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.