; he just couldn’t hear me. (Amy got the brunt of it). The reason the chief acted that way was because it was a very formal kava ceremony. They brought out the fanciest bowl, the men were not allowed to attend unless they were wearing a sulu and the talk was business and politics. Women are usually not even allowed in the room during one of these ceremonies. So… okay, I understand. But, I still resent being talked to like I’m expected to be subservient.
Needless to say, I was eager to leave and get to Suva. Once in Suva, however, I was miserable. The South Seas Private Hotel, where we stayed for one night, was terrible. The Lonely Planet guide described it as “reminiscent of a 1930’s asylum.” That’s exactly what it was like. The rooms were long and narrow with sterile, white cement walls. There were two plastic, Tinker Toy twin beds in a head to toe orientation (because the rooms were so long and narrow). Amy’s side of the room had a fan, mine had the window. Amy’s side had a small window above the door to the hallway through which a very bright light blinded her all night. My side had a window to the outside that let in noise from the street and a gazillion mosquitoes. The noise on the street turned out to be prostitutes. The mosquitoes turned out to be mutant. We weren’t allowed to use mosquito nets, mosquito coils or candles due to fire hazard, but I’m not exactly sure what part of the cement structure was in danger of catching on fire. So, I sprayed my bed and myself down with the highest grade DEET bug spray that I could find. I still woke up, from the approximately 2 hours of sleep that I got, with mountainous bug bites. Also, my pillow smelled like rotten milk and felt like it was stuffed with rat bedding. My one, tiny blanket smelled like B.O. There was only one bathroom on the whole floor and there was no hot water. If anyone reading this blog decides to go to Suva, Fiji… I recommend NOT staying in the South Seas Private Hotel.
The next day, I was happy to check out. We lugged all of our stuff to USP for a long day of work in the lab. What would normally take me 3 hours took 7 hours. It’s too complicated to go in to details. Needless to say, Amy and I didn’t leave Suva until 6:00 pm. We told Akisi we’d be back in time for dinner. Suva is nearly 2 hours from Tagaqe. We ended up stopping in Pacific Harbor, which is half way to Tagaqe, for dinner… we couldn’t wait. It was an excellent dinner with really good pineapple & rum drinks. When we tried to get a cab later, everyone seemed to think we were crazy. “It’s too late for a cab!” Huh? It wasn’t even 9:00 pm. After a long lecture, the lady at the restaurant called a friend for a “favor”. Of course, that meant we got reamed for the taxi ride to Tagaqe. Whatever. I was just glad to be back. I actually missed my little foam mattress bed! Akisi wasn’t happy with us for missing dinner and we got a lecture from her too. Dang! I just can’t win for losing. I’m beginning to think that the gods of Fiji are against me. Maybe they’re angry that I’m out on the reef chopping up their coral. Maybe it’s like Hawaii where you’re cursed if you remove a piece of lava from the island. I’m not sure, but Amy feels the same way. She has, like me, developed a love/hate relationship with Fiji. I really do love it. But, I also really do hate it.

Here’s another story to elaborate. Amy and I went snorkeling in the channel the other day. I popped up to see where Amy was and noticed some guy going through our stuff on the beach. I yelled at him, “Kua! Eh, Kua!! Tabu! Tabu!”, which means “stop” or “don’t that’s wrong”. He waved at me and kept going through our stuff. I was pretty much helpless since I was way out in the water. Anyway, he ended up not taking anything. But just before we left for Suva, we went back to the same spot. This time we hid our stuff in the bush behind a tree. Of course, it was gone when we got done snorkeling. I only lost a mesh bag, but Amy lost her dive knife, a pair of sunglasses, two shirts, and a really nice back-pack gear bag. Bummer. I guess we should have learned our lesson though, right? In addition, someone stole my sledge hammer right off our front porch! It’s not that it was expensive or irreplaceable, it just happened to be stolen the night before I had a huge collection day. It was incredibly inconvenient. Is someone trying to send me a message? Oh yeah, and the other night the guys next door had a party. They apparently decided to kick some guy out at three o’clock in the morning. He stumbled past our house screaming curses at them in Fijian. He was beyond three sheets to the wind. I was furious. Let me put it this way, if I had the power, I would have burnt him to the last ash with a terrible bolt of lightening. Instead, I stormed outside and screamed at him in a mixture of English and Fijian. I think “the girls” (Kenyi and Akisi) were a little shocked at my action. I don’t think they’re used to standing up for themselves. I would have done the same thing in the U.S., except I would have also threatened to call the police. Next time, I’ll threaten to call the Chief. He said he would have come over and punched the guy down for me. Okee-dokie then!

Tootsie, Fijian Style!

I met Kenyi’s best friend today. Her name is Jessica and she was kind of quiet, at least with me and Amy. She was giving Akisi an oil massage in the “living room” just before dinner. Amy and I were processing samples on the front porch, so we didn’t have much time to interact with her. However, Akisi introduced us just before dinner. There wasn’t enough room at the tiny kitchen table for everyone, so Kenyi and her friend Jessica ate dinner on the floor in the “living room”. During dinner, Akisi explained that Jessica is really a boy pretending to be a girl. He is the youngest of his siblings and his mother raised him like a girl. Akisi says that he’s gay, but I don’t know if he is attracted to men or if he just likes being a girl. There are quite a few Fijian men like Jessica. It’s a strange cultural phenomenon. I described it in a previous blog…. Most of the attractive female entertainers in Fijian shows are actually men. However, this was the first time I met a he/she in person. I honestly had no idea that she was a he.

Success!

August 3, 2006
After the shark scare on Tuesday, I thought I would skip the field work and go to Sigatoka. I didn’t. I ended up getting back in the water. However, this time I went to the side of the channel that I worked on last time I was here. The water is clearer, I know exactly where the corals are, and I’ve only seen a (small) shark there once. I just couldn’t let another day go by without accomplishing anything in the field. It seems like Fiji has been deliberately keeping me from her oceans. For three days last week pouring rain and typhoon-like winds kept us inside. So, Amy and I didn’t get very much work done in the field. However, on Saturday we caught a break in the morning, exactly when we needed it. We wanted to go to the Tabu (pronounced Tam-boo) area, which is the Marine Management Protection Area owned by the village. The site is so shallow that you can only get to it at high tide. Even at high tide, the corals are only in a few feet of water. It’s not the most beautiful or glamorous area I’ve ever seen. There’s a lot of algae cover and sand, but it’s my favorite place to snorkel. The Tabu area is off limits to most activities, including fishing, so there are a lot of beautiful fish and huge mollusks. It’s also the only place I’ve seen octopi in Fiji. Anyway, Amy and I caught just enough of a break in the weather, exactly during high tide, to get out and collect a coral called Pocillopora damicornis. Amy has a type of bacteria that is a known pathogen of this coral. We infected the coral in a make-shift wet lab that we’ve set up on the porch of our lodge. Amy is going to extract the coral to check for anti-microbial compounds and I’m going to look for genes that are differentially expressed in response to disease infection. If all goes as planned it should be a very interesting paper.
On Sunday, we weren’t allowed to do any work or go to the beach for any reason. It’s the “Day of Rest”, so no field work that day either, which was frustrating since it was the first beautiful day in a string bad weather. We managed to get work done in our room though. We were “writing letters to our families” as far as anyone knew. Monday the visibility was terrible, and Tuesday was the shark. This is why on Tuesday afternoon, I chose to get back in the water rather than go to Sigatoka. I collected the coral, Porites lobata, to expose to pig effluent. It was better than nothing. I spent the rest of the day re-scheduling my weeks in Tagaqe… shifting my experiments and collection times. I also redesigned my field experiment so that I don’t have to swim over the murky water where the shark was spotted.
When Amy got home that night she could see that I was stressed and concerned about getting my work done. We discussed our work plan for Thursday and for the next few days. We woke up early on Thursday, put together our field bags and gathered up our gear. By 9 am we were on the beach and making an entry plan. To my delight, we found the corals that I had been seeking for the past few days. I spent a grueling 4+ hours (in a row!) in the water sledge hammering nails into the reef, numbering coral colonies at each sight, chiseling small pieces of coral for my first collection, and taking water and sediment samples. I did this for 3 sites, 5 coral colonies per site. It was exhausting, but extremely fulfilling. I finally accomplished what I set out to do, or at least an important part of it. Today will be just as busy, and I hope, just as fulfilling.

Shark!

August 1, 2006
Today was another disappointing, unsuccessful day. I’m becoming very concerned that I may not finish my project, and I’m not sure what to do about it. Let me begin with last night. After my second snorkel, I came in and bathed as best I could to get the effluent from the pig farm off, then had a snack of some weird Japanese trail mix stuff. After a while, I started having sharp pains in my stomach. I lay down for a while and did some work before Akisi called me to dinner. I was feeling a little better at this point, but about an hour after dinner, the pains returned. I’m not sure what caused it, but I was preparing for a long night on the toilet with Ralph and Hairy (the spider). Fortunately that never happened and I slept through the night.
I woke up this morning a little weak and nauseated. I really didn’t feel like going out, but one has to do what one has to do to get the job done. Right? So, after a bite of cereal I packed up my gear and walked past the pig farm to the beach. Jay Jay (the dog) joined me and had a grand time attacking coconuts and pigs as we hiked through the bush. It was kind of nice to have some company (Amy is still in Suva). Anyway, I mustered up the energy, put on my gear and began my trek through the surf to the deeper waters that harbor the coral. I was about hip deep and putting on my fins when I heard yelling and whistling from the beach across the tidal creek. I could make out two figures of young men from the village. They were frantically waving their arms and yelling something. I cupped my hands to my ear to see if I could hear what they were saying. A third man joined them and one of them began to climb a coconut tree. Usually when this happens, I just wave and move on because everyone here likes to say “hi” and be acknowledged in return. However, these men seemed a bit more frantic than usual. So I moved slightly closer. This set them off in a frenzy of hand waving. Finally, all three of them at once yelled, “Shark!”. Crap. My first inclination was to run as fast as I could through the water to the safety of the beach. But, sharks are attracted to thrashing water, so I moved as slowly and as calmly as I could towards shallow water. My heart was racing and as soon as I reached shore I turned to see if I could spot the shark. Sure enough, about 20 feet to the right of where I had been standing I could see something pop up now and then out of the water. It gave me the shivers.
You may be wondering why the presence of a four to five foot shark bothers me now when a week ago I was in the water with 15 foot Bull Sharks. It has to do more with the situation than the shark itself. The majority of shark attacks around the world occur in shallow, murky water. This is exactly the kind of water that I need to snorkel through to get to my (potential) sites. Sometimes visibility is only 3 feet. I could easily swim up on a shark without knowing it, and a shark could easily mistake me for food. This is becoming a serious problem, and I may need to re-think my whole plan. I can assure you that after 3 Fijian men were screaming for me to get out of the water because of a shark that I certainly did not get back in. I considered it, but instead I begrudgingly walked back home and wrote this blog. I guess I’ll go to Sigatoka today. I don’t want to get in the water until Amy gets back. Having a second person around won’t stop me from getting mauled by a shark, but at least there’s a 50-50 chance it will get her instead. *grin*

Fish Heads, Fish Heads; Roly-poly Fish Heads

This is a story for all of you fishermen (or women) out there. I’ve discovered a new way to catch fish. There are many ways that people fish here in Fiji. There’s line fishing. This is similar to the way we fish, but instead of a pole, they use a plastic bottle. There’s also spear fishing. Not the lame spear fishing that people do under water with a pressurized spear gun. This is spear fishing from the surface with a wooden spear that may or may not have a sharp metal tip. I described another method of fishing in a previous blog in which the fish are corralled into a net and then bashed to death with sticks. I’m not a big fan of that method since it’s fairly violent and makes the ocean smell of blood. This newer method is related to the net & bash method, but there’ an even better twist. Instead of bashing the fish to death with sticks, you just bite their heads to kill them. Yep. Crushing fish skulls with your teeth. Fortunately, I have not witnessed this method of fishing yet. It was described to me by the rest of the group who went to Taveuni.

Bummer

July 31, 2006
Today wasn’t a very successful day. Amy left for Suva this morning. She’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, but that leaves me two days with no snorkeling buddy. Today and tomorrow are essential days because I really need to get my sights set up before the tides change. I didn’t think it would be a big deal snorkeling alone, since I did it last time. However, last time, I was working on the other side of the channel in relatively clear water. This time, I’m working on the side of the channel in the direct path of the tidal creek. Thus, there is more sediment (from terrestrial runoff), more algae (from the nutrients) and more debris in general. This makes for very poor visibility. In addition, I’m not familiar with the reef on this side and I’m having a hard time finding it without swimming over murky, shark infested water. Granted, the sharks are small (3 – 5 feet), and there are only one or two (that I know of) but they’re big enough to take a significant chunk out of me. Needless to say, when I went out this morning during high tide and visibility was less than 5 feet, I was not the intrepid field scientist of my imagination. I swam around for an hour trying to find a specific coral with no luck. When my fear of being eyed as a tasty treat finally got the better of me, I decided to head back in for lunch and try again at high tide. My disappointment in myself was temporarily forgotten when I saw the most beautiful rainbow ever created in nature. It was a double rainbow that started just at the reefs edge. The lower arch was wide and thick and ended in the trees that lined the white, sandy beach. I could actually see through it, which made the trees on the other side appear, through the spectrum of colors, as if out of a fairy tale. The upper arch was long and thin. It started in the ocean and ended somewhere in the hills. I stood in awe for what seemed like an eternity.
After lunch and a quick rest, I headed back out to the reef to see if I could find the reef that I needed at low tide. I was able to walk much further out, bypassing the scary, sandy area. However, when I got to where I thought the corals would be there was only algae and rubble. I swam over to a rock outcropping so I could stand up and survey the scene. I saw a large splash to my right. I’m almost positive it was a shark, based on the way it moved. But at the time, I convinced myself that it was just a big fish. However, it didn’t help that there was a raft of floating debris including coconuts, which looked like human heads bobbing in the surf after a gruesome shark attack. The yellow life vest floating among them only added fuel to my imagination. The visibility was worse than before, presumably because the storms from the past few days had increased the runoff in the area, and the tide was going out. So, I couldn’t mark my sites today. I ended up going to the other side of the channel and practicing a collection and transplanting method that I have not tried before. At least I got something done. When I got back, I couldn’t get the smell of pig effluent off of me. I rinsed all of my gear and showered… Oh well.
On a side note, I just went to the bathroom. I was sitting there peaceably when a spider that was, literally, the size of my open hand ran past me within centimeters of my sandal-clad foot. I’ve seen them around the house before, but usually in the corners of the outside porch. They strongly resemble a brown recluse, but those don’t exist here. That knowledge is comforting, but doesn’t stop me from emanating a slight squeal when something whisks past me out of the darkness, especially when I’m vulnerable on the toilet.

A Righteous Day….

Righteous in the completely, mind-numbingly boring religious sense. Amy and I went to church this morning. It lasted for over two hours and, like last time, was all in Fijian. Unfortunately, this time, there were fewer choir songs, which is the only highlight of the service. An Aussie couple from the Hideaway resort sat next to us. It was amusing to see their anticipation at first. But, after 30 minutes of sitting in church with only one or two other adult Fijians and a score of fidgety children singing songs on and off, they asked me when church was suppose to begin. I said usually at 10:00 (it was 10:30), but that it was based on “Fiji time”. At 10:45 the adults began strolling in and sitting down… by 11:00 the full Choir had arrived. The restless couple next to me began to get excited once again. They asked me if it was my first time. I sighed and said, “No. I’ve been several times.” They were curious to see what Fijian church was like. The look on their faces when I told them that the service was all in Fijian and would last until 12:30 was priceless. I know I’m evil, but honestly, I needed to entertain myself or I would fidget like the children and be smacked in the head with a stick by Luke, “The Disciplinarian”. Anyway, halfway into the service I looked at the Aussie couple next to me and then over at Amy, not one of them could mask the draining, tired look of pure boredom and anxiousness to get out. I was nearly out of my mind with boredom too when I remembered the book “Red Tent”. It’s the story of Jacob’s family, in the book of Genesis, as told by his daughter, Dinah. I decided to read those chapters of Genesis and see how it compared to Red Tent. I became so absorbed in the story that I didn’t even hear the preacher say, in English, that we were free to go. The Aussie couple practically climbed over me to get out.
Once out of church, Amy and I went to the Chief’s house for a brief Kava ceremony and lunch. It was awkward because we don’t know the proper decorum, so we relied on the Chief to direct us. He would say something to me, like “Sit here, just behind me. And, cross your legs this way.” I would in turn have to direct Amy. You’d think I would have remembered from last time, but the Chief even had a hard time with the specifics. At one point, he told us to move around him and sit on his right side. One of the elders muttered something, then the Chief said “Oh, sah-ŕee. I make a mistake. Come ova hëŕ again.” So, we gathered our skirts in the appropriate manner and crawled on our knees (because that’s how you have to “walk”) back over to our original spots. There was a bit more shuffling before the ceremony actually began. The kava was mixed and the leaders drank from the first bowls. Amy and I were included in the rounds to follow. After my third bowl, I was really hoping the Chief would let us move over to the food. I don’t have fond memories of kava. Fortunately, since we’re women, we were sent over to the food before the men. Una (the Chief’s wife), Amy and I sat around a cloth on the floor and ate delicious! kasava and taro leaves in coconut milk. (Akisi made the taro leaves in coconut milk. She made us the “vegetarian” version… without the canned corned beef. Thank jee-bus!). After lunch, I asked the Chief if I could get a picture with him. He said, “NO! You have a boyfriend.” Such a tease! I told him I needed to make him jealous. The elders seemed to get a real kick out of that. They were practically rolling around laughing. I got a great picture with the Chief and an albino Fijian.
I missed Akisi during lunch. She said that she would join us, but never showed up. It turns out that she got in a fight with her dad (the Big Kahuna) because she wanted to take us back to the lodge for lunch. She was embarrassed that we would be sitting on the floor. The Chief told her that we (me and Amy) are Fijian girls now and we could sit on the floor like all other Fijians. I certainly hope she didn’t think that I minded sitting on the floor. I sit on the floor and eat dinner at home all the time. Oh well. It’s too bad though, because she sulked back home and missed lunch.
While I’m on the subject, let me tell you a little bit about Kenyi and Akisi. I really like them. At times, it’s still awkward because everyone’s trying to be polite and, although they speak English very well, there is still a bit of a language barrier. For example, when I make a joke that they don’t understand, or they try to tell me something but it just doesn’t cross over into English. Akisi is the older daughter. She is shy and somewhat reserved. I think she may even have a tendency towards depression. But, she loves to talk to us and asks a lot of questions. She cooks dinner every night and it’s always excellent. For example, tonight she made a green bean, onion and garlic stir fry with some sort of sweet potato-like tuber. It was really good. Thursday night is going to be “Indian Night”. We’re all getting together and making Dahl soup with homemade roti! I can’t wait. I feel really bad that she cooks for us because she spends all day cleaning rooms at the Naviti resort. She must be exhausted when she gets home. I’ve tried many times to cook for her, but she won’t let me. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I pretty much ruined her frying pan when I tried to make a grilled cheese sandwich on their kerosene stove. Within a few seconds the sandwich was charcoal. I didn’t realize that cooking with a kerosene stove is like cooking with a blow torch.
Anyway, on to Kenyi. She is the youngest of the Chief’s children and turns 21 in a few months. She is spunky, outgoing and daring. She’s also very funny. She and Akisi talk a mile a minute in Fijian and crack each other up. She also cracks me and Amy up at dinner. Kenyi does the dishes every night, which I’ve also protested, to no avail. And, like Akisi, she works all day at a resort, but she works the boutique. I like to tease Kenyi because one of the men from next door has a crush on her. He’s from an island village called Taveuni. It’s very far away; you can only get there by plane. He and some other men from his village are working construction on a new resort up the road. He comes by every day asking for her. In fact, he’s here tonight having “tea” (aka Ovaltine) with them in the kitchen. Akisi told me that he asked “What’s for dinner?” She explained that it was all vegetables since we’re vegetarians. She was referring to all of us, since she and Kenyi have become temporary vegetarians while we’re here. They think it will make them healthier. Anyway, this guy said, “Well if you’re vegetarians, then I’m a vegetable!” Akisi seemed to find this hilarious. Okay, it was a little funny. I’m dying to see if he and Kenyi become an item. Akisi is practically engaged to a guy from the village who lives nearby. I was completely shocked to discover this since she has never mentioned him… ever. I suspect there’s a bit of cultural pressure involved in her relationship with him. Interesting…. It’s “As the World (in Fiji) Turns”.

Rat Race

27 July 2006
Rat Race
Amy and I finally moved into our room last night. I’m sure Kenyi was happy to have her own room back. The room we’re in was being used as storage. There was a very old, torn queen sized mattress, a single bed with a wooden frame, boxes of old toys and school work, and some workman helmets and tools. Oh, there was also another bug-ridden foam mattress that had obviously been used by the resident rats for bedding. It reminded me a lot of the sheds, or “little” house on Grandpa’s farm… mostly because of the smell (dust and old stuff). I’m not complaining; it was actually a bit nostalgic.
The funny part is that the old, wooden bed was going to be Amy’s. The Chief provided me with a metal frame to raise my new mattress off the floor. It was actually quite nice. Amy was not exactly thrilled with her new bed, especially since the mattress was very old and kind of smelly. But, we double checked it for bed bugs and didn’t find any, but that’s not the best indicator since those buggers are masters of hiding. Anyway, we swept the floor, hung clean curtains and moved our stuff into the room. Later, I walked in to find Amy Saran wrapping her entire mattress. I laughed so hard I nearly peed. In addition, as she moved her mattress to wrap it, she discovered at least 20 ounces of rat poop under her bed. My inclination was to leave it since she couldn’t smell it, it wasn’t going to touch her and it didn’t bite. That wasn’t exactly the same way Amy felt. We had to move her mattress and lift up the heavy wooden frame so she could sweep up the rat poop. Fair enough, I didn’t argue.
Based on the amount of rat poop in the room, the foam mattress ripped to shreds for bedding, and later, the sound of the Fiji International Rat Derby in our attic, I’m pretty sure we displaced an entire civilization of rats from their rat kingdom in our room. We didn’t sleep a wink the first night due to what sounded like 20 lb rats clamoring clumsily from one end of the house to the other, over and over and over again. I can’t possibly imagine what they were doing. There is also a nest of baby rats in the attic just over Amy’s bed. We can hear the “little ones” squeaking when the frantic adults stop their silly rat race. I also dreamed all night of rat retaliation. It’s too gory to describe.
The moral of this story is that the rat race is a pointless waste of time and energy which causes you stress and frustration while getting you nowhere… and makes you miss out on the little things in life. *grin*

July 30, 2006
We’ve been in our room for several nights now and have adapted to the sound of the rats. Amy even had a close encounter of the rodent kind last night. She had gone into the kitchen to brush her teeth and immediately ran back out. It was really funny. When she saw Ralph, our rat (or at least one of them), and he saw her, they both froze instantaneously, then each high-tailed it in opposite directions. Ralph almost knocked all the dishes off the shelf as he clamored back up the wall into his attic hole. Amy didn’t say anything as she ran into the other room because Akisi and Kenyi don’t seem to mind the rats and we don’t want to insult them. We also don’t want them to kill the rats. If they knew the rats bothered us they would do everything they could to get rid of them. People may think we’re crazy for not wanting to kill the rats. I know Terry does, since he tried to buy us rat poison in Sigatoka yesterday, but I wouldn’t let him. For me, it’s the burden of rat murder on my conscious. I couldn’t live with myself if I caused so many babies to be orphaned. And now that I can sleep through the rat derby, I don’t really mind Ralph and his family. Amy’s not so sentimental and wouldn’t mind rat blood on her hands. But, we’ve both agreed that we’d rather not deal with the aftermath of rat genocide. Not only would the dead bodies somehow have to be removed, those bodies that weren’t in plain sight, i.e. rats that had met their final demise in the walls, would create a terrible odor. The noise and infrequent encounters I can deal with, the smell of rotting rat carcasses, I cannot. So, we will continue to peacefully coexist with the rat family and may even meet their children someday.

Shark Bait

I’m going to tell my shark diving story now, but first a quick update on my living situation. Amy and I never found an air mattress, but I did by a newer, bug free foam mattress with a permanent cloth cover in Sigatoka. It cost $75 dollars. It’s worth the peace of mind. I also had my first shower here. It’s a little worse than I remember it because it smelled like very pungent urine the whole time. I thought maybe someone had peed in the foot bath. This is a basin about the size of a large sink and just over a foot deep. It sits under the “shower head” and I think they fill it with water, squat in it and scoop the water over themselves to take a bath. I didn’t do that. I straddled the foot bath, washed off in the icy-cold water as best I could and made every effort not to let any of the inch deep water in the cement room touch my feet. After further inspection, however, I was convinced that the smell was NOT coming from the foot basin and was probably coming from the area where the toilet drained (this is right next to the shower). I’m not sure, I didn’t investigate further. Anyway, I wish I could show you the pictures of the bed-bugs, bed-bug ridden bed, shower, and “stove”. But I can’t get any of my pictures to upload over the internet in Sigatoka. It will have to wait until my next trip to Suva.
Okay… Now for the shark feeding dive! I can’t believe I actually went on a shark feeding dive. Sharks are one of my biggest fears. I’m totally fascinated with them, and I respect them very much, but they scare the be-jesus out of me (as you can tell by the pre-diving picture on smugmug). I never imagined that I would go on a shark feeding dive. But, Mark Hay (one of the professors in our department) planned on going and asked if anyone else wanted to go. It just happens that I’ve been pondering a way to pump adrenaline back into my life. I’ve gone sky-diving, cliff jumping and the like, but I hadn’t come up with my next great adventure. What perfect timing! So, I signed on. The night before the dive I was beginning to wonder if I’d actually thought this through thoroughly. In fact, I was hoping that the seas would be too rough, or the weather would be bad so the trip would be cancelled. You see… I would never back out, that would make me a quitter, but I could still imagine ways that I wouldn’t have to go. Even the next morning, when we had to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to make our 8:00 dive which was 45 minutes down the Coral Coast to Pacific Harbor, the “Adventure Capital of Fiji”, I was dreaming of reasons the dive would be cancelled. In all honesty, only a small part of me wanted the trip cancelled. I was just as excited as I was scared.
Once we got to the dive shop, I grilled the guy who checked us in as to how many people had been eaten. Zero. How many people had been bitten? Ummm… I think he said none. He said that they’d been doing it for 8 years with no casualties and that it was safe. Then he asked us if we all had full wet suites and gloves. I assumed it was because the water was cold. No. He said it’s because you can’t show any of your whitey-white flesh because it looks like a fish to sharks. Now, how do you think they figured that out?
Once all 12 divers and 4 guides were on the boat, Papa, the Fijian in charge, briefed us on our first dive. It was a bit disconcerting to see large, red “Danger Zones” marked on the dive map. I’m pretty sure they weren’t marked off under water. What if we accidentally swam into the Danger Zone, even partially? Would we immediately be eaten by a giant shark?
Before I go into the details of the dives, let me describe to you what was going through my head. I have certain recurring dreams when I’m under a lot of stress. In these dreams, I’m diving to collect coral, when all of a sudden a huge shadow passes over me. The shadow is so large that I think it’s some kind of ocean liner vessel. But when I look up, all I see is a dark, open mouth full of glistening, razor-sharp teeth attached to a menacing shark, usually of the man-eating species. The rest of my dream involves me trying to get away or hide from the shark whose sole purpose in life is to devour me completely. So, all I could imagine was a huge shark, waiting eagerly under the boat for me to plunge right into his watering mouth. It didn’t help that as soon as we anchored the boat, the guides began chumming and within seconds the water boiled in a feeding frenzy of hundreds of dark shapes.
I was terrified as we geared up, and not at ALL happy about jumping into a bubbling feast. But, as soon as we were in and I looked around, every drop of fear vanished. The spectacle of fish all around me was so beautiful I almost cried. We descended to 100 feet where there was a make shift wall of coral rubble to kneel behind. In front of us, in the arena, Papa held onto a metal pole that had been driven into the ocean floor. Beside the pole was a large metal bin. Inside the metal bin was several tons of dead fish. The other three guides took up their positions, two on our flanks and one patrolling the water behind us. Each held a large metal stick with a pointed end. This is what they use to “train” the sharks and keep them at bay. Sharks have very sensitive skin around their nose and mouth area. This is where they have the largest cluster of electromagnetic sensors. It’s very painful for a shark to get poked in that region. So, if you ever get attacked by a shark, you are supposed to punch it in the nose, or between the eyes. Yeah, right. Anyway, Papa opened the bin and began pulling out fish carcasses. The fish went crazy. The terrapin created a tornado of feeding around him. It was so cool! But, the wall of fish was so thick that it was difficult to see the Bull sharks as they approached. One of the guides picked up a large plastic pipe with caps on either end. He swam several yards above Papa and opened the pipe. It was also full of dead fish, so the terrapin and other fish followed him up into the water column. The Bull sharks stayed with Papa and gingerly approached to feed. I was surprised at how timid they were. In fact, they didn’t even really feed at this point, the initial dive was just to attract them. We could only stay at 100 feet for 17 minutes due to safety guidelines for scuba. Our next stop was at 30 feet for 30 – 40 minutes. Papa stayed at 100 feet to distract the Bulls while one of the other guides with the long white tube fed several black tip sharks (probably 8 – 10 feet long). These sharks are so sleek and graceful. It was stunning to watch them move.
Once back on the boat, we warmed up and waited for our next dive. It would be at 40 feet, just below where we fed the black tips. Papa told us that it was very important that we kneel down, hold onto the “wall” and be still. He warned us not to kick our fins too much because it agitated the 20 foot Tiger Shark that might approach. Tiger Sharks are very curious and not afraid of anything. He said that this particular Tiger Shark likes to swim right over the group of divers so close that she’ll bump you and could possibly knock you down. We were supposed to either lean forward laying flat on our bellies or limbo on our back when she swam over. Crap, I was scared again. But, once more, as soon as I was in the water, all my fears evaporated. This time, the 15 foot Bull Sharks came up to Papa and took the fish heads right out of his hand. Papa would hold the head up, wave it around and move it behind him in an arch as the shark approached. The shark would gently take it out of Papa’s hand and swim directly towards us until it was just a few feet away and then immediately turn to swim away. I was like a kid at Christmas; I was so giddy with excitement. I even laughed, cheered and clapped my hands under water. The only disappointment of the dive was that the Tiger Shark never showed. Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to do it again. We’re thinking about this Saturday.
(BTW, I have some awesome video of the dive to show everyone. I can’t wait!)

Tagaqe

The amazing story of my shark dive will have to wait until I can concentrate on writing the story. I don’t want to miss the details. For now, you get to read about my trip to Tagaqe and my first night here. I was wrought with worry all day yesterday as to my reception in the village. I was relying on the fact that Dr. Aalbersberg from USP contacted Ratu Timoce (aka Chief Jim) and told him that we would be coming. I also sent a letter and care package to the chief several months ago. It’s apparently a very bad idea to surprise the chief with an impromptu visit. I also wasn’t exactly sure of the protocol for presenting the gift of kava. I knew that I needed to say something about an offering for Savu Savu and thank the chief and the village for letting us stay with them and work on the reef. I just planned on winging it.
Once Amy and I packed up all of our gear and supplies, we took one look at our stuff and realized we’d have a serious problem getting to Tagaqe. We had between us: 2 large suitcases, 2 small suitcases, 2 sets of scuba gear, a large Rubbermaid container with all of our food, 2 huge coolers full of lab supplies, some random boxes and bags, our backpacks and the kava. I asked the guard at USP to help me call a very large taxi thinking that (like last time) they would send a big station wagon. This guard didn’t really know what to do, but since everyone here likes to try to be helpful he just went to the road and flagged down a taxi. I could have done that. At least the taxi was a station wagon though. However, as soon as the taxi driver saw our stuff he laughed and said he’d call a bigger taxi. “The BIGGEST taxi in Suva,” he said. Another, crappier station wagon showed up with a huge spare tire in the back. His freakin’ taxi was bigger than the one he called! I know he was also “just trying to help” but most of the time the “help” here just makes things worse. Anyway, we proceeded to load all of our crap into the “BIGGEST taxi in Suva”. Once we’d gotten nearly everything crammed into the back, the driver decided he didn’t want to do it. He would only take us if we took BOTH of his taxis. Cost - $160. I said no way, because if worse came to worse we could rent a van for $130. But, as impossible as it seemed, I was convinced we could get our stuff into a station wagon taxi. So the guard told the guy to leave and he called another taxi service. He said that his cousin had a better car, a bigger car that was gas not diesel. I’m not sure what made gas better than diesel, but okay. We waited for a while and then I heard Amy say, “Oh dear.” I turned around to a four door sedan taxi. No station wagon, no van, just a car with a trunk. All I could do was laugh. I was sure there was no WAY we’d get all our stuff into the little car. Once again, I underestimated Fijians. Those two guys got all of our stuff and US into that little car. It must have been like the Tardis! Small on the outside, but full of extra-dimensional space on the inside. So, we’re off to Tagaqe!!!
During the trip, the cab driver asked me about staying in the village and if the chief knew I was coming. He warned me that it’s not a good idea to surprise the chief. Needless to say, he didn’t help sooth my worried mind. After a very long, very exhausting cab ride (1.5 hours) we made it to Tagaqe. You must also remember that it was Sunday, the day of rest, so I was worried about barging into the village and disrupting their peaceful day. Oh well, ya gotta do whatcha gotta do. The cab driver and Amy waited as I went into the village to find the chief. A little girl named Elizabeth Dora escorted me to his cabin. She asked his son to get him, but the chief was asleep. One thing I was sure of was not to disturb a sleeping chief. I told her we’d come back later. However, now we were in a situation where all of our crap was packed into a taxi whose driver, I’m sure, wanted to go back home to Suva. So, I made the executive decision to unload all of our stuff where I thought we’d be staying. As we pulled into the forestry lodge area, I noticed that every single one of the lodges looked full. Interesting. Last time I was here not a single lodge had power, let alone people. Not a good sign. Fortunately, the taxi driver spotted a Fijian woman and told her who we were etc. It turns out she was the chiefs youngest daughter, Kenyi, and she remembered me from last time. Whew! She and Akisi, the chief oldest daughter, moved all of our stuff into their new house (one of the lodges). I learned from them that all of the lodges were, in fact, occupied. Double damn. They told us we could stay with them. That’s very nice of them, but Amy and I need to set up make-shift labs, we both have dangerous chemicals that we need to work with and we can’t afford to be distracted all the time. We really need a place out of the way, to ourselves. I also think that they were just being polite, because we have enough stuff to fill up one of their rooms completely. Oh well, maybe the chief would figure something out.
Kenyi and Akisi walked with us to the village so we could see the chief and they could deliver a batch of four new puppies to him. I’m not sure what they do with the puppies, but the chief did keep saying something about “if I eat dog, YOU eat dog.” I don’t THINK they really eat dogs, but who knows. I certainly won’t be eating dog, even if it causes and international incident. Anyway, the girls took us to Una, the chief’s wife. She didn’t recognize me at first because I wasn’t wearing my spectacles (glasses). The chief had gone to evening church, so we had to wait for him. (Really?!? Evening church? The morning church service is 2+ hours long! Do they really need an evening service?) Anyway, we eventually went into the chief’s house and sat around on the floor waiting for him. It was kind of awkward because we ended up having to wait for an hour. Finally, I saw a large, looming shadow of a man in the doorway. He was looking at me very confused for a minute. Then his daughter spoke to him in Fijian. I’m not sure what she said, but he sat down still looking very confused. I introduced myself and once he realized who I was he freaked out, grabbed me and gave me a big hug and kiss. Okay, that’s a good sign. He told me he didn’t recognize me without my spectacles. I offered him the kava and all went smoothly. Then he started asking me questions etc. He asked me if I was married and I told him yes. I hate lying, but it really makes things easier here. (Although, I must not be a good liar, because his daughters still don’t believe me that I’m married. Interesting.) BTW, my husband’s name is Mark, and he’s pretty much a collage of all my past boyfriends. Anyway, I’m really irritated with Bill Aalbersberg because he didn’t tell the chief that we were coming until a few days ago. The chief said that if he’d known sooner (i.e. back when I ASKED Bill to tell the chief we’d be coming) he would have saved one of the lodges for us. As of right now, we don’t have any place to stay except for with his daughters. I don’t think they’re any more happy about it than we are.
Anyway, so we chatted it up some more with the chief, said our good nights and then headed back to the lodges. The four of us hung out for a bit and drank some tea. Kenyi and Akisi were fascinated that Amy and I are vegetarians. They couldn’t understand what we eat if we don’t eat meat. They also assumed that anyone who goes to University is vegetarian. We tried to explain it and let them know that we’re the exception rather than the rule. Anyway, the night wore on and I was getting tired. I thought we’d be staying in the extra room, but they said it was too dirty and they’d have to clean it before we could move in. So, Kenyi gave up her room for the night and moved one of the beds from the extra room into her room so I’d have a place to sleep. Amy took Kenyi’s bed and Kenyi moved into Akisi’s room. It was very nice of them, and Amy and I felt bad, especially since both of them had to get up at 5:30 in the morning to be at work at the resort up the road (the Hideaway).
I lay down on my bed and pulled out the book that I’ve been reading. I was very happy to be settled down and able to read for a while before going to sleep. That sense of peace and comfort was very short lived. In the middle of the paragraph I was reading, I noticed a large bug that looked like a mix between a really big flea and a tick. It was reddish brown, with horizontal stripes and was, literally, paper thin. It was so thin that I could see through it and make out its organs. I also tried to smoosh it to death by slamming my book shut, but that didn’t do anything. I ended up smooshing it between two pages with my hands. If you didn’t know what a bed bug was, you do now. Before I go any further, let me describe my “bed” to you. It is essentially a rectangular piece of foam, like the kind used in car seats, with a sheet over it. That’s it. So after I killed the bug last night, I pulled back the sheet and about fifteen other bed bugs turned around quickly, gasped and scurried around in confusion trying to hide in the nearest foam hole they could find. Every hair on my body immediately stood on end and I was in the air before I could blink an eye. I knew that for every bug I could see there was probably 100 more that I couldn’t see. It made me physically sick to my stomach. I showed Amy and she freaked out. I didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t any place else to sleep. Amy was in a tiny twin bed. However, her bed was at least off the floor and had a regular mattress (it was Kenyi’s regular bed). The only thing I could do was cram into bed with Amy. It was really uncomfortable and both of us kept feeling like we had bugs crawling on us all night. In addition to the disgusting, repulsive bed bugs, Kenyi and Akisi have a female dog named Jay Jay (she’s the one who just gave birth to the pups). Anyway, Jay Jay is apparently crazy and barks at everything including the wind. She decided to spend the night right outside of our bedroom window and bark all night long. It wasn’t a low, deep bark either. It was a high pitched ear-drum piercing bark. She also attacked a cat, a pig and something that was probably a chicken in the middle of the night. Needless to say I’m very tired today. Amy and I have one goal… to find air mattresses in Sigatoka. Bed bugs won’t get on air mattresses will they? There aren’t any hiddey-holes for them to burry themselves away. Oh, that brings me to one last comment. Amy and I moved the bug ridden mattress onto the front porch this morning. I hope it’s not insulting, but I figured Kenyi wouldn’t want the bed bugs in her bed (if they aren’t already there). Also, I did a closer investigation of the foam this morning, in the light… I found multiple clusters of hundreds of baby bed bugs all OVER the foam pad. Eeewwww!!!!!
I can’t believe I have to stay here for another month. I don’t think I’m going to make it. My love to you all if I never see you again.