Last Night
Last night was a really interesting experience. Even before that, a strange thing happened though. My coworkers had invited me to drink some kava with them after work, but I needed to get money from an ATM badly. So I left my stuff in the office and walked down the block to go to the ATM. I wasn’t sure exactly how to get there, but I found my way. I got back and they were gone. I stuck around (this was after 5pm) for a bit more, but left and caught a taxi. It’s funny when I told the cab driver where I was going – 46 Nabua Street in Samabula – not exactly somewhere they’d expect a white American kid to be going to. So the driver dropped me off and the fare was $3.50. I handed him a $20 bill and he looked shocked. He said he did not have change. So he dropped me of at the shop near my house and I asked if I could get change. Yet they didn’t. Luckily I saw my neighbor Bill who explained to the driver what was going on. He didn’t have money I could borrow on him for the minute either though. He drove me then down the block where I finally got change. It was a really stupid thing. My family told me if the driver doesn’t have change it’s my right to simply leave. Good to know for the future.
At night after dinner I took a nice two hour nap, but needed to get up to do my weekly assingmnent. For the first week at our homestay we had to organize a kinship diagram of the family and everyone in the home. Naps, (short for Napoleon) my host brother, was down the hill behind my house drinking kava with neighbors. I didn’t know before, yet he explained to me how right down from our house – which is sufficiently modern for Suva standards – of course with electricity, a TV, DVD player… etc. basically everything in an American home except hot water and internet – are what they call squatter homes. These basically are $70 per month little shacks that have no electricity and only outdoor water. The people that live there are friends of my family, and they try to help out sometimes by giving them some food. It’s actually quite sad. One couple just got some kava plants from their home village in Kadavu in exchange for bread and they plan on selling it. So we bought some from them and sat around drinking until 1am last night. What amazed me the most is the attitudes of the people living there. As they sit in the circle drinking with a stereo blasting the radio, they are okay. While it’s probably not an easy life, they are comparatively happy due to their friends and family members support. One really striking moment in particular was just the music playing. American pop music is huge in Fiji. I am asked almost on a daily basis from different Fijians if I know celebrities (being from New York). So Paris Hilton’s song came on the radio and this older lady started dancing along happilly. It was quite a scene. I wondered if Miss Hilton (who must be worth a million bucks) realized where her music is playing in every corner of the earth and who in fact is listening. What was particularly sad was the story behind this dancing lady. Naps explained to me after that her husband is a bouncer in a club and he is a very agressive man who pushes her around. He gets home a bit before one every morning, so as we sat there she (and the rest of the group) kept nervously keeping an eye to see if he was on his way back because he would not like to see her socializing and having a good time.
On a different note, there are two types of relationships in Fijian culture – respect and joking relationships. The best though are obviously the joking ones. Normally one would joke with their tavale. It’s a bit confusing to catch on at first who a tavale would be, but it’s a cross cousin. So it would be either your father’s sister’s kids or mother’s brother’s kids (yet not children of the same sex sibling – those are just considered cousins). So Fijians joke around and make crude sexual comments to their tavale. The other joking relations are between different regions of Fiji. It has to do with the fact that members of different regions used to be enemies. So my neighbor is from the area where my family (who are from Kadavu) jokes with. It’s really funny to see them joke and Naps and Jim both pointed it out to me a few times. When I asked the couple if they had kids, Jim jokingly responded “No kids, but they do have a dog!”
The street where I lived also has a “club” of the people that live there. They host weekly meetings in different homes and on Saturdays play volleyball and have picnics. So tonight is their weekly meeting and I think I’ll go. I have to write up my weekly field notes and make a formal version of the kinship diagram I made, but hopefully I’ll have time.
Now back to work!
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