What I Love...

Ok, based on your comments from my last entry, I have realized that I have not been sounding very positive about the whole thing, and I wish to explain that it has been due to the fact that the first couple of weeks have been an adjustment. Adjusting to my new life, the pace, the simplicity, the heat, the food, the people, the environment, the flies and mozzies, the lot.
I am glad to inform you that I think I am adjusting well now, and even starting to like it all...
Let me make a list of the things I love about here, to counteract all the bad things I wrote about before...

I LOVE:
• Hanging washing at night under a beautiful clear starry sky and night time breeze.
• The giant halo around the full moon on clear nights.
• The crazy tropical storms when it pours down ridiculous amounts of water and me and the kids run around squealing having a rain shower.
• Being brought green papayas and then being able to google a recipe for Green Papaya salad and making it with the condiments I brought over plus/minus some ingredients... (Peanut butter instead of peanuts...)
• Not having a schedule for anything, not rushing to do anything, anything can take as long as it needs to.
• Going to a beach in Motusa village to pick “Lumi”, a local sea weed, looks like tiny bunches of grapes which you clean and mix with coconut cream, lime, chilli and onion and eat as a salad. YUM. The picking was so meditative, spent ages in the water with my Fijian friend Kelera, fondling the coral to pull out the stuff from the roots, surrounded by big wide ocean, beautiful white sand dunes and the kids going nuts in the sand. The whole process of making this salad pretty much took a whole day, by the time we walked to that beach, picked the Lumi, walked back, cleaned it (about 4 hours) and then prepared the salad, which was ready to eat for dinner...
• Carl disappearing at some stage of the day or night to go fishing. It is custom in Carl’s family home not to say that you’re going fishing. Its usually communicated by a Rotuman wink (those of you who know Carl would know this wink), or just a head nod toward the ocean. I think that if you say you’re going fishing, you’re jinxing your expedition, its bad luck. So I
love when Carl disappears with his cousins and comes back with about 20 fish of all sizes and types for our delight. The last couple of times we have been marinating some in ginger, garlic, soy, sweet chilli sauce and sesame oil and then BBQing them, and the rest we wrap in a banana leaf and cook in the earth oven, which gives it a divine smoked flavour. DIVINE!
• Having bucket showers with cool rain water from the tank, as the tap water keeps getting cut off for some unknown reason.
• Hearing the squeals of delight coming from kids running around going nuts, playing hide ‘N seek, chasing Venice the pig, etc.
• Being able to watch movies on our Laptop every night.
• The cool breezes, day and night when the heat isn’t overpowering.
• Drinking coconut juice every day.
• Drinking my Turkish coffee every day. It makes me happy. Its my drug.
• Spending hours in the scorching hot kitchen with Mue, cooking, laughing, gossiping, being girlies.
• Squeezing fresh lemonades or limes every day to make juice.
• Not wearing shoes since we arrived here. Being a dag. Not caring about what I look like.
I could probably go on and on, but I think that’s enough for now. I’ve made my point haven’t I? Life is VERY different here, but it’s pretty good...

 

Lumi picking

 

Motusa beach

 

 

Proud fisherman

 

Todays catch

(this is for you Cas!!)

 

Saulei's Mamasa

I don’t think I wrote anything about Saulei’s “Mamasa”, it wasn’t very eventful, but I will explain anyway. A Mamasa is like a welcoming ceremony, they do it for anyone who comes to the island for the first time. Mamasa means, I think, ‘drying out’, which relates to the fact that when people came here over the years, it was on the (long awful sickly dirty nightmarish) boat over days crossing the seas from wherever, and this was a ceremony to ‘dry off’ from the seas. Traditionally they would kill a pig for the occasion, make a bed of mats and sit you down on a white ceremonial mat on the top, present you with a beautiful flower Lay, called Tefui, squirt you with perfume, scatter talcum powder on you (I guess this is to make you smell better than the stench you come off the boat with) and serve you a meal with the best of their best, not before someone, a member of the family or community mumbles some words at you, which I just found out was an announcement of the food they have prepared for you: one pig (traditionally they present you with the head, which to them is the best part...), 6 Taro, 2 cans of ”Potco” (tinned meat)... they watch you eat, and then all join in on the feasting.
When I first met Carl and started hearing stories of this faraway land called Rotuma, I remember him telling me about the Mamasa, and since then I always dreaded coming here and having to sit there and be presented with the pig head... I had nightmares about it, and when my time was coming close to arriving here the first time, I BEGGED Carl to tell his relatives not to put the swine skull in front of me. The thought made me want to scream. When I arrived and they were preparing for my Mamasa, I knew Carl and his relo’s were taking the piss at me being scared of the pig head moment, and I begged them, in my simple English- please no head!!! I didn’t know until the last minute if I was going to get the head or not, and was SHITTING myself... you can imagine the relief I felt when they presented me with some other piece of the beast and some chicken instead....
Saulei’s Mamasa was very short, I had to sit on the mat with him on my lap, and when they came to put the Tefui on him, he screeched and pushed it away, same with the talcum and perfume. They didn’t bother feeding him, he wouldn’t have eaten anything anyway, and there was no pig head involved either. Thank Goddess!
Another story worth telling- when we arrived here, there was a turtle tied to a stick in the water, right in front of the house. I thought- a pet pig- ok, but a pet turtle tied to a stick??? Not sure... turns out that the pet turtle was to become a meal...
Last time I was here, I ate turtle without knowing it was turtle, and of course, it tasted like chicken... only after I was told it was turtle, I felt awful and swore never to do that again. And now, after having a pet tortoise called silver in Israel, (Noah’s second pet ever, his first were his silk worms) I felt even worse for the poor thing that was about to be butchered...
Believe it or not- I watched them do it!!! And not only that- I filmed it too!!! 2 of Carl’s cousins did it, one holding the poor things arms and legs, and the other slicing through its belly, all around and... I won’t go on. I will try to upload the video, and be warned- this is not for the weak hearted! MOM- DONT WATCH IT!!! I still can’t believe I did!!! It was horrible; Noah watched with me and was very fascinated!!!

 

Turtle pre-slaughter

 

Turtle post-slaughter

I will stick to the fishy creatures and the only hard shells I will eat will be lobsters, and I can’t wait to get my hands onto some of them!!! They are damn fine in this land!!!
So that’s it for today, I think Carl wants to write some too, am sure he will tell you all about the preparation and celebration of his cousins 1 year anniversary since he died, what a production! Quite similar to what Noah’s 1st birthday party here was like.
Happy weekend!!!! xxxx

Photos added

Hi again,
Just a quicky to tell you i have started posting some photos, on previous entries, so you can go back and check them out. The quality isnt the best in the world, i had to shrink them to be able to upload them with my slow internet connection, but it gives you an idea or two about it all. will slowly add more and more, so keep going back to check!
xxx

Settling in...

I need more than 2 hands. Two to type and at least one to swat the flies. Surely science can sort me out?!?!?!

I have been here 2 times before, but coming from the cushioned comforts and spoilt abundance of my world in Australia, every time I come here is a huge shock, in many ways.

This is going to be a life changing experience.

In my previous visits I suffered allot because I couldn’t let go of all I knew and was used to, and expected to have or live at least a little of what I am used to back home. This time, I know that the only way I will survive this without returning on a medical flight straight to a psyche hospital, is if I let go of all I know, all I am used to and all I wish for. Just live the life here, the simplicity, the limitations, the discomfort, the loneliness.  Learn to appreciate what there is, the simplicity, the limitations, the abundance in ways that we don’t know of in the west, community living, the silence, the loneliness, the beauty, the elements, nature.

The house that we’re living in is a falling apart brick house, in such bad shape, that I don’t know how they keep living in it (probably coz this is all they have and they don’t have the means to fix it or renovate, so they make do with what there is.) not much has changed since last time we were here, besides a new toilet tank and new lyno on the floors. The “kohyata”, the traditional built hut,  that was in the front of the house right on the water, has been pulled down in preparation of the new one we are going to build instead of it. The Kohyata was used as the kitchen and the hang out space, we’d spend most of the day, and also sleep there at night because it was the coolest spot, right on the water with the fresh ocean breezes being the only relief from the unbearable heat. Now that its gone, the kitchen is in the main house at the back, away from any fresh air, low ceilings and as hot as the Bondi Icebergs Sauna with no relief of being able to plunge into the cool ocean pool. The bay which Itumuta, our village, sits on, is filthy, the tides go out and in and bring with it all the scum of the sea, but mostly all the rubbish that the locals throw in it. Empty rusty cans, dirty nappies, pigs, and whatever other animals they catch and kill’s guts which they clean out and dump in the water, plastic of all sorts and loads and loads of scum. Needless to say that we don’t swim in that, which is a bummer. Water right at our door step, but we cant swim in it. Tease. Any time the kids go anywhere near it I have to chase them away, not from fear of them drowning, but from fear of them stepping on something awful before they even get wet.

     

                                                                        Our house from the road

                                                    House from the back

                                                        View from our bed

Rusty old sheds, going to be pulled down and instead build an outdoor kitchen

                                                       Our room

    

                                                       The lovely Mue, in the kitchen

As I write this, feeling high off a cup of my “Nachla” Turkish Coffee I brought from Israel, everyone is sitting by the water, under the coconut tree, kids drinking coconut water and eating the flesh, Carl fondling his new girlfriend, his Chainsaw, and for a change, there is a beautiful breeze, makes it bearable and even nice to sit and write. I will fetch a banana from the huge bunch hanging in the shed. I grabbed three, what the heck. They’re so sweet and the only snack I have on tap.

A big pile of mature coconuts waiting to be cracked open, scraped, and squeezed into “Lolo”, the delicious and wonderful cream that we all know of in cans only. I now understand why Carl’s mum insists on not using cans of coconut cream and rather searching the shops for fresh ones when cooking something with it. You can definitely taste the difference.

Venice, the pet pig, is playing with one of the village dogs, who looks like all the rest, scrawny, dirty, infested with flies and whatever else, with a huge neon halo above their heads flashing “Rabies”. The kids are loving the pet pigs, very fascinated with them. Personally I maintain my Jewish loyalty and can barely look at the things, not to mention touch them. Or eat them.

 The day we arrived, I was a mess, still rocking from the boat, feeling sick, tired, hot and a bit shocked at the state of the place I was to call home for the next 8 months. I just wanted to cry, but like a true Rotuman, I didn’t express anything and held it all in. Its taken me a few days to come to terms with it all, not to judge it, and to realize over again how lucky and spoilt we are in our world of sterility, opportunity, variety, and abundance.

Things like shampoo, milk powder (is there such a thing as fresh milk?!?!?), tea bags, a shower head, are all like luxuries here. The washing machine, (which thank Goddess there actually is one, as many don’t have one at all so its scrubbing filthy clothes on a piece of wood by hand for those who don’t have one), is one of those twin tub things, one where you put the dirty clothes in and poor a bucket of water and detergent in, turn the dial onto a 15 minute wash cycle, then turn the dial to drain the water, then  fill the sink with clean water to rinse all the clothes in and then move the wet clothes into the other tub which with another turn of a dial, spins the clothes, a few items at a time. Has anyone in our world even heard of one of them? All we know is put all the clothes into machine press button, and Finito! I was talking to one of the lovely women 2 houses down from us, she has 6 kids and no washing machine!!! All hand washed! Can you imagine??? I felt bad for criticizing the good old twin tub...

Just went to have some lunch. Fried Cassava and Tamarind Chutney which I made. Got some fresh Tamarind seeds from the markets in Suva, soaked them in water then strained, fried some chopped Ginger, Garlic and onion, added the Tamarind liquid and sugar and reduced till thickened. Yum. A Godsend to the tasteless Cassava and Taro.

The concept of food is one other big thing I need to get used to. To me, and maybe I’m not a good example of the general westerner, as I consider myself a self obsessed foodie, food is my art, my creativity. Cooking is my meditation. I love learning and figuring out different flavours that go well together, I love tasting new things, and I love having the luxury of variety of foods, fruits, veg and animals to use as my canvas to create delicious feasts. Here in Rotuma, food is just a necessity for life so it doesn’t matter what you eat, or how it is cooked, as long as its food. No knowledge of nutrition, and not much to choose from. To be precise, the only vegetables they have is Taro and Cassava (Tapioca), which is the staple food, they eat the Taro leaves and there’s another mucilaginous type spinach called Bele, and that’s pretty much it. Fruits are banana, papaya, a native fruit called “Vee” and in summer watermelon, mango and pineapples. Protein is Fish or pig, and sadly they also eat (which I cant touch!!!) tinned fish and meat, something like spam, which I wouldn’t use to feed a dog.

They aren’t really interested in flavours, different tastes and new dishes. I could spend ages in the boiling hot kitchen trying to be creative and make something with the condiments I brought with to make the food mildly tasty, and they would prefer to eat just the plain old boiled Taro and Cassava and deep fried fish.  Food isn’t a pleasure, a sensual thing, its to fill you up (and boy do they eat allot!!!) and keep you going for the rest of the day.  The locals usually eat a late breakfast and dinner, that’s enough for them, but I get up and make the kids breakfast, either Noah’s favourite Egg in the hole, or French toast, other wise we labour on making “Tupoi” which is finely grated Cassava (with the tiniest shittiest grater!!! Can anyone send me a decent sharp grater ploise?!?!?!), rolled into little balls and thrown into boiling water, then add sugar and coconut cream and you get a kind of porridge thing, not bad. Can add Bananas too if they’re around.

Lunch is usually either Cassava, Taro or rice with either  fish, or whatever else there is. Dinner is pretty much the same, or leftovers. Everything has to be eaten on the same day, as there is no refrigeration and it’s so damn hot here, so if there are leftovers, we don’t cook until they’re finished.

The men usually go spear fishing at night, apparently the fish easier to catch when they’re asleep, so they get back at some godforsaken hour, and the fish has to be cleaned and cooked immediately, otherwise it will go bad. Mue, Carl’s Cousin who runs the show here, has taught me to “pre cook” the fish, so rather than staying awake and having to cook the fish properly, just dump the cleaned fish in boiling water and salt, and that should keep them alright until morning, when I can be more creative with it and make it taste nice. It’s probably not as nice as cooking it fresh immediately, but I’d rather do that than be awake all night cooking. Stuff that! Sleep is precious.

                                                         Carl practicing his moves on his new girlfriend

Mue, is going back to Fiji next week, so I will be left here, the only woman with a house full of men, in charge of running the show... EEEEEK! She has given me instructions how to do things, and given the men instructions to listen to me and help me out. She will be away for a month, visiting her husband in Fiji who is going away to Iraq with the Fijian peace keeping forces.

 Noah and Saulei are having an absolute ball, although covered in heat rashes and scratching all over, they seem to be having the time of their lives, running free, playing with all the kids around here, rolling in the filthy sand, playing among rusty old roofing iron, chasing the pet pig, playing ball, throwing stones in the water, climbing trees, sword fighting with sticks, having rain showers and getting so dirty!!! I look at them and think “OMG- these are MY kids!!! How could I let them get so filthy??” but there is no point in cleaning them up until the end of the day, as they will keep getting dirtier and dirtier all the time, so I gotta just let go... There is a little girl living with us, Linoa, she is one of the daughters of Carl’s cousin Lillian in Fiji, whom I wrote about, the one with 9 kids, 3 of which are in Rotuma. When we were here the first time, I was pregnant with Noah and Linoa was a little baby of 11 months or so, and we were looking after her, she was our practice baby, and now she is a cheeky little 5 year old Tom-boy, and Noahs best buddy. They get on like a house on fire, and fight like the fire fighters trying to extinguish it. Really cute.

Its amazing how kids have so much fun without any “toys” as we know them. Makes me think of the excessive waste we have in unnecessary “things” and “toys” in our world. Give a kid a stick and something to hit it with, and they can keep themselves happy for hours...

The room we sleep in is the front room, facing the water, and only about 20-30 metres away from the water.  (We’d be F****d if we were hit by a Tsunami...) Its nice, as it is the coolest room in the house, but even so, it is really hot if there is no breeze, as the house has low ceilings and made of brick, corrugated iron roof and no insulation.

Our last load of gear is supposed to arrive next week on the boat, and in it I have a Mozzie dome tent, which I am looking forward to plonking outside and sleeping in when its not raining and too hot to sleep inside. Maybe then, finally, Noah will be able to see the shooting stars he’s been nagging for since we were in the desert in Israel.

There is so much I think of as the day goes by that I want to write, but don’t have the computer on all day, and am busy doing other stuff so I don’t write it all. I will try to continue writing in instalments, to give you a picture of our life here.

Again, thanks for all your great feedback, I love reading your comments. Sorry I’m not writing back, I will try to get back to you personally at some stage.

Hope all your lives on the other side of this vast ocean are going well and you’re all happy and well. Miss you all x

 p.s will try some pictures again soon.

We made it!

We made it to the island...
Please mark these words, and if you ever hear me coming close to agreeing to do it again, please scream this to my face, I WILL NEVER EVER EVER DO THAT BOAT RIDE AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was a F****ING night mare, I still cant believe that I actually did it! But I did, and we arrived in Rotuma on Thursday, 24 hours later than what we were supposed to.
The journey started off with a 4 hour bus ride from Suva to Lautoka in a bus that back home would never pass the rego test, the fumes the noise the heat, but worst of all the squashyness... they stuffed in as many people as possible, and loads of luggage and we sat there, crammed in like squashed sardines, kids on our lap or on the floor, with nowhere to move for 4 hours. I felt sorry for Carl coz there is much more of him to be squashed, he didn’t enjoy the ride very much...
We arrived in Lautoka to the warf where the boat was waiting, and at first sight of the boat I actually felt a bit relieved, as it looked like it was in much better shape than the last one I took, (which, by the way, had sunk at the warf in Rotuma) and when we got onto it, it was much bigger and cleaner than the last one. It had one level that was quite large and airconditioned, then the deck level and then another little room above the deck level which had just booth like tables and benches, and wasn’t aircon freezing , so we claimed that room, together with a bunch of Fijian tradesmen who were going to Rotuma to build some government buildings at the warf. It was hot and not much air flowing thru, but it was close to the deck so we could hop out whenever we needed fresh air. We got onto the boat, and settled in and waited for our departure. And waited and waited and waited for 12 bloody hours!!! We were scheduled to leave at 2pm, but apparently they forgot some parts in Suva and they had to wait for them to be brought over (4 hour drive) and/or they were fixing something on the steering (why the hell do they board the passengers if the boat isn’t fit for sailing?!?!?!) and then they had to wait for the tides to be right for departure, so we waited and waited, put the kids to sleep on the manky bench seat cushions on the floor, Saulei was waking every hour or so, and every time he woke I checked the time and looked out the window to see if we had left, and even when we did leave, it looked like we hadn’t, but at around 6am when we woke finally, I realized we had left and very soon after that, it hit me....

                                                               Boat at Lautoka

Thank Goddess I am not the spewing type, so I wasn’t hanging overboard vomiting the whole time, but I felt so sick, so nauseous, that I couldn’t lift myself from the ground without feeling dizzy and wanting to die. I just wanted to die. Thinking that I still had at least another 36 hours of feeling like this to go... at times, I looked at Carl thinking “I hate you for putting me thru this, I am a princess and deserve luxury- what were you thinking?!?!?!?!?!”, luckily Carl felt sorry for me, and took on the job of looking after the kids, coz I was in no shape to do anything for them. The boat was so filthy and the kids were rolling around getting absolutely trashed, they stank so bad that every time they came near me I had to push them away coz I couldn’t bear the stench of my own children... I brought some snacks to take on the boat, biscuits, apples, carrots and mandarins, which we finished quite quick, and the food on the boat was not at all appealing, especially to me in my state. Disgusting looking baked beans and what was supposed to be scrambled eggs but looked more like a blob of semolina or something, and of course the fluffy white bread. I couldn’t touch it, and felt awful trying to make my kids eat it coz thats all there was. The dinners were either chicken in oyster sauce or lamb in oyster sauce with a few canned carrots and peas in it, and rice, and even when I tried eating it, I could take a few bites and had to run away from it before I would’ve spewed. I felt much better not eating than having to eat that stuff, not to mention having to smell it...

                                                                    Breakfast on boat

                                                                        Our Glamorous quaters

                                                              Peep from our "Cabin"
At some stage I discovered the floor on the deck at the front of the boat, just outside the captains room, and that spot became my best friend. I sat there for hours, without moving, just breathing the fresh ocean air, listening to an audio book on my ipod to take my mind off my tragic state. Carl kept telling me to stare at the horizon which will make me feel less dizzy and nauseous. Whoever made up that theory must have been drunk, coz it didn’t work for me. Just sitting in my silence, with no one disturbing me, was the only way I felt mildly ok.
The toilets were another experience in itself, they used some kind of chemical, probably to disinfect, which smelt SO AWFULL, so deathly, that for hours after leaving the toilets I could still smell it in my nostrils. I went to one other toilet, which was in a level beneath, which had to be above there with the Chinese public toilets, in the worst ever public toilets I have ever been in. It was hotter than a sauna, with no airflow in it, stank of decades of shit, infested with cockroaches and smelt also of a dead cockroach dungeon for war crime cockroaches tortured in there before their death. Whatever that would smell like. After that experience, I kept my water intake to a minimum.
At nights, the Fijian men would have “Grog parties” out on the deck, Grog being Cava, not the delicious Spanish Champagne I drank so much of in Israel (wishful thinking...), but the national high, the Cava root which they dry and grind into a powder, mix with water and drink it in turn. Its a muscle relaxant, so basically makes you feel a bit stoned and jelly body like. They would come back into the cabin and crash, and while everyone was asleep, only I was awake to hear all these strange men’s sleeping sounds, snoring, farting, groaning... lovely! JUST WHAT I NEEDED TO FEEL BETTER...
No matter how much I tried to imagine I was Julie on the Love boat, or Kate Winslet on the Titanic with Leonardo hugging me from behind on the bow of the boat, nothing stopped me feeling like I wanted to die.
Did I mention that the place was infested with cockroaches? So every time I saw one crawling on the mattress where the kids were sleeping, I had to pretend I didn’t see it, which made me feel better about not seeing the ones that I really didn’t see, which Im sure were there anyway.
The kids were having a ball, between running around the deck, playing with and jumping on any stranger that would play with them (and they all did!), and watching movies on the laptop, they were happy. I couldn’t understand how they didn’t feel the way I was feeling. They would be literally running across the boat every time it rocked, leaning forward and back while watching movies, and weren’t bothered in the least. For about 2 days after we arrived, Noah kept telling me he is still rocking from the boat. And so was I . I think I still am, 3 days later.
Because the boat departed 12 hours late, the ETA was obviously 12 hours later that the original ETA, but at some point Carl came to me and hesitantly told me to prepare myself for an extra 12 hours on the boat, because if we arrive in Rotuma at dark, we wont be able to dock at the warf so will have to wait until morning light to be able to dock. I tried deep in my heart to be strong, and decided that well, I feel like death already, so in that case, once Im dead, I will still be dead for another 12 hours, so I will just stick with my deadness and be dead in silence...
So towards sunset on day 3 of the journey, we saw Rotuma island in the distance and we arrived close to the island after dark and anchored somewhere far enough but close enough to see the light at the warf. We kept rocking for another night and at dawn the next morning we sailed toward the warf and anchored.
Rotumas warf is at Oinafa, and it is the most beautiful beach in Rotuma. It is the picture perfect of tropical island cliché, snow white sands, turquoise waters and coconut trees on the beach. Absolutely divine. It almost makes the boat ride worth it, but not...

                                                                Rotuma from a distance

                                                               Boat at Oinafa Warf
We arrived at about 6am, and for the next 6 hours waited on the beach for all our cargo to clear, and to find out that some of it was missing, apparently forgotten in Suva. (to be expected really...). In the mean time, the kids and I jumped into the beautiful clear water to cool off and wash away what we could of the FILTH we were coated in from the boat. I loved seeing my two little nudie rudies running around on that beautiful beach playing in that beautiful water. For the first time in 4 days, I could smile...
Carls cousin Mua met us at the warf, and immediately offered us young coconut to drink, and Fikei, the local sweet treat made of Cassava starch, coconut cream, banana and sugar, wrapped in banana leaf and baked in the underground oven. Yum.
                                                                        Oinafa beach

                                                                 Arrival refreshments
Eventually we were picked up by a truck and taken to Itumuta, Carls familys village, and our home for the next 8 months...
To be continued...

p.s its looking like photo's are  mission to uploads with this internet connection, i will try again later...

All aboard!!!

The anchor is being pulled up, the ship loaded, the very gay staff member has come to anounce to me and the 0ther 2 people sitting in this deck room with me that dinner will be served soon and we can come order (it took me about 4 questions to actually understand what he was saying in his hand twirling, "S" hissing Fijian accent, the boys are running around on the deck, we are about 3 hours past the schedule time to leave, and we are about to head off!!!

The boat is totally fine, so much better than the first bomb i went on, more space, less people and cargo, clean toilets, so all in all, my heart rests from all the horrific fears i had based on last trip. All I have to pray for now is calm waters, and sighting murmades rather than pirates, as my dear Xtine said...
So Ahoy we go, thanks for the beautiful comments and encouraging words, clearly they brought tears to my sensitive eyes....
See ya with a coconut in hand!!!! xxxx

Carl speaks...

Well this is my first post on our blog. I have been as busy as a one armed brick layer in Baghdad. From the moment we hit the ground in Sydney, I basically have not stopped running. Actually that is not entirely true, I managed to sneak in a half days rest when we first arrived in Fiji. As far as holidays go, this has been far from relaxing, thus far.
I am writing this post whilst waiting for the ship to leave the wharf at Lautoka. This whole technology thing amazes me. We were waiting on the dirt road in Suva for the busride from hell and Nadine was on skype to her parents who were sitting at home on the other side of the world. Amazing! A lot has happened since Sydney. For starters I managed to spend $6200fjd on materials, transport and govt charges in 2 weeks. Never done that before! Also discovered that I can be a demanding bastard and managed to bargain down pretty much all retail outlets into giving me the best deal in Town. I thought I hated bargaining, but I must admit there is a certain thrill in getting a better price for something. Must be Scottish tight arse in me!
Everything has gone relatively smoothly despite a few days of stress here and there. For example, at one stage I was staring down the barrel of a few thousand dollars in Duty charges for all the freight that we have brought. That was until we discovered a distance relative works for the freight company and is close with the customs guys. He smoothed over the whole process and with a few hand shakes, deal is done. Same scenario but different customs guy and another relative, all that was asked was a small donation to their morning tea and everything was “set”, as they say here. It is definitely who you know here, not what you know.
So as I said before I am sitting on the ship, and I must admit by Fiji standards it is pretty good. Which seems to have somewhat allayed Nadines built up fears over the past week. At least this one looks like it is going to make it out past the reef, before it sinks, whereas the previous ship looked like it should have been condemned in the early 70’s. However I did notice that the life boats looked fairly well used which I haven’t as yet notified Nadine of. Best to wait till we are well out to sea, before I drop that little ditty! I must admit Nadine has been very good thus far with all the trials and tribulations of living with my relatives. I don’t think there are that many difficulties and at times think she carries on like a princess, but I guess I am used to the life here. The dirt and poverty by our standards don’t seem strange to me, and I mostly don’t notice it. I only see the things that we lack in our world, closeness to our relatives, willingness to forgo a lot of things so that these same relatives can be housed and fed, warmth towards visitors and relative strangers. I guess what I see and Nadine doesn’t is the sacrifice that these people make to house us in their tiny homes and share their meagre belongings and food. Wherever we go, we are given the best of what they have, our kids are spoilt rotten and nothing we ask for is too difficult for them to do. For this and the fact that they are my relatives, affords me the grace to overlook all the other things that they so sorely lack by our standards, and appreciate them for what they give.
Well the boat was meant to leave 3 hrs ago, by my calculations the timing is pretty good by Fiji standards. Some boats don’t leave at all! When we arrive in Rotuma, the first 2 weeks will be taken up with work for my cousins placing of the headstone for his grave. We were very close and the traditional period of 1 year of mourning will come to end in 2 weeks time. I am very happy to be here for this ceremony as I was not able to be here for his funeral. There will be a feast where plenty of animals will be slaughtered, baskets of taro will be uprooted and his headstone will be placed on his grave. This basically means shitloads of work for all of us who are close relatives. The work is very physical which will help me to get in shape for the upcoming work on the house which will begin as soon as the ceremony ends. The work is also a hell of a lot of fun. It usually involves us spending the whole day out in the bush, taking the piss out of each other and whoever happens to come into contact with us.
The thing that I look forward to most when we arrive in Rotuma is going for a swim, in the most aquamarine water you have ever seen. It puts most post card destinations to shame. Naturally I am stinging to go for a surf. Obviously this goes without saying. It looks like most of our fishing will be done at night as it seems to be easier to catch fish when they’re asleep, which suits me fine. I will load a few more recent photos, and try to convince Nadine that not everybody is interested in looking at photos , just of our kids.
Muchos love to all friends and family who are keeping track of what we are doing. Carl..
p.s. Photos will have to wait till we arrive in Rotuma.

Last day of civilization...

Sitting here at my new BFF’s, Gloria Jeans, having my last Latte for who knows how long, 8 months??? Unless in some miraculous way someone in Rotuma will have a coffee maker, which actually, there’s an American guy married to a Rotuman woman who lives there, and I remember from my previous visits that he actually had a coffee maker... sad thing is, I ran into his wife here in Fiji last night and she told me they’re not living in Rotuma at the moment, so there goes that fantasy... Super sad, especially coz this woman, Harietta is her name, is one of the only women who talk to me in Rotuma, because her English is really good (married to an American and travelled alot), so she has no fear of speaking English.
I might need to explain the “fear of speaking English” story with Rotumans, they have this thing that when there are other people around, no one will speak English because if they make a mistake, they are laughed at and made fun of for the rest of their lives and in generations to come. If I am with someone one on one, they will chat away, but as soon as someone else joins the conversation, they will stop talking to me so that they don’t dare to make any mistakes... its sad for me, coz I end up really really bored for hours and months on end... in the past I felt I had to be polite and just sit there and look pretty, but I have decided that this time Im gonna bring out my ugly, and everywhere I go, whenever this happen, I will just pull out a book and read... that way, everyone will be happy. They wont feel the need to speak English, I wont sit twiddling my fingers and staring at the cracked ceilings, AND I get to read books!!!!! Good deal ha?????!!!
SO its mothers day today, or as it’s called here in Fiji- mothers Sunday, so here’s a big fat hooray to all you amazing mothers out there who rock my world, and the whole wide world too, who make this world a better, more gentle loving place, keep up the good work, I love you all!!!!
There’s a big Mother’s day feast being prepared at Sawani Street (where we’re staying) and I selfishly sneaked out to have some mother me time and write in peace. Loads of kids running around, Tarps been erected for shady seating in the back yard and loads, but I mean LOADS of food being prepared.
We went visiting some relatives yesterday, some I have met and some not. The one old lady we went to visit, lived in this tiny little place, the whole flat about the size of our lounge in Bondi, so run down, so over packed, the kitchen and bedroom practically the same room, the bathroom a falling apart cement structure... 3rd world is what came to mind when I walked in. But what I really wanted to tell about this lady, was really funny. She is 72 years old and looked like a butch dyke, short almost shaved gray hair, wearing a white singlet with muscle fedibedas hanging down (fedibedas?? “Kath and Kim” for the sagging old skin off the biceps...), and she was sitting down on the floor raving on at how good she looks for her age and how strong she is, which was funny in itself (she was actually speaking English, for a change, so I was able to understand this). So we’re sitting there, and there’s a knock on the door and in walk three ladies and a child, and while we’re in mid conversation they walk in and sit down on the ground, everyone looks down to the ground and these women, each in turn, start blabbing on in Rotuman. It wasn’t too long till I realized they were praying to his mighty “Jisu”, Carl and I sat there half giggling and rolling our eyes while this was going on, the old lady had a turn too, and then they just got up and left. The old lady thanked them politely, closed the door and let out a big “TOUWOT”, which is a bit of a swear word in Rotuman, because her Fijian neighbours were slamming their doors noisily. The contrast of the holy prayer and the loud swear was really funny. It turned out that they were representatives of the local church and they were going around to give mother’s day blessings and gifts to all the mothers. RANDOM. Sweet.
We went to more relatives, the kids were playing with more kids, and I was given a fizzy lemonade ultra sweet to drink. Only yours truly could sit there drinking it and imagining it was a freshly made Soda stream fizzy water with the delicious fresh Organic lime cordial I buy from the Lillyfield markets... It tasted really good!!!!! I had to laugh at myself. SNOB!

We spent the past 2 nights at Carls cousin Lillian. She is a lovely women, a little older than me, and has 9 kids!!! She is the mother of Linoa, the little baby Carl and I looked after when we were in Rotuma the first time. She is the one of the only women I have managed to have a D&M with, and have managed to talk to her a bit about feelings. Rotuman people don’t ever talk about feelings. I was talking to her about this last night and she told me that from when they were kids, they were always told to shut up, not to talk, not to express themselves, and only to listen to what the adults say without being allowed to express their opinion or needs. Doing so would be disrespectful to the parents, and if that happens, they get smacked.
Of her 9 children, she has “given” 3 of them to relatives to raise. This is something I never understood, one of those cultural things that I have resigned just to accept, but while having that D&M last night I asked her how she felt about that, and she admitted that she hated it. That every time she gave a child away she would cry for months, and still does. But she couldn’t say no to those who asked for the child. Each child for a different reason. I really felt for her. She herself was given to Carls maternal grandmother to raise and only met her real parents at the age of 11. She didn’t even know that the woman who raised her wasn’t her real mother.
It made me think of the confusion that kids would grow up with, especially if not told they have biological parents. Especially when in the middle of their lives they’re sent back to their biological parents to join a family foreign to them, and have to find their place and fit in. It made me think of the mothers who have to give their kids away as newborns, they cant say no, as there is a superstition that says that if you don’t give the child to who asks for it, the child will be cursed, and no mother wants anything bad to happen to her child.
The one good thing about this, is that kids grow up with loads of cousins around them, and they consider their cousins as siblings. Loads of them, and loads of adults looking after them. Big families, all living together, all sleeping together. Which brings me to another subject....
SLEEPING ARANGEMENTS...
We are so spoilt in our culture in that we are so precious about personal space. My room, your room, my space, yours. Here, there is no such thing. Whatever space there is, is everyone’s space. The room where we sit and eat and watch TV and talk, turns into a sleeping room for whoever is staying the night, the other rooms, if they exist, are sleeping rooms for whoever lives there, parents and kids and grandparents and uncles and cousins, all sleep together in one big snoring harmony, the occasional fart is laughed at by those who happen to be awake to hear, and in the morning, all the mats are folded up and put away and the room transforms back into the sitting/eating space.
I don’t know how these people can sleep on these hard floors. They spread down one of the traditional woven mats and a pillow and that’s it.
When in Sydney for those 6 days before coming here, I was lying in the most comfy plush soft and cosy bed with crisp white linen and down pillows galore at my in-laws place, enjoying every moment of feeling like a princess, thinking sadly that this is the last time I will be lushing out like this for a while...
I went and bought some foam mattresses and new pillows to take with us to Rotuma, the most I could do to guarantee a semi comfy sleep for us for the next 8 months...
The past few days I’ve spent shopping with my dear Auntie Lavenia, buying all that I could think of that we will need for Rotuma. Bulk cleaning and laundry products, spices, 10kg sacks of rice, sugar and flour, bulk soy sauce, oil, sweet Chilli sauce, and lots more. Most of these things I can buy on the island, but for 3 times the price, and when cooking in bulk for at least 10 adults every meal, I will need lots of everything. I kept thinking not to deny myself of anything I wanted, as I know myself and the cravings I will have, so ended up spending more money than I ever have in one day...
Luckily, I can always ask one of the relatives to send stuff on the monthly boats that will hopefully arrive in Rotuma, and if any of you come to visit us, make sure you check with me what I want you to bring me when you come...
Carl had very busy days of organizing all the cargo on the boat, buying hardware and lots more, but he wants to write about it, so keep tuned for Carls stories too.
So this is my last day of civilization. Tomorrow is the day. We catch a bus to Lautoka, a port city on the west side of Fiji, and then the boat. I am trying not to think about it too much. Maintaining my denial. Will deal with it when the time comes. The 40 hour boat ride (I find it a bit hard to understand how a 480km boat ride could take 40 hours!?!??! That is 12 Kms an hour? I can swim faster than that!!! Probably not, but that’s a really F****ng slow boat!!!)leaves Lautoka at 2pm (which probably in pacific time means 5 hours later) and arrives in Rotuma early Wednesday morning. The boat is a different one to the last one I went on, thank Goddess, apparently bigger, with stabilizers (whatever those are), and nicer. There are 4 bed cabins in it, which we couldn’t afford, so it will be the benches for us again, which are apparently more comfy and spacious than the last bomb we sailed in.
I have bought lots of snacks for the boat ride, a big knob of ginger to make strong sweet tea to combat sea sickness, and prayers in my heart (am I becoming Rotuman???) for a safe, easy, smooth spew-less journey.
We are taking a couple of cousins on the boat with us to come help with the building, so there will be plenty of men to hold my hair back when I’m spewing overboard...
WISH ME LUCK!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!! ISLAND LIFE HERE I COME!!!! May the smooth-sailing fairies be with us!!!! See ya on the other side.... XXX

Tropics here we are!

A pleasantly cool day in Suva today, morning rains which have cleared into a sunny noon, coconut trees in view out of the window, and Johnny Cash banging on in the background. Thank Goddess for ipod.

So after our 6 hectic days in Sydney, days of organizing, packing, catching up and saying goodbye, the fast pace, caffeine infused, busy busy busy, we arrived in Nadi, Fiji on Wednesday morning and spent the night with Carl’s relatives there. They were, like all Rotuman’s  I’ve met, so warm and welcoming and made us feel at home at once.  Noah didn’t have to wait more than 5 minutes to be given a fresh coconut off the tree to drink from, which is what he has been most looking forward to in the whole wide universe, and has been practicing drinking the coconut juice for months in Australia in preparation for Rotuma. Needless to say both the boys were Thrilled! (see photo Attached). They cooked us a yummy chicken curry, which I’ve learnt over the years is their “special” dish, and we have been eating that same “special dish” almost every day since... every one seems to want to feed us their “special dish” so its been the same flavoured chicken curry at every relatives we’ve been to... with the variation of Taro or Tapioca (the root vegetables which is their staple food), or rice or, my favourite, Roti.

We spent the night in Nadi and the next morning jumped on the bus to Suva, driving through the lush green Fijian country side, surrounded by coconut tree forests, lush green rolling hills and the ocean.

We arrived in Suva around lunch time and went to Carls cousins house.

I remember the first time I came with Carl to Fiji, he told me that he has been coming to Fiji every year for so many years and just fitted into their lives without thinking much, so used to the way they live and how simple and poor they are, and it only just dawned on him that this is a third world country and his family live like the people in  those photos and films we see of third world countries, where 4 generations all live together squeezed into one tiny house, with so little to their name and live quite primitively. And so it is...

The house we arrived at was about half the size of our small unit in Bondi, and in it live at the moment (it changes all the time, according to who is in Rotuma or who is around...) 9 adult men, and the 4 of us squeezed in too. Me being the only woman, and the only non Rotuman speaking person. You can imagine how much I loved that.

In this particular house hold, out of all the men living there, only one of them, Mue-fa, who owns the house, is the only one who works and brings home the dosh to support everyone else. He is in the Fijian army and travels to Iraq, Lebanon, Sinai , Papua and other war ridden countries to serve in the peace keepers security forces. The rest of the men in this house do nothing all day, just hang around watching TV, eating and preparing food, but don’t work. I personally cant understand why these perfectly healthy and capable young men don’t get off their asses and go work, but maybe thats a cultural thing... (an easy explanation for allot of my questions and wonders about here...).

It was a bit of a hard adjustment to make, coming from Australia and Israel, where there is so much abundance and comfort, which we are so blessed with, so used to and unknowingly take for granted, to arrive to this space where there is hardly any selection of foods, fruits and veg. Those of you who know me, know how I love my food, how creative I like to be with food, so how challenging it would be for me to have nothing to “play with“  here.

Breakfast is a loaf of very fluffy white bread with butter and very sweet tea, eggs if we’re lucky, and I make sure I get some bananas or Papaya to have something fresh in there.

Lunch, if there is any, is probably more fluffy white bread, with the peanut butter and honey that I bought, and then dinner is prepared and its usually Taro or Tapioca with curry or “chow”, Carls family speciality, which is basically gravy...

They don’t eat much vegetables or fruit, I have to make sure I go to the markets every day and buy some, and even there the selection is very limited compared to what we are used to in our lands of plenty. I keep having my moments of freaking out because my kids aren’t eating properly, not getting all the food groups into them, and eating too much sugar and processed foods. I keep having to calm myself down and tell me I have to let go for the next 9 months, and no one has died from not eating all the food groups in abundance every day. So hard for a Jewish foodie mother like me...

I feel the need to list the fruit and vegetables that one can buy here, skip the next paragraph if you need to...  Taro, Tapioca, Cucumber, yucky looking Tomatoes, snake beans, green beans, pumpkin, purple eggplant, onion, garlic, Chinese cabbage, Taro leaves, Papaya, Pineaple, banana, watermelon. Then there’s all the imported stuff from NZ and Oz- apples, pears, carrots, potatoes,  which Carl doesn’t want me to buy coz they aren’t fresh... There are a few wild vegies that grow randomly  which one can occasionally buy,  like these fern fronds that are steamed and served with coconut cream, very yummy,  and also this type of Asparagus thing, which is served with, you guessed, coconut cream, quite yummy too.  I know this might seem like a long list of fruit and veg, but for the foodies among you, do you think I am being too spoilt by saying that I dunno how I will survive on these alone???? And this is the list of stuff that I can get at the markets in Fiji, in Rotuma, there might be half of these things, and I cant just pop over to the markets to get them, coz there aint no markets there... Please my dear foodie friends, write me some ideas that come to your mind of ways I can variates with this selection of basic ingredients...

If I pull myself out of my spoilt existence of abundance, and look at these people and this culture and observe how happy and content they are because they don’t know any different, they don’t know what is out there, so they don’t miss it or need it. Only me, the “Henfissi” (white woman) has the desire/need/dependence on the pleasures of what the earth has to offer, in order to make me happy and satisfied....    What a lesson this is going to be for me...

So to get off the food subject for a bit (what else is there to write about???), since arriving in Suva, we stayed at those relatives for a few days, trying to keep the boys happy while Carl went out to organize his bits like his Fijian citizenship (in order for us all to be able to stay here for as long as we want), standing in lines for hours at immigration and embassies only to find out that he needs to be in the next line for whatever he needs, running around town trying to get customs clearance for all the shipments of stuff that we sent by ship and plane from Australia, pricing and buying all the hardware he needs for  building the house. A couple of nights ago we moved to stay at other relatives, who have loads of kids running around here so the boys are having an absolute ball. They have much more space here, a big back yard and I am able to sit here and write for ages, while the boys are playing outside with all the kids, quietly watched over by uncle Ringa, the sweetest 72 year old man, who visited us in Sydney late last year, and is absolutely amazing with the kids. He is probably gonna come back with us to Rotuma, he wants to help build the house and help with the kids. The kind of old man who cant stop working and doing. Amazing.

We’ve been visiting relatives and catching up with people a bit, but the highlight of Suva for me, and call me a dag if you wanna, is that I bought a USB modem that I can use in Rotuma!!!!!  YAY!!!!!!! All my worries of not having a lifeline to the world have been relieved!!!! I am soooooo happy!!!!

Another good thing about Suva is... Gloria Jeans... Sorry for ignoring you so disgracefully in Sydney, but there is much better coffee in so many other cafe’s, but here, dear Gloria, you are the one and only, and for that I am truly grateful... even tho you use UHT milk for my Latte...cant be too picky...  (thank Goddess I did a bit of forward thinking and sent some yummy Turkish coffee from Israel in our shipments to keep me up when down in Rotuma...)

The lady of the house here in Sawani Street, where we’re staying at the mo, is Lavenia, a big fat mama, who I call the Queen Bee. She is hilarious, she sits on her bum most of the day and takes the piss out of everyone, bosses everyone around,  and gossips and tells me all the stories of the family and ancestors. She’s great, and so caring. She looks after 4 kids that are somehow related to her, with so much love and care (even tho she takes the piss out of them non stop...). She is my entertainment, and very helpful too. Bless Queen Bee.

Speaking of Blessings... Its all about Jesus here, as some of you might have heard me tell in the past. I am considered a treat for them as I am a real Jew from the holy land, and every meal starts off with a long thankyou shpeal to Jesus oh mighty lord, for blessing us with all we have. Sweet. Not my kinda thing.

So here we are in Suva for who knows how much longer, coz no one knows when the boat will leave for Rotuma. It could be a few days or a few weeks. We just gotta wait and buy lots of provisions to take with, and wait. Im enjoying the last days of sort of civilization, slow days, and am even reading a book!!!!! Ah... the life...   X