When Worlds Collide, Embrace Them Both

It’s a week before Christmas and hotter than Hades in the village. It’s the time of year when everything comes to a standstill as folks are preparing for the holidays, cleaning houses and yards, and pounding enough grog to last a month.  Instead of being frustrated with the slow pace, I’m trying to embrace it; take time to reflect on the past year and return to doing the little things I love about living in the village. 

Solo was admonishing me for planting some mangrove seeds by myself the other day in the hot, hot sun. “Can’t you just stay at home and relax for once? It’s a week until Christmas! It is not the time to work. Read a bunch of books.” 

So here I am sitting in my kitchen/office with a fresh batch of roasted cacao beans cooling on the counter courtesy of the pods we picked yesterday when we went to swim in the creek, and I’m slowly picking apart my current thoughts on village life. 

Sometimes I get frustrated with it, even after over two years of acclimating. Sometimes I wish we could do more, or that things would move along more quickly. But it is useless to get frustrated, it’s wasted energy, and it’s better to just accept the pace of village life. It seems I periodically re-learn the lesson that there is beauty in slowing life down, in caring more about family and friends than work, in making food from scratch, in doing small things that make you happy, in taking time to notice how elegantly a banana leaf unfurls itself from the stalk and how the vivid passionfruit flower opens in the evening. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about how American and Fijian cultures compare and contrast, and also about the current state of traditional Fijian culture. In the words of a friend, the culture seems “confused”. How do you keep traditions alive but develop at the same time?

The other week Solo brought over a book, Bula Vakavanua by Semi B. Seruvakula. It is written in Fijian. As much as I can understand, it was an effort by the Ministry of iTaukei (Indigenous) Affairs and the University of the South Pacific, amongst others, to document Fijian traditions as they have begun to slowly be lost. This book is a gold mine for someone who wants to learn about Fijian culture. Solo nabbed it from one of the school kids. As he never took Fijian in school, and since he spent most of his life outside the village, he’s just now being properly educated in the “ways of the village”. While we might not be able to stop things from changing, the least we can do is remember where we’ve come from. 

We’ve been going through parts of the book together. It explains everything about the ways of the vanua, or the responsibilities of the different people and clans in the village, how to conduct ceremonies of all levels, and how the land/sea is to be regarded. It also talks about the changes Fijian culture has faced and is still facing since the time of colonization. Fijians are great story tellers, and I love hearing Solo’s explanations and asking questions about it all. 

Solo: Isa, it’s not like this anymore.

Buna: Why?

S: Where is your wallet?

B: What?... In my room.

S: (Returning with my wallet, pulls out two bills.) This is why it’s not like that anymore. (Points at the Queen on the old bill.) This changed everything. But it’s starting to change again, we’re taking Fiji back. (Points at the new bill where the Queen has been replaced with some endemic Fijian wildlife species.)

This simple explanation makes me smile. I ask about the church, because didn’t that change a lot of things too? What did Fijians believe before the church?

S: There were only two churches, Catholic and Methodist in the beginning.

B: No before that.

S: Huh?

B: Before the churches came, did people believe in the vanua or what?

S: Yes, they believed in the landlords. But everyone was warring, warring all the time. Eating each other. When they won a war, they won the land and their landlord stayed there.

B: Landlord?..... You mean like a spirit?

S: Yeah, I mean like a land spirit.

B: Like the vu?

S: (Very hushed) Yes…

He then told me quietly about the vu of our village, his name, where he lives, and how he looks after the village. How he comes to speak thru people at certain times when the village is not working well together. How he did this just last year. He said all this very quietly and I knew it was kind of a sacred topic. There are certain things us outsiders aren’t supposed to talk about or question, so I just listened, appreciating what he was willing to share. I think traditional knowledge is a beautiful and interesting thing. But it is not my place to share it here; it is a story that is not mine.

However, in my story I do find myself amidst the convergence of the traditional and the modern. This is the setting in which I live and work. I sit here typing on my laptop in my house with no electricity. Sometimes it is a very confused place indeed; but it is a privilege to experience another way of life and experience real challenges much of the world is facing.

I know that in the coming year I will have a lot of choices to make about what to do next and where to go. Maybe it isn’t about choosing one or the other, but embracing the best of both.

Oyster Spat Collections Lines

Yesterday was a blessed Thanksgiving Day in the village! Nevermind that no one has ever heard of that holiday! We had a team from Department of Fisheries in Savusavu bring us an early Christmas present:

OYSTER SPAT COLLECTIONS LINES! 

In August a few people from the village attended a workshop to learn about small business ideas involving the marine environment. There was talk that Fisheries was looking to support communities to establish some sustainable income generating projects, so we submitted a request letter to Fisheries to help us determine if we were a suitable site for oyster spat collection. They didn't turn up to just survey, they turned up with two 100m lines to place in our fishing grounds.

After finding a boat to hire in Nabouwalu, we prepared the lines and waited for the boat to come at high tide.

Preparing the buoys

Unrolling the spat collections lines

Lines packed and ready to go!

At high tide and in a sudden burst of heavy rain, we headed offshore just a little ways to place the lines. We used flour sacks full of sand as anchors and tied tied large stones to the middle of the line for it to sink. In two weeks time we will cut away the stones, as the line will become heavy. The line rests about 5m below the surface, so passing boats will not disturb it. Four buoys mark each 100m line.

Checking the depth

Tying off the sandbag anchors

Placing the first buoy

Stringing out the first line

Buoys marking the submerged line

Fisheries Team Member and my trusty Environment Committee Members

Line in the water. The spat collectors (black, dangley things) will fall down in time.

Stone weight.

Myself and one of my many Fijian fathers checking out the line underwater

The line will remain in place for about a year, after which the team will return to see how many oysters we were able to collect. A good line can collect anywhere from 2000-4000 oysters. At a year and a few months time the oysters will be seeding size. Then they can be sold to pearl farmers for around $2 per oyster.

There are a few pearl farms in Fiji. The most notable is J. Hunter Pearls in Savusavu who sells gorgeous jewelry no one in Fiji can afford (http://www.fijipearls.com/)

We don't have a proper site to farm the pearls in the village. A farm requires a quiet bay or lagoon, and we have an intertidal reef flat. The good current coming off the Bligh Waters, however, may be filled with oyster spat. Oyster eggs and sperm meet in the water and drift on currents until finding a proper place to call home. Hopefully they will find a good home on our lines!

The lines were placed in the area we have proposed as a Marine Protected Area (awaiting formal approval of the chief). We hope they will give additional incentive to the community to protect these waters and help create a sustainable fund for management of this and other village projects. Furthermore, the lines will act as FADs (fish aggregating devices) around which fish may group or swim.

A great reason to give thanks, indeed!

I am thankful for this and all my experiences here in Fiji, for the wonderful people who help make projects like this happen, and friends and family both near and far.

Thankful today, thankful for every day.

The Plantation

This weekend was the first day Solo and I went to the plantation together to actually work. I’ve gone with him to pick food, but that’s not really working that’s just getting dinner. 

“Going to the plantation” really means hiking up into the jungled hills behind the village. We followed the old, two-track road part way up through the pine plantation. The first time I saw one of these spindly pine stands in Fiji, I was a little shocked. They take me back to the highland American West and seem out of place in the tropics. A local forester told me that pine is one of the only easy things to replant after a clear cutting. I’ve asked around the village: “What was there before the pine? What was there before the grassy hillsides?” “Only our grandparents knew.” There’s nowhere to go and look it up. But I’ve heard them tell stories of rainbows of birds and read in the history books of how Bua was one of the first places foreigners came to clear the once great stands of sandalwood. 

We veered off on a path sloping down into the valley below. I try to remember to look up every now and again from futilely dodging mud holes to take in the scenery. It’s a beautiful place we live. Solo didn’t spend his life in these hills; he doesn’t know it the way he knows Seaqaqa, but he knows it better than any map could ever explain. Every place has a name, never written down. “There was an old settlement here. This is where so and so used to farm. That big tree is where a spirit lives.”

We made our way down to the valley bottom and followed the creek uphill. Because Solo is starting a new plantation, it doesn’t have a well traveled path from this side. It’s nice walking in the creek anyway. It’s cool and shady.

Solo and I are planning to go to the US next year to visit for the holidays. Although it’s more than a year off, he has to plant now in order to be able to harvest in time. It takes anywhere between 8-12 months to harvest dalo (taro root) depending on the species, weather, etc. There is no bank account from which to withdraw. You plant, you harvest, you sell. That’s where money comes from.

Our relationship flourishes when we each make efforts to understand where the other is coming from. I want to support Solo in what he does and I want him to support me. We come from very different places but our love exists in some mixed up place in the middle that no one can really understand. 

Solo jokes with me and says how he never dreamed he’d be taking a white girl to work on the farm with him. I laugh and tell him he lucked out to get a country girl like me, because there’s plenty of fancy girls out there who don’t like to get dirty. He says that I’m right, and we talk again about how funny it is that the world brought us together.

Another reason I wanted to come and help is because his other plantation was poached. And it’s kind of indirectly my fault. One of his cousins harvested all Solo’s kava plants when we were both away. Some of them were very old. When he sold them we hear he got a few thousand dollars, but we’ll never know the exact amount. Kava grows for at least 3 years before you harvest it. The longer it grows the bigger it gets and the more money you make because it’s sold by the kilo. That was going to be the start of Solo’s money to put towards building a house someday.

A large number of young men in the village are jealous/ angry/who knows what, and it’s no secret that it has something to do with me. Some quietly and some not so quietly disowning or turning against Solo. It breaks my heart, but then again they might not be bad “friends” to lose. Solo’s too much a pacifist to demand justice. He says that when someone takes something from him that it’s very hard for him to ask for it back. In some ways I wish I was more like that, not automatically wanting to seek revenge. In others ways, I wish he’d raise a ruckus. May karma right things in time.

We are each others’ support systems against all the village drama, of which I am no longer immune to. I crossed some superficial sweet spot on the integration scale. It’s good in a way. I guess it makes me able to relate just a little bit more to my colleagues/neighbors/family/friends. (Talk about blurred lines…) 

We are not dwelling on it, but keeping on keeping on!

Each of us armed with a cane knife (machete), we begin our laborious mission of taming the wild. I think of the greed behind “manifest destiny” and those whom tamed the American wilds. I think of the idea of “last frontier”. 

Here, making a small clearing in the forest, we will plant and harvest. We will get our crops, but it will take a fight. It has been cleared before. Solo points to the old yavu, terraced foundations for houses.  It is hard to imagine the land ever being clear as my muscles start to burn from the constant swinging of my machete. It reminds me of swinging an ax. Maybe Solo can read my mind because he asks me to tell a story about the trail work I used to do in America.

We work for two hours. Solo could go all day, but he’s being nice to me. I’m out of shape for manual labor. I have blisters on my hands and a painful bee sting on my face. With the clearing he did the day before, and our work today, he’ll be able to plant 500 dalo. If he’s lucky he can get $1000. Next he’ll have to find dalo tops to plant and then turn the soil by hand.

We’re both drenched in sweat and covered in debris. We grab our empty water bottle and trudge our way back to the creek. It’s at least 20 degrees cooler under the shade of the ancient grove of ivi trees. There is a swimming hole, cold and clean. We jump in and relax on the submerged boulders. I am spent. I am in awe of place and person. 

Sea Cucumbers and More Mangroves

Things have been a little slow in the village as we're waiting on the elders to meet with the chief, however, in the meantime we are continuing with our on-going projects.

Two weeks ago we waded around in the foreshore to collect sea cucumbers to put in our marine protected area. We were only able to collect about 30. It was low tide and the sun made the water very hot. The sea cucumbers were buried in the sand and they were hard to find, even by experienced Fijian eyes. Next time maybe we'll snorkel around at high tide when they're out and about.

Collecting sea cucumbers along the foreshore

 
Sea cucumbers are a high value species because the are a delicacy in certain Asian cuisines. A truck comes around every week to buy dried sea cucumbers from local people to take to the market. Some sea cucumbers can grow very large. The larger the sea cucumber the higher the price.

Large sea cucumber from the outer reef (this one caught by a free diver to sell)

Over-harvesting is the current reality -- as sea cucumbers move slowly, they are an easy target and easy money. One can apply for a special license to use SCUBA to harvest them. Fishermen are going farther and deeper to find them as their numbers decline.

We're hoping to learn more about sustainable harvest of sea cucumber species and to breed them in our marine protected area. It has potential to be a good income generator for the village if done the right way.

For more info, check out this cool fact sheet!
 From http://www.spc.int/DigitalLibrary/Doc/FAME/Brochures/Anon_11_ISFC_09_SeaCucumbers.pdf

We also planted about 100 more mangroves from our mangrove nursery. We tried transplanting some 2 ft high seedlings a month ago, but they all died. It was an experiment. The nursery takes longer but it seems the survival rate is decent, although not great. If we plant a few seedlings together they seem to be able to withstand the tide/waves better. However, they are still susceptible to seaweed weighing them down and pigs digging them up at low tide.

Electrification of the Village

One major project we are working on is to bring electricity to the village. Last year the Department of Energy gave us a quotation for how much we would have to contribute to extend the grid from Nabouwalu to reach us. They only surveyed the main village and didn't include any of our seven settlements. Over half the people in our community live in the surrounding settlements.

We recently submitted a request for a new survey to be done that would include all the settlements as well, arguing for inclusive development. We will only have to raise 5% for the total project and the government will donate the rest. We raised a motion in the District meeting yesterday to get the local government's support for electrification. They said they would support us and ask someone to come to our next village meeting to talk about it.

One the way back from the meeting, a man was stopped on the road and already surveying the village! He was drawing a scheme plan with all the houses and connecting lines.

Hopefully by this time next year all 117-ish houses in our community will have electricity! While it takes some of the romance away from living in a rural coastal village, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one there who looks at it that way. Everyone is looking forward to it as an improvement to the standard of living. It will also hopefully  help bring the settlements and the village together, as often the settlements are left out of big projects.

I guess I wouldn't complain if I could have a small refrigerator! Dreams of yogurt, cheese, and cold beer are filling my head!

Even Further into the Bush

Since we were busy in the village during my birthday, Solo and I decided to take a little excursion the weekend afterward. We traveled northward five hours by bus to Seaqaqa, the place where he grew up, to visit his Mom, step-father, and sisters.

Seaqaqa location on Vanua Levu

I hadn't taken the bus north out of Nabouwalu since May! They have been making a lot of progress on the road. They are paving the 69km from Nabouwalu to Dreketi, building 14 high-standard bridges, and 240 culverts. This is going to be a major highway for the North. I was trying to calculate how many millions of truckloads of dirt are being moved, but it made my brain hurt!

Moving earth for the new road.

It's going to be a real highway. I can't even imagine it.

 When we got off the bus at Seaqaqa we paid for a truck to take us to the settlement where Solo's family  lives. We were dropped off on the side of a small dirt road in the middle of some fields and trekked a mile into the woods, tottered across log stream crossings with our bags, and finally reached their house in a clearing in the coconut trees. Such a solitary setting was quite a change from our village where we are surrounded by dozens of other households.

Seaqaqa hills.

Solo at the front door.

The house was quaint but it was in a beautiful setting at the base of the foothills. There was no bathroom or shower. We bathed in the river and peed in the yard. Luckily years of working on trail crew didn't even make me blink an eye about this. We did a small sevusevu, relaxed, went running with some of Solo's cousin-brothers and met lots of extended family and friends around the grog bowl.

On Sunday we walked the mile to the local Methodist church. We sat on the floor and a nice lady let me share her hymnal so I could join in the singing. The preacher thanked Solo for returning to where he grew up. It was kind of a big deal in the Fijian tradition of taking me to be properly introduced to his family. Solo was born in our village and is part of the landowning clan there, but he was brought up my his grandmother and Mom in Seaqaqa. His Mom just got remarried last year. She comes to visit in the village every so often. 

Walking to church.

Nadogo Methodist church.

Solo's little sis, Sia, at church.

On the way to church Solo's Step-dad, Mo Peipei, entertained me with large insects! If you catch a kakalu (cicada) and trap it in your hands, it will cry and others will come flocking to you.

My new uncle with a swarm of cicadas on his back.

Closeup of the kakalu, or cicada.

Dead cicada "shells".

 Solo tried to explain the cicada life cycle to me in Fijian, but I was uncertain, so I looked it up. So neat that he knew all about it without ever having learned it in a science class at school.

Cicada life cycle. ( http://www.massaudubon.org/Nature_Connection/wildlife/index.php?subject=Insects&id=4 )

They have a resident chicken who just showed up one day out of the bush and decided to make herself at home. She comes inside everyday and lays eggs on the bed. There are no boy chickens around. They just got super lucky and named her "Lady".

Solo and "Lady" :)

The mini-trip was great. It was nice to share something kind of special with Solo. We didn't end up being able to get his birth certificate and the local school has no record of him ever attending, but we didn't let that get us down for more than a few minutes. We got a new birth certificate in town and applied for his passport in Savusavu where I spent a few days working. As for school, we're still working on that...

Proposed Protected Areas Passed by Village Leaders

Village meetings (bose vakoro) are painful and important.

This year my birthday fell on village meeting day, which (most of the time) happens every month. The village meeting is where just about anything that’s happening in the village (and I mean anything!) gets discussed. But it’s also the forum where important decisions are made. For example, if we have an idea for a project to do in the community, it first needs to get passed in the Bose Vakoro. It is supposed to happen the first Monday of the month, but it depends on what is going on in the village. This month that date fell in the middle of building the new dam and water tank.

The Bose Vakoro is different in every village. Ours usually takes 4-6 hours (that's the painful part). It begins with someone from the Bose Vanua (the traditional council) giving a mini-lecture about how the village is falling to pieces because no one respects traditional protocols anymore, etc.  Then the minutes from the last village meeting are read and people can comment/ask questions about things that were brought up last time. This usually takes a lot of time because generally not much has been done about said previous issues, etc. Then each mini-committee in the village gives their report about what they have been doing for the last month or anything they are proposing to do. Followed again by questions/comments. Lastly, the meeting is opened up for anyone to raise miscellaneous issues concerning the community.

Before, I used to be my own special committee and have my own slot in which to talk. Now, most of the things I am involved in are brought up by the Development or Yaubula (Environment) Committees, since we work closely together. This makes me happy that others have taken ownership of projects and activities. I still give a short report sandwiched in there. For the greater part of this year, I’ve been preparing my report ahead of time in Fijian -- whereas before I used to just say it in English. 

This was a special Bose Vakoro because we were able to persuade the traditional council to sit down together the night before and discuss some important matters related to our fishing grounds.This is no easy task to get the village leader and the leaders of each clan to sit down together, but we requested them to let the Yaubula Committee do a presentation to them. Our environment committee has been working on creating environmental bylaws, management rules, and proposed protected areas for the past 6 months. One awesome and eloquent representative from our committee sat down with them to share our propositions and also explain background information on why we are proposing them. This was such a crucial step! Our traditional leaders don't have much scientific background, but they have a lot of traditional knowledge and are the key decision makers for what activities can take place on the land and in the sea. 

Last year they approved one small marine protected area for our village, but there wasn't much planning put into it. They said it was tabu, but we didn't talk about how long it would be protected, etc. But after our participation in the district workshops over the past few months, we were able give some solid suggestions for management guidelines that can protect our environment but also provide benefits to the local people.

Here is brief description of the 5 protected areas that were proposed and approved by our village leaders:

• Mata ni Wai Vuya/ Mata ni Wai Natwea: Two terrestrial protected areas, each extending 100m above our two main drinking water sources (dams) where farming, use of chemicals, cutting trees, and tying animals will be prohibited. This is to protect our drinking water from contamination.

• Natobu Tabu: Our current tabu fishing area, to be a 5 year ban on fishing and harvesting where we will grow and sustainably harvest sea cucumbers for sale to generate income for a village scholarship account. This area extends for the beach, including mangroves, out across the reef flat and After 5 years the tabu area will be reviewed. If the village is in favor of it and feels it is providing benefits, it can be extended or maybe moved to a new location. (Note: 5 years is the recommended minimum time limit in which to protect an area in order to see lasting improvements in habitat health and return of dwindling species.)

 

• Natarani Tabu: This is a small offshore reef that will be protected, but villagers will be allowed to fish there during special village functions such as funerals, weddings, etc with the permission of the Bose Vanua. This is called a periodically harvested protected area, and care can be given to limit the amount of time and/or gear used to fish here so as not to lose the benefits of protection in one quick raping of the reef.

• Kawakawa and Naitaga Tabu: This is the area between Natobu and Natarani and it will be permanently protected. It includes the edge of the reef flat and the deeper channel. Here we are hoping to be able to set up oyster spat collection nets and breed giant clams. It will also serve as a sanctuary for fish to breed. Fish do not stay inside the boundaries, obviously, and the "overflow" can support the local fisherfolk.

These proposed areas were also accepted by the Bose Vakoro. The next step is to get the support of those outside our village. We need the approval of the district chief and support from the other communities who share the same fishing ground. This will again involve traditional protocol and is  very important in order for this work to be sustainable and supported by all.

It might only be a small step forward but I am thankful for each little bit of progress we make. I can't think of anything else I could have wished for on my birthday than that.