March 2nd, 2017
Firstly, I apologize for the delayed post. I had a very long, wonderful post all typed up, and accidentally deleted it with no way to recover. I had to retype it the next day after I had calmed down.
This week was eventful. During the week I worked in class again with the kids. I helped them with reading, writing, math, and the occasional game of tic-tac-toe. I have fun with the kids, but try not to let it get out of control. The kids are already rambunctious enough having a new person in the class, especially a foreigner. So for Levenia's sake I keep the high-fives and funny faces to a minimum.
On Saturday I went to the Village of Rakiraki (rah-kee rah-kee). It is a village located on the north side of Viti Levu (vee-tea lay-voo), the main island in Fiji. On the map below, you can see the route to Rakiraki from both Suva and Lautoka along the northern highway, called the King's Road.
I was supposed to go to Sigatoka (sing-ah-toe-kah) this weekend, but the family that invited me had a funeral to attend, and were going to be away for a few days. So, when I got invited to Rakiraki I jumped on the offer. I was invited by a family in the deaf community, Maca (Martha) who is hearing, and her deaf daughter Melita. Melita and I met the first week so we have been friends for a while.
After a four hour bus ride from Suva, we arrived in Rakiraki. I honestly had no idea what to expect. I had seen many villages before on my way from Nadi to Suva, but never close up.
I am sorry to say that I did not take many pictures of the village, and the few that I did take didn't turn out well. This won't be the last trip I take to a village, so I will have pictures in future posts. Instead I will do my best to describe Rakiraki.
Rakiraki is considered a large village, with 200 "houses" or so, spread out over a few square miles. I put houses in parenthesis not as an insult but because they don't resemble houses in the way we think of them. The houses are mostly one floor, wooden frames covered in metal sheets with 2-3 rooms. They are sparse and somewhat cramped, and many lack any furniture. Their bathrooms and showers are also usually outside. The interesting part for me was their living arrangements. The villagers live on large plots of land with 2-4 other houses besides their own. So if you are a villager, you and your immediate family will occupy one house, while your grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, etc. would live 10 feet away in the other houses on the property. This encourages communal living, and family members never stray far from where they grew up. It was fascinating for me to see the families all happily living together in such a small space.
Rakiraki has a nearby neighboring town by the same name. The town is small, containing an open market, convenience stores, and a nightclub or two. Rakiraki town and village are complimented by sugarcane fields, a large, clean river, and a backdrop of the largest mountain range in Fiji.
Pictured here: sugarcane fields, river, and mountains
The village life is communal in the purest sense of the word. They share everything, from food, to clothes, to living spaces. If you don't have any food that day, your neighbor certainly does, and is happy to share. The villagers are what we would consider poor, but I think in many ways they are better off than the poor in America. The way they live encourages a generous, selfless attitude and no one goes hungry or without shelter. And they are ALL literally family. Every person in the village is related.
The villagers are not materialistic or superficial in any way. They don't have much money, but they don't need it either. They know that love, family and friends is all they need. This outlook is reflected in their positive attitude, and everyone is incredibly friendly. Things like anxiety and stress disorders are nonexistent in villages, because life moves slowly and there is little to worry about.
When I arrived in the village I was warmly greeted by everyone I saw. People approached me with smiles and said "Bula! Welcome to Rakiraki." I have never felt more welcome.
I experienced culture shock once again while in the village. My brain is trained to always be going and doing something, so I became frustrated at their lack of urgency, and their ability to do nothing for hours on end. The village lifestyle is very different from the city. While the modern, multicultural and western lifestyle of Suva runs at a familiar pace to me, in the village they live the traditional Fijian life. They grow much of their food, and catch fish. They sleep on mats on the floor, and periodically nap throughout the day. The women wear skirts, and the village has an actual chief, who I unfortunately didn't get to meet. Despite it being an entirely unfamiliar way to live, I gradually I adjusted to their pace, and began to appreciate it.
In America, if we see that someone is unemployed, we think they are either temporarily out of work, or they are lazy. In a Fijian village, this is not the case. Plenty of people do not work, and aren't looked down upon in the slightest. It is perfectly acceptable to grow your food and just live off the land, spending your days with your family and friends, instead of working long hours in an office to afford a more expensive lifestyle. I would almost compare the way they live to the hippie movement in the US, only it is widespread and common in Fiji, and they aren't seen as social outcasts.
In a multicultural city like Suva, it is fairly commonplace to see a few "European" (see:white) people walking around, especially on days a cruise ship is in the port. In the villages however, white people are a rarity, and white visitors even more so. When I walked through the village, people came out of their houses to greet me, and invited me in for food and tea. During my stay, I was thanked by many different people for coming. They told me what an honor it was to have a foreign visitor in the village. However, I really felt like the honor was mine, just to be a part of the village life for a few short days. I am continually impressed by the hospitality of the Fijian people.
Just a bonus picture from a nearby resort I visited
If there is one thing that really brings the villagers together, it is Kava. When night falls and the children are all asleep, adults and older teens in the village gather together and drink Kava with their neighbors. Many of them drink Kava every night of the week, sometimes until 2-3 in the morning. Kava's effect encourages relaxation and conversation, so they use it as an enhancement of quality time with friends and family.
I drank Kava the first and third night I was in the village. The first night I bought four small bags and presented them to the neighbors, a common gesture for a visitor. They added the bags to the already large stack, and the "ceremony" began. I sat down and joined the circle while one of the men in the group began to speak in Fijian, sort of in a prayer-like cadence. One of the other men I had already met leaned over to me and explained what was going on. Traditionally Fijians have a welcome speech for visitors. There are two variants: the long speech and the short speech. The long speech is reserved for outsiders and the short is for friends. I got the long one. Once the drinking began, I tried my best to keep up, but I was already tired from traveling, so I gave up around midnight.
The third night I was in the village I drank Kava again. This time at another of the neighbor's houses. I was not nearly as tired as the first night, and I was determined to show them that I wanted to be there. I drank Kava from 10PM to 2AM, talking (I only joined in when they spoke English), laughing, and enjoying ourselves.
As an outsider, this was an incredibly unique experience that very few foreigners get to do. No tourist would ever have this opportunity. My visit to the village was very meaningful for many of the villagers there. Only after I left did I realize how much it must have meant to them, to have a kid from America come to their village, sit down and not only participate in their traditional practices, but enjoy them.
Lastly, while in the village I had the opportunity to visit the grave of a famous Fijian chief by the name of Ratu Udre Udre (ra-too oo-drey oo-drey). He is the great-great-great-great grandfather of most of the people in Rakiraki. Not only was he a famous and powerful Fijian chief, he was also the most prolific cannibal in recorded history! His name can be found in the Guinness Book of World Records. Accounts say his taste for human flesh was insatiable. He ate every part of the corpse, and what he couldn't eat in one sitting, he saved for later. Reports say he ate anywhere between 872 and 999 people. Legend has it that if he had eaten 1,000 people, he would have become immortal! It was chilling and awe-inspiring to meet the descendants of this man.
For a quick history lesson, Fiji was once known as the Cannibal Isle, by sailors and traders whose route went through the South Pacific. Although cannibalism has been practiced in nearly every part of the world at one time or another, Fiji was notorious for the it. The people saw the consumption of your enemies' bodies as a symbol of power, and this practice did not stop until European missionaries came to Fiji.
The grave of Udre Udre
That's it for now. As always, thanks for reading, and be sure to check back next week for a new post!
