PHOTOJOURNAL
March
14 - 21, 2001
Day 312, Wed, Mar. 14, 2001
– It was nice to be back in the muggy tropics, but we were met with a
hellacious tropical storm pounding the airport in Nadi as soon as we stepped off
the plane – we hope it’s not a bad omen.
It was pretty funny because the airport has an open courtyard in the 
middle
and the welcoming grass-skirt and ukulele band had to scamper under an overhang.
We had wanted to come to Fiji for as long as we could remember, after
seeing specials on the Travel Channel and National Geographic and hearing
everyone rave about it. Our friends
Paul and Mary raved after they honeymooned here last
year (at Turtle Island, where Blue Lagoon was filmed). It is famous for its
crystal waters, white sand, and extraordinarily friendly people.
Which is ironic since the islands were once avoided by explorers and
adventurers due to rumors of the culinary habits of the natives.
James Cook stopped by in 1774 after hearing of the “Cannibal Isles”
while in Tonga. He heard right -
after the famous mutiny on the Bounty, Captain Bligh passed by and was chased by
two canoes full of supposedly hungry islanders. Inevitably, traders in
sandalwood, whale products, and sea cucumbers settled, bringing firearms that
tipped the balance of power among warring natives and became currency
themselves. Missionaries eventually succeeded at converting the island (assisted by measles,
cholera, the common cold, and other wraths of God that wiped out a third of the
native population). A hundred years later, Fiji was a British colony and
cannibalism declined, along with the “old
religion”, elaborate face painting, and huge hairstyles (except for a few unfortunate missionaries or merchants who really
pissed off the natives). Now you
can pick up copies of traditional wooden “flesh forks” at the airport gift
shop, along with your war clubs and tapa bark cloths.
The airport booking agency helped us
find a hotel and we were soon on our way to the Coral Coast on the south side of
Viti Levu, the main Island of the 300 Fijian Islands.
We are staying away from Suva, the administrative capital as that is
where all the political turmoil is played out in the streets every once in a
while. The country has been in
turmoil since last year when George Speight, a failed businessman, took it upon
himself to liberate the country from the grips of a multi-racial government on
behalf of native Fijians. It was
sort of the Fijian version of the land-grabs 
in
Zimbabwe except in Fiji there was little bloodshed and the head of the
government wasn’t supporting the radicals.
In fact, the head of the government, Mahendra Chaudhry, and the rest of
parliament, were held captive for a couple months while Speight tried to install
his own government, backed by the tribal council of elders of Fijian blood. His
big beef is that the descendents of Indian immigrants brought over when Fiji was
a British colony have too much economic and political power and subjugate native
Fijians, notwithstanding the fact that the population is roughly 50/50 and the
current government was elected pretty much democratically.
Ethnic tension is an ironic result of a policy Britain 
implemented
to help Fijians maintain land ownership.
Indians were brought in as indentured laborers to work the sugarcane
plantations; they were discouraged from buying land, so they became expert merchants,
small businessmen and bureaucrats. Fijians
still technically own over 80% of the land, but most business, retail, and transport,
is owned by Indians. Speight’s coup was not a
new concept, as the same thing happened in 1987, 17 years after independence
from Britain. The international community reacted
strongly
however, and Speight eventually
released his captives. Today the
current status, outlook and speculation changes every day.
The booking agent got us a
half-price deal at the Warwick, supposedly the best grand old hotel on the
island. We talked to the guys in
the office about the political situation, and they said it was due to “trouble
makers in Suva – it’s bad for business”.
Our hotel is about half way along
the road to Suva,
but that’s as close as we will get. We
were excited, but a bit unsure if we would get there since the driver had an
unnerving habit of turning off his lights every once in a while.
We had visions of the madman driver from Seychelles, so we thought it
better not to watch. We eventually
got off the bus with the guitarist playing with the band at the hotel tonight.
The Warwick is huge, and we soon found out why the Hyatt chain sold the
joint. We had small complaints,
but we are so near the end of our journey that we were just looking forward to a
little vacation from hassles.
********
Day 313, Thur, Mar. 15, 2001
– Took a day off, sort of, to relax and plan the rest of our stay in Fiji.
It was overcast, so we played ping-pong and had delicious BBQ fish while
watching dozens of 
overweight
Aussies play water volleyball in the pool.
They cheered “Hey, Hey, Hey, Hoy, Hoy, Hoy” after nearly every point,
then lumbered over to the side of the pool for their beers. That drove us to the beach. We
are amongst the youngest people here – the 
pool area looks
like a retirement home in Florida. We
were tempted to ask some of them if they had trouble voting in the election.
They were all very sweet, of course, and we shouldn’t make fun since
we’d love to be doing what they are doing at their age.
We played with crabs and frogs and collected shells along the beach.
While I was kayaking, Naomi barely avoided getting knocked on the head by a
falling coconut. That reminded us
the “watch out for falling coconut” sign in Cairns.
Everyone we ask says Fiji’s
troubles are behind and the future is fine – this 
despite
the local news announcing new controversial resignations/appointments/court
cases every day. We took complete
advantage of the Manager’s Special Happy
Hour – free drinks! They even had a “traditional” torch-lighting ceremony –
using a Bic lighter. After 6 watery
“tropical punches”, we switched to rum and coke, which they actually mixed
quite generously. The effect was
nice enough to set us up for a great vacation evening.
********
Day 314, Fri, Mar. 16, 2001 -
Took a one hour ride east on a winding ocean road to start a dive on Beqa
island, billed as one of the top 10 dive sites in the world.
The fish were incredible – a school
of dozens of huge trevelies some as big as Naomi.. They circled us and came within touching 
distance.
We attracted a lot of attention – including that of a fat,
nasty-looking bull shark. He
eyed us from about 15 meters before gliding awesomely away. We also
saw hundreds of beche-de-Mer, the black slug-like sea cucumber that has
stringy guts that look like spaghetti and are considered a delicacy in
Asia. Naomi snorkeled
above us and we waved up to her. After
a wonderful fresh tuna lunch the second dive was at “coral gardens” with
beautiful fish and a good percentage of live 
coral
– even after cyclones, El Nino, and global warming.
It was a great dive, and we were lucky to be out there in decent
visibility in the sun since it has been raining every night.
The ride back to the dock was through a very ritzy neighborhoods where the few
rich Fijians and many rich foreigners have villas on the waterway with yachts
tied out back. It reminded us of Miami.
"To enjoy your work is important. I am lucky because I enjoy it like
a hobby. I get to meet different people from all over the world."
"My
family is most important. That is why I still work. I am 62 years
old. But I enjoy my work too. Tourism is not bad. The coup we
have now is not as bad as last time when many people stay away from Fiji.
But when they come, it is a different story altogether when they see we are
still very hospitable. We still smile. We like our work."
On the way back, the uniformed (but
barefoot) kids were just getting out of school and heading home, women were
selling vegetables and men were working their 
yards. Tonight was no exception for rain - we still haven’t seen a
sunset after 3 days in Fiji. We did
see a lot of orange and red though at the fire walking demonstration at the
hotel. Villagers from Beqa, where
the tradition started were brought in to tie grass skirts over their Bermuda
shorts to entertain tourists. It
was very impressive - one guy was sort of a ham, pausing to smile for
cameras every time he walked across the rocks. He probably wouldn't be
smiling if this was the Indian version of fire walking, which retains a
significant religious meaning and includes fasting, trances, whippings and body
piercing. After the show the "Island Night" of singing and dancing in the hotel lounge was beautiful - even 
the
conga line at the 
end
with gray-haired grandmas. They
were having a blast, and so were we – almost assuaging my gloom over
Indiana’s pitiful performance (once again) in the NCAA basketball tournament.
I’m really looking forward to that email I’m going to get
from our friend, Duane.
*********
Day 315, Sat, Mar. 17, 2001
– Well, after 314 days of 24/7 with each other covering some thirty countries,
dozens of cities and hundreds of hotels and enumerable tests of faith,
compatibility and humor, we decided that we had passed the compatibility test
and decided to go ahead and get married (OK, we really planned it all along).
Unfortunately, we found out yesterday via email that we can't do the
deed in Rarotonga after all, since we need to have our original certified
birth certificates and we only had photocopies with us. It now looks like
we’ll have to get married in Fiji after all, but there was nothing we could do
to plan it until Monday when all the shops and government offices opened up.
The next best thing of course is to go to a tropical getaway island
paradise. We decided on Musket Cove
Resort because it had a nice brochure, short boat ride, good write up in the
guidebooks, and was priced well. The
resort is on Malololailai Island in the Mamanuca Group.
One thing we really love about the South Pacific is the Polynesian
language, with its economy of sounds and abundance of vowels – which require a
lot of repeat sounds in the same word. We
checked out of the Warwick and took a 9:00 bus to Nadi.
The one hour trip took two hours because we stopped at every hotel on the
way and we still had time to go to the Sheraton Denaru to look for wedding
clothes before the Malolo Cat ferry was due to leave.
We couldn’t find anything – Naomi’s petite off-size is hard to find
in Fiji, especially since she’s about half the size of the typical
Fijian
woman. We carried on to Malololailai
on the boat, still in gloomy weather. The Bermuda-shorts wearing captain
was so laid back he let Naomi drive the boat for a while. When we
got to the island, they gave us the tour of the resort before choosing a room
far from the beach with A/C instead of the beachfront bure
(hut) with ceiling fan (and more critters).
The staff are very nice all
around. We shopped at the general
store for breakfast and lunch goodies and had great salads for dinner near the
pool. 
It was our first time
without TV in 
awhile, so we relished the peace and
quiet at night and got some reading and
writing done. I had been woefully
remiss in keeping up and am now nearly four months behind.
Anyone checking the website would think we were still in Nepal in
November of last year! I am very
upset with myself, but Naomi tells me not to work so hard and enjoy more.
A little suggestion goes a long way in the tropics and I reverted to
living on Fiji time (or was that Thai Time or Bali Time or Scuba Time?).
Fortunately, although the timing is not there, the intent and the spirit
are and we continue to collect interviews and ideas.
********
Day 316, Sun, Mar. 18, 2001
– Naomi went on a snorkel trip and I went diving with a great group of
English, Aussie and formerly Zimbabwean divers.
The English group had been celebrating a 
birthday
last night in the restaurant and we clapped along to the songs of the bar band,
Big Bill and His Band, and the singing of waitresses.
We went first to Plantation Pinnacles – two tall coral heads. The dive was fairly uneventful at depth except for a good
swim-through tunnel. The tops of
the pinnacles were much better with colorful soft and hard corals and some
beautiful fish – some I hadn’t seen before.
The second dive at Magic Island was much better - gliding over huge
fields of coral 
with large schools of fish – including a lion fish and a stone
fish – two things that could kill you if you touched them or pissed them off.
They always make for exciting dives – not to mention a large
triggerfish defending her nesting area. After the trips we talked to Mitimiti in
the office about the wedding plans. They
have experience with this and even have packages and ala Carte perks to choose
from like a menu, but they usually need a month’s advance warning to start
planning and we were thinking of doing it in two days.
They were a bit surprised, but laughed and said “no problem”.
We just need to go to the registry office in Nadi tomorrow for the
wedding license and get some decent clothes (Naomi vetoed the idea of getting
married in swimwear) and they will arrange the minister, flowers, photographer,
band, choir, cake, champagne and romantic boat to sail into the sunset
afterward. Sounds pretty good to me
– and the best part is we spent two hours
planning what some couples take months to plan (take that, Martha Stewart).
This is a bit misleading however, since we had been planning the one-year
pre-honeymoon for quite a bit longer. We
were relieved to be all sorted out, so we took a long stroll around the island
looking for seashells and taking photos. For
the first time in Fiji, the sun was beating down and the sunset was setting
orange and pink on the horizon. We
took photos from the private island on which the wedding will take place, hoping
that the weather will hold for two more days.
*******
Day 317, Mon, Mar. 19, 2001
– Took the Malolo Cat back into Nadi to meet our driver for the day, Pandit,
who
took us to the nondescript government offices in the water works building.
The young girl in the office was more excited about the wedding than we
were, asking 
how we met and how the
ceremony will go as she completed the forms and copied our passports and birth
certificates. I wasn’t too
surprised to find out from the
form that my marriage status was “bachelor”, but Naomi was quite taken back
to find out she was a “spinster”. The girl about fell off her chair giggling when we told her
that word usually has a 
rather
old age connotation in the US. The
whole process took just 20 minutes and we were off shopping.
Nadi is very small, so we must have tried every 
clothing store looking
for a dress. Poor Pandit was quite patient as we dragged him from place to
place, but some sales girls were almost as frustrated as Naomi since they could
not find a good fit anywhere. She
finally found one (very pretty in my opinion) in the last place we were going to
stop. When we got back, we had a
great dinner and watched the red sunset from our appointed spot again.
*********
Day 318, Tues. Mar. 20, 2001
– Well, this is it. The day has
finally come. Two hours from now
our lives will change forever and we will no longer be single (bachelor and
spinster, that is). It is an
emotional day, but we are taking it pretty well.
We slept in and feel pretty crappy actually after a ridiculous night of
drinking last night. We don’t
even remember some of it, so we’ll have to check the video later.
It all started innocently enough (ha, ha) with free drinks from the
management at cocktail hour. Six
rum punches later we were sitting with our new friends from England. Ian and Kris (who just happened to get engaged a few days
ago), Scott, and Catherine. Being
English, drinking is not a problem for them, and they were kind enough to start
buying us a few as well. We
protested, of course, but they said, “You only get married once, you know”.
Soon enough, it turned into a traditional “hen night” for Naomi and a
“stag night” for me. On a secluded island, it’s a little tough to find the types
of entertainment one would usually need for a stag night back home, so we
settled for the old standby – copious amounts of alcohol, followed by a little
more alcohol, and finished off with a quick hit or two of alcohol.
All backed by Big Bill’s island
band
and some choral singing and dancing. It
was a great night, but somewhere after the rum punch, double Cuba Libres, red
wine, beer, gin and tonic and some thoroughly ungodly concoction called a
flaming cockroach, it all started to blur a bit until we were yelling “Bula!”
to everyone in sight, including the cows and trees. I wound up singing Elvis songs to Naomi from the balcony,
trying to get her to come out for “one last” swim in the ocean.
She would not relent, even after I tortured half of The King’s
songbook, so I went for a stroll down to the beach myself.
That was the last I remember before waking up with a splitting headache
and double vision. Don’t get us
wrong, we are by no means advocating drunken debauchery, but our new friends
reminded us of the uniqueness of the occasion
- a “one off” as they say. 
We’re
feeling a bit better now (although the island masseuse was booked solid) and
Naomi is taking a nap next to me as I write this.
The photographer and reverend are due in an hour.
We can’t wait to hear the questions he will ask us and find out what
our vows are going to be. Good
planning, huh? Of course, to us the
most important thing is we have each other – and we’re very fortunate to
have something many people look for. We
are blessed in ways too many to count.
********
Day 319, Wed. Mar. 21, 2001
– Well, the rest of yesterday was perfect.
The minister was this huge jolly rugby player type that looked like a
cross between Rosie Grier and Johnnie Cochran.
We thought it was ironic that he was wearing an LA Lakers jersey when we
met – and
his name was Johnny! 
I
would have thought it was two strikes against him, but he was overwhelmingly
gregarious, with a hilarious chuckle at the slightest provocation.
His barefoot kids couldn’t stop smiling at us as we went over the vows
on his porch. Then, the
professional photographer, Mary, took some shots – most of which faithfully
represent our yearlong eating binge and some in which we look either stoned,
sleepy, or brightly reflecting shiny fake smiles.
I took the long and fateful walk on the jetty, past the bar
(unfortunately) out to Smith Island while Naomi boarded a canoe to bring
her to the western point of the Island. I should have stopped at the bar because
the canoe took forever, with 
one
poor guy standing at the back in a silly grass skirt trying to paddle gracefully
as Naomi sat in a chair like Cleopatra (or at least the queen of the Rose
Parade). I was laughing out loud because they didn’t tell us about
the guy-in-skirt part and Naomi hates to be the center of attention like that
(although she was an undeniable vision of loveliness floating up the cove).
As I reached the point, the resort’s female choir was breaking into beautiful hymns and island love songs,
most of which I could only admire the notes and harmonies because I couldn’t
understand the words. Ian
graciously volunteered to videotape the proceedings with my camera, and 
Catherine took our Fuji still
camera. Scott also took a roll of
film with his camera (which he gave to us later).
They were all real troopers to help us out so much (not just with the
alcohol consumption duties last night). We
were very lucky to meet them. By
the time Naomi arrived at the steps of the island, an audience
had gathered from the bar and the angelic choir had spurred us to a heightened
level of anticipation. No one smiled bigger than I did when she stepped ashore
barefoot to meet me under the archway of flowers and palms. We held hands as Johnny welcomed us and the witnesses,
then said a little prayer. The vows were
short and sweet, and we 
recited
them dutifully, smiling and looking at each other.
Naomi had warned that she probably would not be able to look in my eyes,
but she did anyway, even managing a classic Naomiesque eye-roll and
smile when she vowed to take me for “better or worse” (I have the videotape
to prove it). The whole thing was over rather quickly and we were relieved to finally
kiss, to the applause of the gathered witnesses and drunks – an odd
combination of choir robes,
sunburns, dress pants, shorts and bikinis – many with cameras and videotapes.
It was just the way we envisioned it – casual and fun, but still
romantic. The choir was backed by 
Big
Bill and his Band – and Bill launched into
an impromptu version of “I Can’t help Falling in Love With You”.
We danced under the archway, catching glimpses of the crowd with cameras
and some of the women wiping tears. It
was quirky and beautiful and wonderful.
Mitimiti passed us the bottle of
“French” champagne and I launched the cork into the sea.
We 
poured a glass – toasting and posing, and then walked down the steps to the 
waiting
boat that took us out into the sunset. Mother
Nature had cooperated all day with sunshine and a cool breeze, but the sky at sunset was not as red and purple as yesterday.
We didn’t mind. We relaxed
on board with the driver, Inoke, and drank champagne for half an hour, waving
back to the Island and passing boats. It
was fantastic, and we were very relieved that it was over – collapsing on the
bench of the boat. We returned
later to cut the cake, which somehow had no writing on
it (they later took it off our bill without us even asking).
We posed for more photos, and 
gave
the cake away to everyone in the bar. We
walked down the pier, balancing the heavy cake on my head and cutting pieces for
the girls in the choir, the office staff, the store personnel, waiters and
waitresses, the staff playing volleyball, and anyone else we ran into.
Back at the restaurant our table was already set in the sand near the
beach for our special lobster dinner – they were so huge, they overflowed the
plates and rested their legs on the table.
We couldn’t resist the temptation to play with the props like “Whose
Line Is It Anyway”.
After dinner, we joined the crowd
around Big Bill for more songs and drinks.
Without even asking, Bill played “Imagine”.
We were all a bit more subdued compared to last night, although we did
have kava again after watching how they make it -wringing the liquid out
of a cloth
with their bare hands. It looks
suspiciously like dirty dish water and tastes like old socks, but we 
grew to
appreciate the now-familiar numbness in our lips, and accepted each invitation
made to us, which we lost track of. After
all, how many latte-snorting Starbucks hounds can say they actually enjoyed
their first cup of coffee? Besides,
it’s an invitation you really can’t refuse without insulting the Band –
and we wanted them to keep playing. Big
Bill was covering everything – Beatles, Elvis, James Taylor, Jim Croce,
Drifters, Jimmy Buffett, and Eric Clapton. We
were joined by a group of Aussies in the midst of a 40th birthday
party from the Island Bar and after a couple of hours, we were literally
exhausted and stumbled to our rooms, having convinced ourselves that we had
enjoyed the most unique and incredible wedding day in history.
*********
Today, we woke up as married people
for the first time and we both had splitting headaches. We’re
pretty sure 
there’s
no connection (we’re blaming the kava). We
skipped plans to snorkel and just slept in forever.
We eventually got up for lunch, making final arrangements with Mitimiti,
settling our bill, and saying goodbye to all the staff at the hotel - the
waitresses (i.e. choir girls), scuba guys, boatmen, market girls, maids, and of
course, the English folks:
Catherine: "The most important thing is just to be happy. How? I haven't figured that one out yet"
Ian: "Happiness. And treat everyone as you would like to be
treated"
Chris: "To be happy and get everything you really need - so you're not hungry, not worried, not frightened or whatever"
Scott: "Friends and happiness. I'd say without friends you can't be happy. And a nice cold beer."
We left in the resort truck and got
all the way to the dirt-floor airport "terminal" before realizing that
they had forgotten to 
charge
us for Mary, the photographer.
The plane
was late, but I ran across the airstrip, back to the hotel and into the office. They were surprised, but happy, to see me - sweating in their
office from the jog. I paid the
remainder and said more goodbyes and we were off, flying in a little Sunflower
Airways 8-seater, over the blue lagoon, beaches, palms and coral and into Nadi.
At the airport, we met Mary with the photos and negatives.
Well, lets just say we had a whole lot more fun than the photos
indicate. I look bloated and
rosy-cheeked from sun, and Naomi is never happy with any photos of her (although
I think she came out fine). We had
a good laugh anyway and promised each other that only a few people (e.g. our
mothers) would see the entire set. We
boarded the Air New Zealand flight and said a sad goodbye to Fiji – a
beautiful place with 
beautiful
memories for us. It seemed like a
much too short visit for us, especially since we didn’t get to see much of the
countryside or local culture. What
we did get to experience was very impressive.
We hope that the joy we saw in the wonderful people can reach the
politicians in Suva and prevent another coup and further violence.
We would like to return to a happier, more prosperous and stable country
for our anniversary some day.
*******
If you would like to follow our adventure to Rarotonga, please click
here: Photojournal March 21 - 27, 2001
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