One morning last week, Jimmy and I were lingering over breakfast, watching the water dance in patterned waves as large fish moved just under the surface, chasing hundreds of smaller fish, driving them toward the surface where they exploded from the water in a spectacular rippling motion, hundreds of tiny fish moving as one large body. When they first arrived last month with their aquatic acrobatic act, they captured everyone’s attention. Everyone flocked to the beach to watch them. The Fijians remarked that they were happy to see them, that they had been gone a long time. They cautioned everyone not to spearfish them, because it would certainly make them go away.
As the weeks have ticked on, they have become as much of a part of the island as the sea itself – always there, always moving in or out with the tides. The fish are silver, about 2 inches in length, and have surrounded the island by the millions. Looking down on the sea from a high vantage point, a thick ribbon of these silver fish is visible around the entire island. If you watch long enough, you will see barracudas, sharks, and trevali moving amongst them, feeding like kings.
As we watched this awesome display as we have so many other mornings this last month, Leavi came and sat down at the table across from us. From the excited look in his eye, we could tell he had something to say. In his kind and gentle way of speaking, he began, “Lately, I have seen many things for the first time on Vorovoro.” He gestured with his hand toward the sea, where the fish were still dancing. “This is the first time for these fish to come like this to Vorovoro. Before, they only come a few days, or not at all. These fish, Daniva, they are a very good thing, a very good sign. They mean good things for Vorovoro. They bring us what we need, they bring the big fish. This morning, Jone and I picked up 3 dead Daniva from the sand, put them on a hook and pulled in three big fish.” He shows us on his forearm the length of the fish, at least 2 feet long.
“In our culture, these fish coming mean very good things. These fish coming back, they come back because good people are here, people who care for the land and care for the people. Someone to look after the island who is good in his heart. Does not speak harsh and does good work. Cares for the people, the Mali people. This makes us very happy. Good things happening with Vorovoro.”
Jimmy and I listened to Leavi’s voice, and his kind, wise words. A truly beautiful compliment if there ever was one. We tried to accept it graciously, “Vinaka vakalevu, Leavi”, and then quietly tucked it away in our hearts.
Whether the fish coming back has anything to do with us being here is not for us to determine. But, we do not doubt the wisdom and the intuition of our Fijian friends and teachers. They understand things in ways that we do not, cannot, because we are not Fijian. Fijian culture and ways are intricately subtle. I’ve heard it said that you could live in Fiji for 10 years, and then you just might begin to really understand. I believe there is truth in that statement!
While living here, we’ve witnessed the Fijian people’s remarkable connection with one another, with the sea, and with the land in amazing ways, and it humbles us. It teaches us yet another way of interacting with our lives and the land, and so we open our hearts and our minds and try to learn the Fijian way – by paying attention and not asking too many questions, because when you are busy asking questions, you often miss out on the answers you were after all along.
