Skapie Skoppie

This morning early we went to Mavana again. This time Noko was the helmsman. He’s better at negotiating the waves than Avinash, who just races to get to the destination. Today the sea was also a lot calmer than before and it was a pleasure to ride in Noko’s small boat. We had to drop the anchor about 500m from the shore and walk, as it was low tide and we couldn’t get any closer with the boat.

At Ema’s brother’s house, he and I chatted a bit and he wanted to know all about me and what brought me to Fiji. He showed me around a bit here on Mavana and I even saw Afrikaaner blommetjies (Marigolds). I asked him what they call these flowers here and told him we have the same in South Africa. He hesitated a moment then said, “Monkey fish!” Hmmm...I wonder what our forefathers would say about that?

I bought some supplies in the local shop and was so thrilled to find some KitKats. That they were ancient didn’t put me off and I bought the whole lot! On the way back I gave everyone a KitKat, but Para didn’t like it and gave it to someone else.

Back at Nabavatu’s tiny harbour, we had quite a bit to carry to the village. As usual Avinash took the not only the most, but also the heaviest. In the meantime Ema made coffee for us. Not that you can really call it coffee – it’s pale and weak and looks like dirty dish water – made only to colour the water, the same way they drink any cordial – just to colour the water. It’s because they are poor and can’t afford many things. It’s the idea that counts – to be able to say you had a cup of coffee.

Nightfall came  and the wind howled relentlessly – causing poor Skapie to bleat non-stop. To ensure some sleep for all involved, I took a cardboard box and put Skapie in there next to my bed. I didn’t get too much sleep, however, because I had to keep my hand in the box so that Skapie could smell me and relax. Every time I took my hand out the box, she would start bleating again.

The islanders struggle to pronounce the name Skapie, so over here she is better known as Skoppie.

Catching Sheep (3 September 2010)

I went down early this morning to give instructions to everyone about their daily tasks. Today it’s about catching sheep to put in the pen so that we can give them their medicine.

What a palaver! We started at seven in the morning, but by midday, we had given up. None of us could stop laughing. To catch sheep is not as simple as one might think. Everyone had their position and then slowly moved forward to try and force the sheep into the entrance of the pen. One ram kicked his legs sky-high and ran off with 3 ewes following right behind him. Avinash gave chase, hoping to get them from the other side, but he too gave up as the terrain is full of sharp rocks that could injure him severely.

One of the ewes changed course, breaking through the village fence, dashing up the hill and then ending up in a ditch.

All the workers were shouting to me to bring the medicine so that we could at least administer it while she was in the ditch and couldn’t get away, but I was in the office trying to fix the liquid dispenser used to give medicine to the animals. Everyone then dropped what they were doing to come and help me, which wasn’t really necessary, as Avinash is the only one that seems to be able to get anything back into working order here on the island.

After all this running around and laughing we were exhausted. Noko and Para are actually quite scared of animals and don’t come anywhere near them unless it’s absolutely necessary and so – many of the animals get away. I decided it was time for a break and give chasing after 4 silly sheep a bit of a rest.

Today was also pay day and after I’d paid salaries to everyone, I could see there were some that didn’t look happy. No one is supposed to know what the others earn, but everyone crowds in the little shop trying to see whether I am paying someone more than I should. Then they talk about the weeks earnings and hand over some money to Ema for the food that she cooks for everyone. I could see on their faces that something was wrong, but no one wanted to say anything to me and Noko kept saying, “It’s okay. No problem, Boss.”

While Ema was pouring some tea for me, she gave me a great compliment by saying, “Tjaart, when you come to Fiji you fat. Now you small.”

I was quite pleased because I hadn’t realised that it was so visible, even though my clothes are a lot looser for me now than they were when I arrived.

While we were sitting chatting and drinking our tea, Torovi arrived with a lamb of a day or two old. He told us the ewe had given birth to twins, but the other one had been eaten by pigs. The mother had been injured when she tried to get the pigs away from her little ones, and had run off leaving this one behind in the bush, so I decided to bring this one home with me.

We managed to find the mother later, but she wouldn’t let the lamb drink from her. She was busy dying and had millions of little worms crawling around on her skin under the wool and the smell was unbearable. Flies sat on the open wounds while I tried to remove some of the wool with a stick. She died a few minutes later and the workers dragged her off to where they would burn the carcass. Oh, what suffering the poor ewe had to endure! But at least she was out of her misery now.

The Amazing Coconut Tree

I am in awe of this magnificent plant. The coconut tree is also known as the ‘Tree of Life’, ‘King of Trees’, ‘The Jewel of the Tropics’, ‘The Miracle Tree’ and many more. I think Miracle Tree sums it up pretty well. It’s considered a “Three-generation-tree”, because it will support the farmer, his children and his grandchildren.

Every part of this tree is useful; the roots, trunks, husk, fibre, fruit, water, milk & meat and the tree bears coconut all year round.

Amazing list of what this miracle tree provides: (And this is an edited version because it is a very long list!)

·         Coconut flour is made from the starch extracted from the pith. It has a high fibre content and does not contain gluten. It has a naturally cream colour, so there is no need to bleach it as some other flours are.

·         Coconut cream & milk can be used in ice-cream, marinade for meat, coconut jam, coconut butter, coconut cheese (looks delicious) & coconut yogurt

·         Coconut juice is a popular drink, available fresh, bottled or canned and often marketed as a sports drink because of the high potassium content

·         The trunk is used to make canoes, benches, tables, boxes (short list, remember?) wooden ornaments, etc.

·         The leaves are used for: fuel, matting floors, fans, bags, thatching material for roofs

·         From the sap: coconut, sugar, nectar syrup, wine liquor, vinegar

·         The roots: used as toothpaste & mouthwash, medicine for dysentery, root beer

·         The husk is used for cooking fire, stuffing pillows and mattresses and the resin of the inner husk is used for toothache relief

·         Coir is the fibre from the husk which is used in ropes, yarns, rugs, brushes...the list goes on

·         In WW2, coconut water was used as a substitute for glucose and was injected directly into the patient’s veins as a substitute to dextrose

·         Coconut water is also known as ‘the fluid of life’. It is high in potassium, is fat free and is said to be the best natural source of cancer-fighting cytokinins and acts as a general blood purifier.

·         Virgin coconut oil is extracted from the meat. The oil is rich in glycerin that is used in margarine, candles. Lubricants, cosmetic and beauty products

·         The shell can be used to make bowls, wind chimes, jewellery, floor and wall tiles

A truly amazing tree it is.

Lunch with the Khumars

God made me immune against culture shocks. I had a ‘never-to-forget-experience’ this afternoon and they want me to come back. OMG have mercy on me!


This morning I went with Avinash to his parents who live on Adavaci Island. The island is basically next to Vanuabalavu and belongs to a Japanese business man, who apparently wants to sell the place. When it’s high tide you have to take the boat to his parents, but during low tide you can walk the few hundred meters through the shallow water, up an incline and down the other side. It’s a tough course, but good for the circulation and an excellent way to get fit. Today we go on the boat and I take one photo after the other all along our route. It’s so beautiful – especially this part where Avinash’s parents live. It’s right at the sea, virtually surrounded by white beach. There’s a multitude of palm trees behind the shabby little house. It looks so idyllic that I can’t help imagining a grand mansion here on the beach, surrounded by a beautiful view of cobalt blue and turquoise water.


Opposite where Avinash’s parents live, is a tiny island that’s highest point is approximately 21 meters above sea level. Between the melted black rocks are shells and dolomite and one can see how the island was formed centuries ago by lava that was thrust up from the sea.
I wouldn’t mind having a house right at the top, because the view is magnificent. I would need a few millions for that, though.


We arrive on the beach to a warm welcome from his father, mother, sister and the sister’s daughter. Avinash’s mother has her Sunday best on for the occasion, but the place is clearly dilapidated and poverty stricken. His father looks like a hobo and an old wound stretching the length and breadth covers his very swollen foot. His welcome is a heartily laugh and an invitation to meet the rest of the family and all the friends.


Oh, Lord, I think. What the heck have I let myself in for? I am dismayed by the dirt and squalor and I am here for a meal, of all things! What possessed me to say yes to this invitation?


I greet everyone with a handshake and am shown that I have been given the ‘seat’ of the guest of honour – a spot on the floor in the corner. But before I sit, I notice the women talking and giggling while pointing to my camera. Avinash’s sister and mother pat their hair and look at me with such longing, as if to say; “Please take a photo! Just look at us!” Avinash asks me to take some photos and immediately everyone is ready for the occasion. We move to the front of the house and everyone stands higgledy-piggledy until I suggest they stand next to the Hibiscus. The flowers will make a far better backdrop than the barrenness in front of the house. Everyone poses while the camera clicks away and I end up taking more photos of the little girl than anyone else – she is just too cute for words. I promise them that when I am in Suva again I will have the photos printed and bring them to them. What am I saying? Do I really want to come back here?


While this is all going on, I’ve become aware of someone peering round the door of the house, and ask who it is. Avinash’s mom tells me that it’s the other sister, but she’s paralysed and has no use of her legs and never leaves the house. She stares at me with big eyes and I shake her hand. She starts chattering non-stop, and in between the foreign sounds she makes, I understand a word here and there and laugh along in the conversation with everyone else. I get the impression it’s a big moment in her life to be given so much attention – and that by a strange white man.


The house that the whole Khumar family lives in is small. At the back, is a kitchen with a table and two stools on either side, a basin and a table on where the food is prepared. The ‘Lovo’ (a hole in the ground that is used as an oven) is in an even smaller room just behind the kitchen. Between the house and the kitchen is a makeshift living room. A canopy has been erected and a mat to sit on made from palm leaves. I’ve taken my shoes off and left them outside as is the tradition here in Fiji when you go into someone’s home, and sit at the far end of the mat with my legs crossed. It’s sometimes very difficult to sit crossed-legged for so long and I regularly have to lift my legs to help the circulation. Everyone here in Fiji sits crossed-legged and it makes me think of one or other yoga position that I haven’t been able to master yet.


Everyone sits and stares at me in wonder and immediately I am asked if I’ll drink Kava with them. Once I have downed the first cup of so called Fijian Whiskey, everyone laughs heartily, applauds, and says Mothe. Avinash has disappeared and I’m left feeling like the foreigner I am in amongst all the strange faces that stare at me so and ask question after question. I would’ve felt much better if he hadn’t deserted me.


On my right sits a family friend; Ilesoni and Jojo; Avinash’s father. Every now and then he laughs very loudly and rubs his bulging belly that shines in the light coming from outside. His hair is tattered and filthy, his nails are just as filthy and I’m not even talking about his feet! Every time he laughs, all you see are four massive brown canines, almost like in a leopard’s mouth. Each one is about 2cm long. No, on second glance, I do believe they are longer! Even when his mouth is wide open, it’s still hard for anything to get past those long teeth. The top teeth grind against the bottom ones and in the process have become razor sharp. I’m trying to imagine how to explain this to the people back home and keep looking for an opportunity to take a photo of him and his yellowy-brown tusks. The times that I did manage to get photos, his mouth was either closed or he didn’t want to laugh. Next to him on the stair leading to the house and the sleeping quarters, sits the granny that is just too adorable. She apparently stayed with her son in America for fifteen years, but decided to come back to Fiji where the weather is warmer and it never snows. A real Indian lady who reminds me of my late Aunt Moira. Avinash’s brother is sitting at the door chopping at something only he can see with a panga. He is painfully thin and dirty and his hair is haphazard like his beard, not covering his skull completely, with straggly bits hanging in plaits at the back. I’m sure a good scrub would have him looking half decent. He looks as if nothing or no one has ever caused him grief and if there are no concerns in his life. He exists from day to day, and will live like that until he dies, as if he has no desire to improve or change his lifestyle.


Opposite me, just next to him, sits Para who has the special privilege of making the Kava. Para takes the bag of Kava and pushes in into the water and rinses it out, pushes in, rinses out. I shudder watching him do this, because I have seen his nails and see in my mind’s eye how the dirt stays behind in the water. He is one of the workers on the plantation and looks exactly like a tramp found in the back streets of Johannesburg; no teeth in his mouth, frizzy hair that’s pointing in all directions and an unshaven face like a rich Hotnot – like my father always used to say of someone with haphazard facial hair growth. His eyes are bloodshot and he has a suki-suki in his mouth. (Suki-suki is a thin newspaper rolled cigarette about 15cm in length.)


On my left is a man that talks virtually non-stop and speaks English much better than anyone else here. He has so much bitterness towards the white man, but specifically towards the British that took their land from them years and years ago. According to him (and it is noted as such in the archives) the island where he comes from was taken from them by two British men by unethical means. They gave the chief too much to drink and got so far as getting him to mark his fingerprint on a prepared document in which he ceded the island to the British Government.
But the two of us have a good conversation and I tell him that I am in the process of putting together a photo book of the island and its people and that I would like to use pictures of their families for this book and should it sell, be able to assist them financially. Everyone is terribly excited by this prospect and agree to have me taking photographs of them.


The food is ready and we all gather in the kitchen where a prayer is said. Everyone says amen and a few sit around the table while the other men leave to go and drink some more Kava. It’s me, Ilesoni, the granny, Avinash (who has reappeared) and his brother who sit around the table. Avinash’s mother stands just behind him and the sister stands next to me, so that she can shoo all the flies off the food with her rag. I am served the best today, but still I get the creeps when I look at what is in front of me. I keep my pose so as not to offend anyone. The flies are everywhere and every now and then the mother shrieks at the sister to check that the flies don’t sit on my food or on my tea cup, but sister-dear just seems to have eyes for me and giggles every time I look at her.

There is fish in batter that has been cooked in coconut oil. It’s a bit dry, but actually nice. Then more fish, that’s been cooked in coconut milk. This one still has its teeth and eyes, which stare at me and I fear it might jump on me any minute! The fins have also not been removed and my dining companions are sucking at them with the most awful slurping sounds! There is also salsa – which I almost completely devour, roti, green papaya that’s been cooked in coconut milk and all sorts of other foreign foods that I am not familiar with. I eat slowly and unwillingly while dishes with more food are placed in quick succession in front of me. Ilesoni laughs while the sauce runs off his mouth and every now and then he wipes his mouth and hands with the dishcloth while the others suck on the fish bones in their plates. The bones that have been sucked get thrown on a separate plate and the flies arrive by the millions to enjoy the feast. Sister is waving her rag around furiously and her mother needs to keep reminding her to be careful that she doesn’t end up hitting me as well. I cringe at every sound that fills the kitchen and with every bite of food I add a spoonful of salsa. The family is of Indian descent and in spite of the filth, the food is good and the Indian influence is evident.


I thank Avinash’s mother for the delicious food and she promises to pack a doggy bag for me so that I can enjoy some more of this good food when I get home. I smile and say thank you, but in my heart I really wish she wouldn’t because the Lord only knows how I kept praying during the meal that I would manage to get the food down. If it wasn’t for the salsa, I might have behaved in a disgraceful manner.


While I have taken my place in the corner of the ‘living room’, the others have gone to eat. Every now and then I hear the most dreadful noises coming from the adjoining room of people burping. Eventually Avinash’s father emerges from the kitchen and he lies on his usual spot. He has eaten so much that his round and shiny stomach is sticking out of his unbuttoned shirt. Good grief, I think. What a transformation! Is it really possible that someone’s stomach can bulge like that from food, I wonder. Well, it must be, because here it is – right in front of my very eyes!

He rubs his stomach and tells me how he enjoyed his meal, while he breaks wind so loudly that any lion would wet himself with fright. Avinash’s mother keeps apologising for his behaviour while the others roar along with him. Lord of Mercy, I think to myself, and I want to stay here for a year amongst these people!


Avinash’s mother and I enjoy having a conversation while everyone else tells me not to listen to Ilesoni because ‘Only bullshit talk’. And the others agree; ‘Yes, only bullshit, bullshit talk.’ He then gives a belly laugh and asks if I would like some more tea. I want to run away, but instead stay sitting and listen to the ‘bullshit talk’ of Ilesoni who has invited me for the following week’s Father’s Day meal and assures me he will also be there. Avinash’s parents laugh: ‘Only bullshit talk, he not come, only bullshit.’And Ilesoni gives his belly laugh again and offers me more tea.


Jojo has given me permission to walk around the property, so with camera in hand, Avinash, the little girl and I take a walk along the sea and I take photographs of them in the scenic beauty. What a romantic setting, if you just have the right person to share it with.


Back at the house, I say goodbye to everyone and thank them for a delicious meal and promise to be back the following week. Avinash’s mother, true to her word, has packed me a doggy bag to have for supper. All that’s going through my mind is that the following Sunday must rather not come because I have been promised that a very special curry pork dish will be made for me. Apparently I’m really going to like it!


Avinash, Para and I are on the boat making our way back to ‘our’ island while everyone stands on the beach waving us off.


That evening after walking back to the ‘homestead’ from the village, I came up the hill and find hundreds of swallows flying and chirping and doing their ‘flight dances’ on the lawn. It was so beautiful. I have never seen or experienced anything like it and could only stand in overwhelming wonder as I watched their carefree flying as they enjoyed the cool night air.

Shopping and eating on Vanuabalavu

2/9/10

 

I had just made some coffee for myself and was enjoying it out on the veranda when my cell phone rang.

“Hello! Hoe gaan dit?” asked the voice on the other side. It took a few moments for me to realise that it was my friend, Ernst from South Africa. I was so thrilled to hear his voice, to hear Afrikaans and to be able to speak Afrikaans again! I only speak Afrikaans to Skapie. I don’t know if that really counts, but at least I get to speak it. It was great to speak to a friend again and I just about spoke his ears off his head!

Part of my responsibility here on the island is managing the ‘Sometime Shop’. It’s not as easy as you might think. Everything here gets done by hand. There’s no computer that I can use. I’ve also learnt not to get annoyed with the labourers who buy one thing at a time. Why they don’t just get what they need and put it on the counter so that I can add everything up all at once, only they would know.

 An item is taken off the shelf and put on the counter. After they’ve paid, they take the change and fetch the next item. This gets repeated until they have what they need. Sometimes one person does this up to 8 times in one visit! It can be very frustrating, but I have come to accept that this is just the way it’s done here.

Today I rearranged the shop and sorted out the stock, grouping the same items together. The shop now feels as if it has had a makeover after just a few simple changes.  As I’ve said before – only the basics – flour, baking powder, yeast, breakfast biscuits, margarine (that gets kept in a bucket to keep the ants away), sugar, salt, rice, powdered milk, corned beef, tins of tuna, 2 minute noodles (the only pasta they know), soap, washing powder, toothpaste & toilet paper. Only basic everyday necessities.

There’s also diesel (for the tractor), paraffin (for their lamps), and premix (a mixture of fuel & oil) – for everyday use. Every time someone wants to buy premix or diesel, it needs to be siphoned so that it can run from the container to a bucket. Everyone has had a turn at getting a mouth full of the stuff, myself included! 

Today was also the day for Ema to come and clean the house that I live in. She does this every 2 weeks. We got chatting about different types of food and she told me that her brother, Seru, is a chef at one of the hotels in Suva. He rows with her often because according to him she can’t cook properly and should be trying different recipes. But as she says, she doesn’t have a fridge or an oven. Everything is made in a Lovo, which is a pit in the ground full of hot coals and covered with leaves, stones and sand. There’s no temperature control like with an oven and food items are not freely available on the island, so how can the poor woman even begin to imagine exotic meals when there’s nothing available?

I fetched my traditional South African recipe book and every photo she looked at she said, “You should teach me hows to makes,” her mouth watering. “What that? You can eat? Oo, nice! In South Africa many nice foods, hey? Fiji only little. We only eat things like Taro (a bulb or root of a plant), Cassava (that is so dry you choke on it!) and Rourou (which looks like the leaves of an arum lily). I felt so sorry for her and told her I would teach her a few recipes that she could make for the others in the village.

 

Late afternoon after work, I went to Ema and Noko like I usually do, for a cup of tea.

Every day they drink their very weak tea or coffee out of an enamel dish which is served with a bowl of rice, which you then mix and drink-eat and every day I say no thank you to their offer of ‘Rice Tea’, as I just can’t imagine that it can be nice – sweet black tea with rice in it! Yuk! Just tea for me, thank you.

If rice isn’t available, then breakfast biscuits are broken into pieces and soaked in the tea until soft and then eaten. And believe me – the most awful noises come from this kind of drinking and eating! It’s not strange to them to burp between mouthfuls. Like my friend Leona would say, “Definitely not ducks from our dam!” I’ve also learnt not to look when Ema pours the tea. The water looks so pale and milky (much like dirty dish water, if you ask me!) and I also don’t know if it’s clean water in the kettle or not.

I’ve spotted hair and all sorts of other unidentified object in my tea and turned a blind eye, hoping whatever it was won’t kill me.

Just this morning Ema added someone’s unfinished tea to mine so that there wouldn’t be any waste! Shoo – definitely not from our dam! They only own 2 mugs, which are badly chipped and look filthy. But, I’ve survived till now and can only hope that I’ll develop a good resistance against all the bugs and germs. Hygiene is most certainly not high on their priorities.

Every afternoon the radio station allows song requests, so while I was there, Ema phoned and asked that they play a song for the new manager of the plantation. My request  was Lomaloma (google it and have a listen), but I didn’t understand a word of Ema’s very long message broadcast in Fijian.

It seems that news has spread that there is a very nice new manager at the plantation and now everyone wants to come and work there. We really could do with some more labourers and hopefully the selection process will run a positive course.

News Update

There has been some exciting development that I would like to share with you.

I have made an appointment to see the previous first minister in Fiji; Mr Laisenie Qarase to discuss my idea of the coffee shop in Lomaloma. He’s been living in Mavana since he was fired by the president during the military coup in 2006.  

I don’t know that this meeting will bear any fruit, but hope and pray that it will help so that I can start something on this island that has never been seen or heard of before. I am hoping that he will be able to put me in touch with the right people that can assist me in getting this project off the ground. The other day I spoke to someone who owns their own yacht and often docks in our harbour. He serves on some or other committee for people that have boats and yachts and sail in Fiji. According to him, people don’t disembark, as there is nowhere they can go on the island to enjoy a cup of coffee or have something to eat. And so they go off to other islands that are more tourist friendly. But he believes Vanuabalavu will flourish and return to her former glory.

Here is so much potential and a real opportunity for new and exciting development, but without financial assistance, I will not be able to do it. So hold thumbs that I can really make a difference here on the island and can also one day become the proud owner of the “First Tourist Restaurant and Resort” on the island of Vanuabalavu.

Please share this with your friends on Facebook and Twitter so that together we can make a difference and that this idea of an Upliftment Programme will become a reality and not just remain a dream.

Thank you so very, very much. Not just from me, but from all the people here on Nabavatu.

Island Wish List

News of my music playing, photo taking, cyber browsing phone has travelled right to the other side of the island.  The phones I’ve seen here have tiny screens about as big as a thumb nail. No one has heard of mms as it’s not available here and memory cards are a foreign concept. “What that?” asks Ema. To think I left 3 cell phones in South Africa! What a shame. They are so behind the times.  

I can make a difference, but on the money that I have to live off, I am not going to be able to do it without help. To give you an idea – the basic supplies I order from Suva (that come by boat once a month), is equal to 3 weeks salary! I might live in Paradise, but it’s all on a pauper’s wage. I’m not complaining, even though at times it might sound like I am. I have accepted the fact that I’m here now and while I am here there won’t be many (if any) luxuries. I have to admit, I dream of eating ice cream, having chocolate & fizzy cold drink. It would be wonderful to have some cheese grated over my food, some porridge for breakfast followed by some yoghurt, a piece of meat off the barbeque...oh, the list goes on!

I am going to start an “Upliftment Programme.” The people here are in dire need of so many things.  I would appreciate any contributions that can be made. I have made a wish list of the people of Vanuabalavu and added my email and postal addresses. Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions. You may be surprised to see some of the items listed, but none of these things are available over here. Even in Suva – I have been asked in amazement what some of the stuff is..

• Needles - various sizes (the needlework kind) - that can be used to pierce seeds so that fishing gut can be threaded through.
• Scissors - small, large and craft scissors that can be used to make a patterned effect for cut-outs for cards
• Any size and colour ribbon that can be used in card making and other crafts
• Any size and colour beads
• Clasps and hooks that can be used for jewellery making
• Craft glue (preferably not glue stick as this is not strong enough)
• NT Cutters (or Stanley knives) to cut cardboard for card making
• Water paint
• Calligraphy pens
• Crayons and colouring in pencils
• Pens and basic stationary
• Stickers that can be used in the card making
• Hardboard
• White envelopes of various sizes
• Cello tape, masking tape and any other kind of craft tape
• Hard covered note books that will be covered with leaves or coir found here on the island
• Decorative paper, coloured paper, wrapping paper
• Basic make up and toiletries

And anything you believe could be useful for the people of Vanuabalavu.

If you're not sure - please don't hesitate to contact me.

Tjaart Herbst

Nabavatu Plantation

PO Box 24

Lomaloma

Vanuabalavu

Lau group of islands

Fiji

email: tjaartherbst@yahoo.com

On Ema’s wish list is some make up. She is 47 and has only ever seen in photographs what make up looks like and would like some for herself.

Priscilla is 10 and doesn’t know what it’s like to play with a doll. She’s never even seen one! It would be wonderful if someone could send one to her.

Josephine is 14 years old and I don’t actually know what girls that age need or want.

Old clothes are more than welcome. These can be sent surface mail – as can anything else – to save on costs. I appreciate whatever can be sent and don’t want anyone being bankrupt by this project. Anything that you no longer have use for, from pencils, to clothes, to cell phones – would be gladly accepted. It’s hard for me to see how little they have to get by on.

Cyclone Tomas caused millions of dollars of damage when it ripped through the islands in March. People that lost everything are now living with their families or friends. The government promised to assist, but all the people on the islands got was a bag of rice each. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Dreaming in Vanuabalavu

In Mavana mats are made from leaves from a type of plant that grows on the island, but other than that, there is no industry. I would like to teach them to make jewellery with the seeds and shells that are readily available here, or book covers from the coir of the Coconut trees and also use the leaves of certain trees to make gifts. They could also make cards that can be used as souvenirs or even to give to their friends, but as I have said – everything needs to come from the main island and in Suva there isn’t much to find in the craft line either.

So, I am asking that if anyone is able to make a contribution, it would be most welcome. These contributions do not need to be expensive items and just something that can be sent in a padded envelope. Things like colouring pencils, cello tape, scissors – basic stationary – is nowhere to be found on the island. I have seen ‘glue sticks’, but that isn’t nearly strong enough for the type of crafts we have in mind. Like Ema says; “What that? With what money? From wheres we get things to makes?” They were amazed when I showed them a few things and everyone became excited about starting to do something – so much so that they’re now collecting seeds and pretty leaves that we can use.

Another idea that I have is to start a coffee shop or a small restaurant.  News about this has spread like wild fire on the island and now everyone is waiting to see what I manage to accomplish. There has never been anything like that here as no one has ever had the money to start something up.

I have seen the cutest house on the beach front on Lomaloma that I would love to turn into a coffee shop. I am totally in love with that little place and it has so much potential. It was damaged by the cyclone and no one has repaired it as there just isn’t money to. Materials needed to fix it up would have to come from Suva on the boat and that’s a lot of money in their terms.

There are no activities for people on the island. No restaurants, no coffee shops where they could just go and sit and have a piece of cake or a cup of tea or coffee. There’s no gym and no sport to be seen over here. No shops to browse in or even just to window shop. Nothing. Absolutely nothing! There isn’t anything that can improve their quality of life. Even watching TV or listening to the radio is for many something they know about, but don’t have themselves, or go to their neighbours for the experience.

The only activity here is to drink Kava and get drunk. There are only 3 shops on the entire island and they only sell the bare necessities. The biggest shop in Lomaloma has 8 shelves and each shelf has another 3 shelves added to each end of it – in other words – 48 in total. The shop might look full, but only closer inspection you will see that the whole shelf has only one selection on it. A shelf of corned beef, or a shelf of tinned fish – about 100 tins or more of the same thing. It’s certainly not full of variety!

 There are many things that I just can’t get here. Like deodorant. No other soap except for the ‘pink’ or ‘purple’. No hand cream or any type of make up for the women. Ema was ecstatic when I told her I would ask my friends to send some make-up.

Things that we take for granted, things we don’t think twice about, are the things people on this island can only dream about.

For a list of things that are needed, please go to the top of the page and click on 'Island wish list.' Thank you so much.

Here I am in Vanuabalavu

1 October 2010

I am so excited today! I have all these great ideas of what I want to do here on the island and how I’ll be able to help the people on Vanuabalavu. But, I won’t be able to do it on my own. I am asking anyone willing and able, to help me give these people that have crept into my heart, a little piece of ‘heaven’ that we take so for granted. 

According to people that I have spoken to here on Vanuabalavu, and people in Suva – which is the capital and largest city of Fiji – Vanuabalavu and other islands of the Lau group, are known as the ‘Forgotten Islands.’ This is because they’re very far from the main island and that’s what made it an easy target when in 1855 the Tongan Prince Enele Ma'afu conquered the region. The Tongan influence is still very evident in the culture and architecture on the island.  

All supplies and necessities are either flown in from the main island or brought in by boat, which pushes up the prices significantly. Only the absolute necessities can be bought because it’s just too expensive to even consider any so-called luxuries.  As it is, most of the daily things that are needed are brought in from Australia or New Zealand and even then a lot of it is unaffordable for most of the people on the island. The plane trip from Suva to Vanuabalavu takes about an hour and a half and that only happens once a week.  The boat only comes out once a month and that trip takes 28 hours – if the weather permits.  If not – you wait another whole month. So many times goods have been ordered and paid for and people are left waiting for two months to receive the stuff.

But first, let me give you a bit of background about myself and my work:

I came to the island from South Africa, to work as the island manager of the Nabavatu Plantation where coconuts are processed and made into Virgin Coconut Oil. That’s only one of the many tasks I have. I love being here and the challenges and growing opportunity it’s presented. Skapie  (the Afrikaans name for a baby sheep) is one of my big challenges – or should I say Skapie’s stepmothers are my big challenges! Skapie’s twin was eaten by a pig and Skapie’s mother died when Skapie was only four days old. And so – Skapie was put in my care and trying to find a step-mother for her has been a very frustrating task! There have been 3 that I thought were good candidates, but all I seem to do is wrestle for a teat to suck on– for Skapie that is – not me! I have bite and bump marks to show for my efforts.

Other responsibilities include paying salaries to staff, general maintenance and managing the minute shop in the village. A village with a whole six houses.  

It’s quite a sacrifice I made to be here and had I known what was waiting for me, I probably would not have come in the first place. But here I am and I do want to make a difference to the lives and lifestyle of the people here on Vanuabalavu, and offer something to them that they haven’t had before. I would also like to teach them to do and make things with their hands so that they can occupy their time with creative activities and hopefully be able to generate extra money from their efforts.

My apologies for not putting up photos, but the computer says no.  Well, it's actually the computer connection that says no. It can take more than 20 minutes to get connected (if I manage to get connected at all!) and then all I have to do is press a key (any key) and it all disappears. The back button is the biggest culprit because it just shuts everything down.

I’ll be back to tell you more about the plans I have of how these people can be helped and I look forward to having you along with me on this very interesting journey.