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