Cyclones, Coconuts, and Funeral - busy week!

We had our first, but not last we’re told, experience with a cyclone this week. After days and days of endless rain, we were alerted Sunday to Cyclone Mick’s approach. So Sunday night we buttoned down the island as best we could – roofs checked to be fastened tightly, tarps nailed over the open air windows of the vales and bures, valuables put up and away, boats pulled onto shore. Jimmy swam out to pull the billibilli in, but the current was so strong it pulled him and the billibilli down the shore – Poasa pulled them back in, but the next day the storm eventually broke the billibilli into pieces and scattered it to sea. We all slept as best we could, until Jimmy woke in a panic around 5 am. He remembered that he had forgotten to lower the wind turbine – luckily he, Jone, and Tomosi were able to lower it in a jiffy and no harm was done.

The ferocious winds and rain continued all day – the sea was too dangerous to take the boat to get the Fijian workers from Malau, so everyone had the day off. We got word early in the day that we were expected to just get the residual storms from the cyclone – the other side of Fiji was getting the direct hit. The biggest danger to us was the coconuts falling from the tall trees, so we tried to stay inside as much as possible. We had a cozy day in the Grand Bure, chatting, reading, crafting, napping, and playing games. The kids were hoping for a “Cyclone Day” - akin to a Snow Day back home when we would call off schooling, but no such luck on that! We found a nice dry space to work instead. Later in the day, Jimmy and the kids went swimming in the crazy huge waves – I could tell that I was missing out on a really good time from all the shrieks of laughter that drifted into the Grand Bure, where I was snuggled up with my book. Next time, I’ll be out in those waves too!

The next day was a big village clean up – coconut palms, tree limbs and debris was everywhere. But many hands make light work, and it was all done and the village was tidy and ready for Tui Mali when he arrived in the afternoon for sevusevu.

This week was a first on Vorovoro – we made 3 liters of coconut oil from Vorovoro coconuts. Kini, our kitchen chef, lead us in this adventure. I videotaped each step of the process and Lucas and Jimmy are going to put it together this weekend into a video that we will upload on the TW website. First we had to gather the coconuts - the ones that have begun to sprout are the best for oil, I found out. So the kids and I foraged through the jungle with a wheel barrow, gathering loads and loads of coconuts. Then comes the husking – Jimmy did that. He got about 25 done before a blister became to painful to do anymore. Then scraping – I did a bit, Ollie and Bethany did a bit, and then Nemani did A LOT! It is hard work, and requires a certain technique that we are still working to master. The Fijians can scrape 5 coconuts in the time I can scrape one half! Then it’s time to squeeze out the coconut milk. A tiny bit of water is added to the grated coconut, then it is placed by the handful into cloth (we used a clean, doubled up mosquito net) and squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed. Strong man hands are best for this job! Next, a coconut husk is put into the fire and burned, then placed into the coconut milk – this acts as a preservative. The coconut milk is then covered and left over night so the cream can rise to the top. In the morning, we scraped the coconut cream into a pot and boiled it until it became oil. It’s feels and smells delicious! We will use it for baking, frying, and to make a herbal bug repellent – Pupu combines various plants and herbs from the island with the oil and we put it on our skin to keep the mozzies and sand flies away. It is a lot of work with so few people working on it, but will be a great thing to do when the tribe is large and there are many people to help with the husking, scraping and squeezing. With sooooo many coconuts on Vorovoro, more than we could ever eat, it makes such good sense to make our own oil!

Jimmy traveled to Savusavu this week – a six hour round trip by bus– to retrieve some boxes that were sent to us for Christmas. For some reason they held them at the port of entry there and would not forward them on to Labasa, but it gave Jimmy a good reason to take the day off and travel a bit. The next time I am hoping that we can come with him and have an overnight – I hear the Savusavu is one of the most beautiful places on Vanua Levu.

Yesterday, Jimmy and I attended our first Fijian funeral. An old man from Nakawaqa died – Nakawaqa is one of the three villages on Mali, which is the island closest to Vorovoro. At low tide you can wade across. Vorovoro is considered a part of Mali – Tui Mali (the chief) is chief over all three villages on Mali, Vorovoro, and another village on the mainland, where many of the people from the island villages go to live when they need to live on the mainland for work or to send their children to secondary school. The funeral was a beautiful and moving experience. When someone from a village dies, the other villages come together to do all the preparation. They all bring food and woven mats (the mats are given at any important event in Fiji – the women spend their time throughout the year making the mats, and then when there is an important event, they are given as gifts), and do the labor of digging the grave, collecting the rocks for on top of the grave, and carrying the body to the gravesite. The women and men each have their separate roles. It is the women’s job to prepare and serve the food, as well as gather in the house of the deceased and sing and weep. The funeral process is several days – on the night before the actual funeral the women stay up all night singing and weeping. The men drink grog. For days and days. The night before the funeral, Jimmy went with Tui Mali to Nakawaqa to present the dalo (a root vegetable) from Vorovoro, and witnessed the tradition of each of the villages presenting a tabua (whale’s tooth) to Tui Mali accompanied by lots of Fijian chanting and ceremony that we hadn’t seen before. The purpose of that hasn’t been explained to us yet – so much of what we experience here we have to figure out as we go – just watch and observe, try our best to follow along and not do or say anything taboo, and eventually someone explains what is going on. There are some things that happen that don’t translate easily or clearly, and we are just left with a vague idea of what happened. After lots of grog and dinner (where Jimmy ate sea turtle intestines!), J came back to VV to sleep before heading back in the morning.

The next morning Jimmy and I rode over Nakawa qa with Tui Mali for the funeral. After a bit of grog, we were told it was time for breakfast – a huge breakfast – fish, fish, and more fish, bread, dalo, and tea. The breakfast was traditionally for the important men in the village and those men helping with the burial, but because I am a special guest I was invited too. It feels so strange to be the only woman at a looooong table of men, but I am told it would feel even more strange to sit and weep with the women. Then it was time to rest – we found a spot on a mat inside Tui Mali’s house (he has a house in each village) and rested and chatted until it was nearly time for the funeral to start.

When it was time for the funeral, the men carried the casket with a tapa cloth draped over it through the village and into the church. Everyone then followed it into the church, where a the funeral service took place. The church services I’ve been to in Fiji are a lot like the ones in the States, except everyone sits on the floor, the service is spoke in Fijian (of course), and they are much, much longer. Sometimes a service will last several hours. This one lasted maybe an hour and a half – both pastors spoke, Tui Mali spoke, and there were intervals of beautiful singing. When the service was over, we headed up to the gravesite – a rocky, slippery hike up the mountainside that even the old women did with ease. The place the old man was laid to rest is breathtaking – high on a hill, overlooking the sea with a view of Vanua Levu and Vorovoro. I can’t imagine a more beautiful place to spend enternity. They covered the casket with mats that the women had brought up earlier, and the casket was lowered into the grave. Everyone gathered around the grave and there was more singing. At the conclusion of the service, the old man’s family was weeping loudly at his grave – it was so emotional to watch. They clearly loved him very, very much. His wife is very sick and old and could not leave the house, but after the graveside service, I am told the women gather in the house and sing happy, joyful songs, to celebrate the life of the deceased and raise the spirits of his family. I didn’t get to witness this part though, because Jimmy and I had to eat lunch (more fish, turtle, cassava, dalo, pineapple, watermelon, tabua, juice – I was SO stuffed!) and then scoot back to Vorovoro to do payroll before the workers headed back to their villages.
Each week brings new experiences and challenges in our life here – we welcome them. This week was one of my favorite so far – a week of much excitement, new experiences, and laughter, as well as reflective time for J and I to remember special people close to our hearts that we have put to rest, just like the old man in Nakawaqa.

This week is Christmas preparation – we are ready to get the island decorated and do a Secret Santa exchange. Tui Mali and his family are joining us on the island on Christmas Day – looking forward to that. There is sure to be lots of grog, song, and laughter!

Merry Christmas to all from us! Blessings of peace and health to you and your families!