More dreams of Fiji

23 September...OH...MAN...I have found one of the most perfect places in the world. Left Suva Monday by bus to a small wharf to catch a boat to the island of Leleuvia. If you feel inspired to look at a map, I'm somewhere northeast of Viti Levu, close to another island called Motoriki, and a larger one, Ovalau. Maybe I'm not even on the map. It's like Gilligan, seriously. No cars, roads even. The whole island's a beach, total paradise, so small it takes only 15 minutes to walk all the way around.

About 15 people live here year-round--staffpeople--Fijians mostly, plus a few ex-pats including Martin, a gloomy German, John, a sick-and-tired-of-the-grind-ex-businessman from England, and an old hippie named Steve from Oregon. Steve and Martin run the dive operations and John works on the boat.

The most travellers that have been staying at once is about 10. Met Mariana and Karin, two very cool Norwegian girls here for two weeks, plus Sandra, a girl from Switzerland, staying six months. I step out of my bure (thatch hut) onto a soft, white sand beach--perfect aqua waters at high tide in the late-morning, beds of coral surrounding the island. Two meals a dayy, and if you haven't ordered dinner by early afternoon, one of the girls comes out looking for you on the beach to see what you want--curry, fried rice, sweet and sour dishes, fish in coconut milk. Everyone is known by name.

Fresh fish are caught daily, usually by John, single-line trawling behind the boat coming over from Suva, or somebody goes out snorkelling/spear fishing. Huge rainbow trout, tuna, Spanish mackerel...br>
Every night after dinner the thatch mats are laid out on the floor in the dining area and everybody sits around drinking yaqona and listening to the guys here playing guitars and the ukelele--Fijian songs and old r-n-r in English. Haven't worn shoes for three days. Don't plan to either. Electricity is on from 6 p.m. to 11 p.m., one telephone, cold showers (but warm weather and cool breezes). Drinking water is collected from tin rooftops--the rainwater here is that clean--showers are a mix of rain and saltwater. Nothing to do all day but sit, watch, be--wait for a boat to come in bringing supplies or weary travellers.

Every few days, a yacht from New Zealand or Australia, Great Britain, France, anchors in a little way off shore and the occupants come in by dinghy for a meal and a chat around the yaqona bowl. One Aussie was finally making his way home after 8 years, sailing around the world.

Four dogs, Butch, Dave, and two female twins, Bonnie and Beebe, sleep by your door each night, walk with you around the island, or settle around you on the beach. If you feel inspire to actually do anything, there's snorkelling and diving, or day trips to Levuka on the island of Ovalau.

I've succeeded in accomplishing absolutely nothing since I've gotten here, and find the greatest comfort in the fact that I'm in perhaps one of the safest places in the world, lit up at night by an immacculate view of seemingly every constellation. Never been so far from lights to see such an incredibly sight. The Big Dipper looks so close you could reach out and touch it. When the moon is fully you can read a newspaper under it.

Nothing much to say because nothing much happens. But if you ever want to really escape, there is very little of "the world" here, and it's wonderful to be somewhere where no one could find you if they tried.

26 September...Supposedly the best time of year to be here but it's rained on and off for four days. Everybody's a little sour over it, but people who live here need the rain to fill the water tanks.

Tonight is the Disco Party, so everybody's getting in the mood for late-night boogieing, until the lights go out anyway. Karin and Mariana (the Norwegian girls) have extended their stay for another week, taking a week out of their Australia itinerary. It's tempting. Despite the rain, the island draws you in--it's like home--and after a few days you know everyone and spend all day and evening hanging out, talking, laughing.

28 September...The disco party was a blast, and needless to say, nobody made it to church Sunday a.m. Usually a boatload of islanders and backpackers goes over to a nearby island village for church and lunch in the village, but...

The sun came out again though, and everyone had beach fever. Early Sunday a.m. a group of us took a boat over to Honeymoon Island, a tiny island near Leleuvia. It has one tree and the rest is sand beach and perfect aqua waters. Sat around and listened to music, enjoyed the company, and spent the rest of the afternoon the beach at Leleuvia, catching up on all the previous evening's "scandals" over fresh coconut, watching the sun go down.

Ohhh, the stories to be told in this place...! For such a tiny island, a seemingly simple, isolated place, there is so much going on!

People (Fijians)
Lela--a/k/a "Nana", she's a youngish grandmother, a plump Fijian woman with pale brown/green eyes
Paulina--nickname "Pau", works in the kitchen, serves yaqona in the evenings...married to Victor, one of the guitar players, had three kids with him, but he found her on the beach one night with Lamani (who she now shacks up with on the island; all the kids went back to Suva to live with Grandma, except for adorable Sila)
Lamani--goes diving for beche-de-mer (sea cucumbers/slugs) in the a.m., sings and plays guitar every night, beautiful voice...is actually a professional singer in Fiji. Has a wife and three kids in Levuka, but is now hooked up with Pau on Leleuvia. The wife wants to bring the kids over to Leleuvia and dump them with him and Pau.
Litia--works in the kitchen, sits around and serves yaqona at night. Came to the island only a few months ago, and used to be afraid of/intimidated by the island boys working here, but Anna convinced her not to worry, "They're good boys."
Anna--married to Jerry, mother of Apea, adorable two year-old kid who entertains everyone. Anna has a radiant smile and big eyes that light up her whole face.
Jerry--Anna's husband, does raking and other work around the island, "cousin-brother" of Joe (there's no word in Fijian for aunt, uncle, cousin, etc. So if two brothers have sons, their sons are also called "brothers")
Joe--goes diving for beche-de-mer in the mornings, plays "bass" at night (sits on a wooden box that has a string coming out the middle tied to the end of a stick, played like an upright bass fiddle, sort of); my Fijian boyfriend
Tony--works around the island, funny guy who sings along every night but doesn't know the words to the songs
Buli--a/k/a "Leo", just visiting and working here for a few months, lived here five years ago, but now works in Amsterdam. Is married in Holland to a girl he met here on Leleuvia, but meets his Australian "girlfriend" here every once in awhile.
Leon--European/Fijian mixed ancestry, long-haired boat and guitarman, has a nasty temper when drinking and has a history of physical abuse of women who've gotten involved with him People (ex-pats)
Steve--old hippie American who left the States 2-1/2 years ago, bought the dive operation here and has found the place that suits him most. We've sung some good r-n-r songs together around the bonfire at night.
Martin--ex-punk from Berlin, looks older than he is. Last Saturday was the first time anyone had seen him dance, but later on he went out for a pee, fell in the water, and headed off for bed.
John--the Englishman whose boss (in some kind of auto industry dealing) gave him money and as much time as he needed off from work to come to Fiji. John's hoping to get a visa and not go back.
Mariana & Karin--great Norwegian girls I've become good friends with. We've wiled away many hours together, making lots of macrame anklets/bracelets for people, countless games of "Bullshit" and "Shithead" card games. They've got island fever (THIS one) as badly as I do. Intended to stay a week, ended up staying three, and now I've postponed my own flight to coincide leaving Fiji with them.
Linda, Mia, Jenny--Three Swedish girls who came mid-week, great fun dancing, playing volleyball together, and all the boys are in love with Jenny, the tall leggy blonde

Others have been and gone, and these may be taking off today. Most went looking for more sun when it rained here last week. I guess you'd call Mariana, Karin and I "loyal," or pathetically hopeful, one or the other. We're often caught belting out the chorus of "Dreamtime", which Lamani and the guys play on the guitar in the evening:

"When I'm dreaming
please don't wake me
please don't make me
open my eyes
cause I'm dreaming
dreams of Fiji
Pacific Islands
Paradis

I see people
different races
happy faces
smiling at me
palm trees swaying
lali's playing
oh what a happy...memory

I've searched the whole world over
nowhere could I see
anywhere to compare
with the islands of Fiji
though I've drifted far away
to a far a-mile
all my strength in every way
I've lost in my dreamtime

Crystal waters
silvery white sands
magic islands
calling to me
now my heart knows
where I must go
to the islands of Fiji...!

Legend has it that a long time ago, a Fijian chief's daughter, whome he loved very much, got pregnant out of wedlock. In order to not bring shame on the family, the chief told her she'd have to leave the village and go off somewhere where no one knew her name.

The daughter was sent off on a boat, and while at sea, gave birth. The child was premature and she thought it would surely die, but didn't want it to die at sea. She came upon the uninhabited island of Leleuvia where she found a well of fresh water, and left the baby daughter here for the child to drink the water and survive if it could.

The story goes that the child did survive and lived out a solitary life here. The teardrop shape of the island is the tear of the mother who left her child behind. The sea snakes that crawl up on one side of the island never do so on the other because that's the side the daughter liked to walk on.

People who have lived here attest to strange occurrences, such as finding footprints on the sand that start from nowhere and end nowhere. Talking to other backpackers, we're all convinced she's the one responsible for a few missing and/or rearranged items in our bures. A t-shirt and my flashlight have disappeared, and someone else's shoes are missing. A shell Mariana picked up from the beach repeatedly disappears from an inside window will only to show up outside on the ground a walk away from her hut.

Linda and Mia, two of the Swedish girls, were awake half the night, watching a shadow figure moving around their hut, listening in terror when something fell somewhere. The hut was latched from the inside and there was no way to get in.

Today Joe took me on his boat to Levuka to get some supplies, film, etc. Just off Leleuvia and going past Cangalai (pronounced Thangalai) and Snake Island, is a strech of water called "Davetalevu", meaning Big Passage in Fijian, where Joe took his hat off and told me to take my bandana off my head. "Something may happen to the boat, or we could drown...bad luck to keep your hat." Superstition, but I wasn't taking chances.

By the time we were near Motoriki, where Joe's village is, the water was so shallow he had to get out and push the boat, couldn't keep the motor in the water because of rocks and coral. Most inter-island travel takes place within the reef--outside the reefs is open sea and huge waves, but within, perfect crystal, aqua, navy blue soft-lapping waters. Sold a three-foot Spanish mackerel John had caught the day before to some Indians in Levuka.

On our way back from Levuka (Fiji's old capitol, a fishing town that looks as it must've 100 years ago--wood slat buildings, General Store, etc.), we brought Lamani back with us. He'd been there trying to straighten things out with his wife (she still wants to send the kids over here with him). "He's a stupid man," Joe told me. "A wife, three kids...I told Paulina she married the wrong man, and now she's still with the wrong man..." Pau said he may be right.

Anyway, we came back quickly with high tiede and Joe and Lamani went off to Suva to sell beche-de-mer at the Chinese market (the Fijians and Indians don't eat sea slugs, which are thick, foot-long slugs, shaped like a loaf of bread, with leathery skin and spots and tentacled mouths). For the Chinese, they're a kind of delicacy and supposedly an aphrodisiac.

1 October...Sandra has been to Suva and filed a police report against Leon since he'd gotten drunk at the Cannibal Party a few weeks ago, trashed her bure and beaten her. Apparently she wasn't the first girl to get involved with him and have that happen. Word spread the cops were coming yesterday so Leon left for Suva, along with Jenny, one of the Swedish girls he'd since gotten involved with.

Steve says some people sware by the story that the well of water, still in the middle of the island, deep in the bush, always has a fresh water supply year-round and the mosquitoes don't touch it, but when things are going bad on the island, negative energy going around, it fills up with mosquito larvae...

No one's been out to check the well, but many are feeling like some of the "bad" energy left with Leon--though his guitar playing at night will definitely be missed.

7 October...Hindsights from here in Auckland, New Zealand. Had another Disco Party Friday night, a bonfire and plenty of rest for going to church Sunday. Waded out to the boat in our Sunday "best", and headed off for neighboring Motoriki to the village of Uluibau, where Joe's from.

Still low tide in the a.m. so we had to get out offshore from Motoriki and wade through the water, then tiptoe and squish through lots of muck and mud, stepping on sinewy starfish and watching little water critters slither among our feet. Then a quick jungle walk to the village, spotting little wild piggies and a big mother sow in the bush.

Church, again, was beautiful, yet a lot more subdued than the service at Cavalry Temple. One thing you can always count on though is the gorgeous sound of Fijian voices singing. Ate lunch on a mat on the floor with some villagers after church, then got taken to the local school, and a walk down to the beach.

I had the special privelege of meeting Joe's parents, stopped in to see them at their home and got a warm handshake and big kiss from his mother. Weird in Fiji. I've been on Leleuvia two weeks and already the village on a neighboring island has heard about me and the kids are all calling me "Auntie" in English. Despite my skepticism and cynicism about getting seriously involved with anybody from any of these places, it's a nice feeling to be made so incredibly welcome and instantly accepted by an entire community. I'll probably go back to see them again.

For Sunday dinner, Lela prepared a special buffet dinner for Mariana, Karin, and I, who had stayed the longest of anyone in awhile, and we had one final night of sitting around a bonfire drinking yaqona on the beach. Everyone came out to wave us off and goodbye on the beach the next day, our final rendition of "When I'm dre-a-a-ming..." Hard to imagine we were leaving. Life was so good, so simple there. Shoes hurt our feet. People, towns, cars, all too much. Mariana had to say goodbye to John right there at the dock, as she got on the bus, and he got back on the boat. Sad.

Joe went with us all the way to Nadi (Nandi), and the next a.m. Mariana and Karin left for Auckland at 6, myself at 8. Got a really nice surprise as I came out the gate in Auckland, the two of them standing there with little flowers they grabbed from the airport garden, singing "...when I'm dreaming" in low tones. The three of us suffered through the first day together, looking at photos of Leleuvia, reminiscing, feeling very disoriented and overwhelmed by being thrust back into civilization, having to do things and be places and organize and watch your bags and cross the streets, etc., etc.

Today starting to feel a little better but we're all anxious to get out of Auckland and get on with the New Zealand adventures, whatever they may be. We're going out for dinner tonight and I have to say my goodbyes to them first thing in the morning; my bus is at 8. We may meet again in Bangkok in January, hopefully. Nothing like being alone together on a tiny island for a few weeks to make you friends for life. I'll miss them a lot; the final separation from the Leleuvia reality.

The Leleuvia Song

Somebody told me about this beautiful little island
white sandy beaches that sparkle in your eyes
In the middle of the ocean, not too far away
if you want to forget about your worries
come down and join the party
let's share and care and dance the night away
in the pretty moonlight at Leleuvia

Oh Leleuvia, island of love
Oh Leleuvia, I love you so
Come back again some day my friend to Leleuvia
Come back again some day my friend to Leleuvia

The Fijians told me about this island in the sun
palm trees and bures, the fun has just begun
All different countries, together here as one
Lying on the beaches and soaking up the sun
Gather round the guitar and singing all night long
You can dance to the music, doing actions to the song

Oh Leleuvia, island of love
Oh Leleuvia, I love you so
Come back again someday my friend to Leleuvia
Come back again someday my friend to Leleuvia
The time must come when we all say goodbye
to all our very good friends, don't cry don't cry don't cry
we wish you all a safe and happy journey across the ocean to your destination
Remember Fiji and all the island staff, Tony, Jerry, Anna, Joe, Victor, Leon, Lemani...in the lovely paradise of Leleuvia

Oh Leleuvia, island of love
Oh Leleuvia, I love you so
Come back again someday my friend to Leleuvia
Come back again someday my friend to Leleuvia

(composed by a couple of travellers and island boys a few years back)

Fiji Photos!

On to New Zealand...