Traditional Funeral

A Tribute to Our Jolly Ole Chief


Our chief passed away. Last Saturday. He was a happy fella. Turns out, the chief gets a very special funeral. Men could be seen (and heard) blowing into large trumpet shells, making sounds that resemble the bass keys of a church organ (Lydia decided it was the kazoos at the World Cup)… ALL NIGHT LONG. They made a continuous stream of humming from 4 PM the day before the funeral until the church service the morning of the burial. There were also tribal men (well, the youth boys of my village), in traditional grass skirts and war paint, guarding the chief’s house. We even had to have a chauffeur to get anywhere near the ceremonies. After a night of wailing snail shells we attended the burial on the beach. Our chiefly land is outside of the village towards one of our settlements.

The chief's house being guarded by men in traditional wear.
Salabogi blowing the trumpet shell around dusk.

After the casket arrived, the men wrapped woven mats round the box, strategically placed rope under the casket to lower it into the hole. A prayer was said, the people threw a little sand onto the casket and then men began shoveling. After a small stone barrier was built around the burial site a handmade paper cloth, called a tapa or masi, was placed over the natural tombstone followed by the family laying flowers atop. Very quickly it was all over and the people loaded back into the boats to head back to the village.


Carrying the casket to the boats.
Loading the boat.
Funeral at the beach.

Wrapping the casket in woven mats.

Blowing the snail shells during the burial.


Forming the barrier to fill in with sand.
Laying a masi cloth on top.

Exciting side note about funerals:

1. I get a HUGE chunk of roast. They killed four cows for the late chief! So Lydia and I ate four meals in a row with beef tips.
2. I am given a new woven mat, which is always a blessing because mine deteriorate within eight months.
3. The cultural experience is priceless. How many people can say they have gone to a chief’s funeral?
4. All my educated friends come into the village. The friends and family of the people that live in the village year round come back to mourn the death. So exciting catch up time!

Collecting Sasa

So, I don’t think many of you over there in America really understand what “work” is. Stomping around in foot deep mud through mosquito and spider infested forests to find freshly fallen coconut fronds should be an Olympic sport. Lydia was a trooper when she decided to help me get sasa (coconut leaves) from the forest, up my steep mountain, and into my village.

The following day I sunned the coconut leaves, during the funeral, and afterward Lydia and I placed the coconut leaves on the floor of my house in preparation for Megan! She arrives in 4 days! Oh my goodness, Australia here I come!

Oh Fiji:

Check out thjs poster another volunteer found lately… it is of “marine animals” and includes a tree frog, a tod (toad), a shark as a whale, a hippopotamus, a tadpole, and a boa constrictor among other things. Warning, this poster was produced in Fiji.

Boys making their rounds.

The star of the show.

Salasimede (Footpaths)

Major Progress

My Peace Corps experience took a 180 turn this past Monday. At the community meeting we ushered in a new village development committee, which means, we voted for new people to run the projects in the village and every person on the committee is a great worker, with ideas, organization, and leadership skills. My projects just received a major boost! On Tuesday, February 8, 2011, the men started working on laying the footpaths! Within one day they had a 50 meter frame built, started filling it in with rocks, and had an assembly line for the reinforcement rods. Now this is what I am talking about! Everyone is so excited to see so much progress that they wanted to work every day this week to see how far they can get. Whew. Huge stress off my shoulders.
The first few hours of my village's new footpaths!
First day's progress.
Putting together the reinforcement one rod at a time.
Making the rods into Fijian style reinforcement.

Lysiosquillina maculata

The weirdest thing happened to me today. I was looking at the fish posters on my wall and telling myself that I should leave them behind for the village to enjoy. I know that I will never be decorating my future homes with posters. Then, the common banded mantis shrimp stares me in the face with its beady eyes that can see 100,000 colors (10 times that of the human eye). I realize I have never seen a mantis shrimp besides on tv and in my invertebrate biology textbook, but ever since learning about their marvelously sensitive eyesight I have been fascinated.

I carry on with my business, collecting my snorkel gear, hammock, and book for another Sunday Fun Day at the beach. (Sundays are religious here and no one does anything except attend church and sleep. Really, I am not supposed to do anything either.) I lock up my house, answer every inquisitive Fijian’s questions about where I am going, and head out into the intertidal zone as the tide slips out. As I round the cliffs dripping with runoff from the recent tor r entail downpours I am startled by a small, odd-shaped fish. As I peer closer I realize it is a mantis shrimp, none other than the common banded shrimp I was just studying in my bure. He continuously scuttles under different rocks as I try to get a better look. Finally, I corner the little bugger, reach down with an open palm behind him and two fingers just in front, and WHAM! He rears back his little club (technically a smasher) and smacks me in the finger. I start laughing, realizing that I forgot they could swing with a speed of 23 m/s, about the same speed as a .22 caliber bullet. Thank goodness he was a baby, only about 5 cm long, or else I could have been streaming blood.

When I stand back up to begin walking I reminisce about all the other times I made this simple mistake:

1. When I went to pet a lemon ray and got sliced between my fingers by his stinger,

2. The time I found a fireworm on a wreck dive and started to pick up the beautiful red flames, only to be rudely awakened by sharp pains in my fingers and red needles that refused to dislodge, and

3. All those times I thought it would be fun to play with a sea cucumber, until I was surrounded by its sticky intestines it had expelled to keep me away.

And another update on the footpaths…
Mixing the coral, sand, and cement.
Each step is done by hand.
Covering the footpaths in preparation for the oncoming rain.

One week down and 200 feet of concrete has been laid. Only problem, they tried to sneak in dead pieces of coral into the cement. I wanted to scream! Not only was it just collected from the beach that morning, but it is organic, and porous. We quickly put a stop to that. For some reason they thought it was OK to work without one of our two designated carpenters and so they continued to lay with a carpenter that I have never seen in my village. In other words, they asked someone from another village to come in and help us, who in turn gave the men crooked advice. Sometimes I do wonder about people’s intentions. Anyways, we made a compromise to crush the coral and wash it thoroughly before mixing it in with the sand, gravel, and cement. Hopefully this does not hinder the quality of the footpaths. I wish some of you could experience the conversations I have sometimes with Fijians. You would be appalled!
Tea time after a hard day's work. Man we have a lot of men in this village. EVERYONE has been contributing! Lunch and a tea are provided by the women every day of work.

Kindy studies the sea.

Just after a rain storm. This is where the boys place rugby at low tide.
My village.


My baby.

Tony driving his new bus.
Vina making Fijian pancakes.

The kids learn how to drive their new remote control Hummer.
Netani is so intrigued.
Two of the new children in the kindy this year. They have adjusted quite well!

Baby Leone is growing so fast.

John and Judy sharing pizza topping duties. Just another day in paradise.

Finally, an Update

It’s been a long time.

I only wish this was true. I clipped it out of the newspaper last week.

My life in the incinerator.

New Years

At the BeacHouse on the Coral Coast! I met people from Austria, Ireland, Germany, New Zealand, Australia, and the US. We had a group of about 20 people playing one game of Circle of Death. After I did an astonishing head stand (it was the rule when the last person drank) we all headed out to the beach for a huge bonfire to bring in the New Year. I hope to get pictures from a friend soon.

Gone Fishin

I returned back to the village on New Years Day. Soon after, the boys invited me to go spear fishing with them! It was an absolutely beautiful day for snorkeling.

During our first anchor I immediately stumbled upon a school of cuttlefish. I was mesmerized. As I floated above the tantalizing array of color they began to do a ceremonious dance. Sort of. The cuttlefish closer to the surface were the babies, apparently learning from the adults who were much larger and performing at the bottom of the school. As one adult would jot underneath a coral I could see its eye sockets change from a white to a neon green, over and over. Then, its body would do “the wave”, changing from a deep brown to a white with light spots. I spent almost the entire snorkel just watching their astonishing act. I can only assume the demonstration was to attract prey from their lair, just to be gobbled up in the cuttlefish’s clasping beak.

Here are a few shots from the day:




The Bus Tumble


The day I decide to go get the money from the bank in Tavua to purchase the supplies for footpaths, I am faced with a tough decision. Take the 12:30 bus and miss lunch with my fellow PCVs or take the 1:30 bus and risk missing the boat. I ended up rushing through lunch, running out the door at 12:35, and seeing the bus leaving the market. I run to a cab, hop in, and ask him to “get me on that bus”. Two dollars later I am riding the Sunbeam to Tavua. Upon arrival I hurry to the bank, grab the cash, and somehow make it back to the bus stand to catch the 12:00 Lautoka Sunbeam that leaves Tavua at 1:30. As we are riding down the road, several cars keep flashing their lights at us, most often in the states a sign of a policeman up ahead. This time it is different. The brand new Intercities bus (yes, that 1:30 bus I was supposed to take) has gotten into an accident and flipped onto its side. Two dead, several injured, and a waste of a brand new bus (supposedly the fastest in all of Fiji). Sorry, this isn’t very big news in the states, but the best I can do here in Fiji.

SPCA

I spoke with a woman from the SPCA back in August about spaying/neutering our dogs here in the village. At the time she said it would be free as long as we paid the transportation and accommodation/food for the volunteer. I received an email the other day saying that we would be receiving the services at a discounted rate, as in 30 FJD per dog. There is no way the village is going to go for this… but, here are a few dogs in the village that really deserve more TLC.







Baby Leone

Mother and Child.

The cutest baby around.

So fresh and so clean.

Footpath Supplies

Heading out to pick up the supplies.



The day after the bus crash, the village boys went to the nearest road to pick up the cement, rods, and tools to lay our new footpaths. We took 6 boats and about 20 men to do the labor. After the supplies arrived at the landing the men had to carry them up our mountainous village to a basement for storage.





Personal Note:

I am ready to head back to the States. We had no electricity this week, I got sun burned really, really bad (because I wore my swimsuit for the first time in almost two years), the sun is grueling and miserable, I miss ice cream (esp. Brusters), friends, family, hamburgers, chicken fried steak, cheese, cold liquid milk, brisket, roast, beef stew, chili, clean spaces, driving, speaking English, having more than one room, warm showers, dependable people, time (as in: something other than Fiji Time), feather pillows, Chick-fil-a, television, 4-wheelers, electricity, a cold Bud Light, football games, pizza, affection, OK, the list doesn’t end. I will get a short break in one month, when Megan comes and we go to THE OUTBACK!!

This is the family I had Christmas dinner with. My Bubu Ana, Bubu Vesi, and their grandson Adreu. This is right before he started Class 1 at the local primary school. He will be boarding Monday through Friday.

Where are that boys' pants? This is my little brother learning to be a goat sheppard.

Playin cards until the heat drifts off.

Yes, this is a pet pig, that runs wild in the village. My little sister, Ema, is enjoying a little tickle from this nasty animal.

This would be the boy who spilled the bubbles on my laptop. It is still acting up.



Playing cards in my house.