Day 16 ~ Fiji Part 2

There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign.
~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Our tour bus had air conditioning, our tour guide Zack told us. To turn it on, all we had to do was open the window. As we rode down the narrow road (on the wrong side since Fiji used to belong to Britain), Zack pointed out sites of interest and gave us a primer about his homeland.

Fiji is actually an archipelago of 330 islands only a third of which are inhabited. Most residents live on Viti Levu, the biggest island in the group, which is also the one we visited. Many of the other islands have no electricity or public water and the university and major hospitals are on Viti Levu. The population is mostly native Fijian, followed by “Indo-Fijian” (descendants of indentured servants who came from India to Fiji back when it was under British rule), and a smattering of other races. Religion-wise, most islanders are Christian (Methodist & Roman Catholic making up the biggest groups. In fact, Zack credits the Methodists with “teaching us not to eat people.” There are also many Hindus and Muslims as well.

Zack said you can always tell a Fijian house because there will be clothing hanging out on the line. Honestly, I wondered if there was a clothes dryer to had anywhere on the island. A red flag was flown over Hindu businesses and homes, which seemed much better kept, and Muslims tend to paint their homes green and white.

Fijian homes are on stilts because this side of the island receives 200 inches of rain a year! 

There doesn’t seem to be much cultivation of the land, except for a few rice paddies. Taro and tapioca are major crops, but to my Iowa-raised eyes, they simply grew haphazardly along the roadways. Milk is imported from New Zealand. If a Fijian has an event to celebrate (birth, wedding, death in the family, etc.) they will buy a cow and have it slaughtered to feed everyone in their village because they are all naturally expected to be there.

If we were to drive all the way around the island on the highway that hugs the shoreline, it would take 11 hours. But we only drove 45 minutes to our destination, the Fiji Arts Center. I was expecting a museum of sorts, but we found a collection of shops instead. For 50 points, guess what this item is and how a native might use it. I’ll post the answer tomorrow.

After a bit of time to wander, we were called to an amphitheater where we’d view the Firewalking ceremony. Traditionally, for 2 weeks before a warrior attempted walking on fire heated rocks, he was supposed to abstain from women and coconuts (because those two things are so very similar!)  

The warriors and women in traditional regalia performed a number of dances and stylized combat. The fighting was carefully choreographed I’m sure, but the ending, with one warrior pinning the other to the ground and using his weapon to break the other’s neck, was bone-chilling.

The master of ceremony explained that when a warrior killed another tribe’s chief, the other men of the tribe were killed as well (and then eaten!). Then he got to pick his choice of women. Polygamy was widely practiced. The children of the vanquished tribe were tied to trees and used as target practice by the children of the victorious tribe.

But out of that bloody past, a much more pacific society has grown. There are no guns allowed on Fiji. Not even the police carry them. Family is paramount. There are even signs on the highway that say “Family waiting. Slow down.” And beyond the family, the ties of each little village bind people together in peace and mutual support.

We had a quick trip back to the ship and then we spent some time watching the workings of an active port from our balcony. Island life is fascinating, but they are so dependent upon imports for many basics. I wondered if there are shortages when cyclone season comes to these waters.

Tomorrow is our last sea day before we reach New Zealand…

More soon!   




12/05/2018 Update: More pictures!

These two fine gentlemen had a competition to see who could crack a coconut first using only a sharpened spike. As it turned out, experience won out over youth & buffness. (To make the competition more interesting, the victor was promised the hand of one of the ladies in the audience, but the reward was not strictly enforced!)

Success at last!

  

The last known victim of cannibalism in Fiji was Rev. Thomas Baker in 1860. I'm trying to imagine how he must have felt, coming to this beautiful island to spread the Gospel and being met with such a primitive people. And yet, his sacrifice paved the way for Christianity to take hold in this remote part of the world. 

Rev Baker was not the last one to die trying to bring his faith to a distant people. Only a few weeks ago, John Chau, an American missionary was killed by the isolated indigenous tribe on North Sentinel island in the Andaman Sea. 

Controversy swirls around Chau's attempt for a number of reasons. Most compelling to me is the fear that he might have brought a new disease to this unreached group. Bacteria and viruses don't respect borders. Illness happens often when people move into a new region and connect with the locals. (One of the reasons we had a whole slew of vaccinations before we started our trip!)

But I have to respect his willingness to lay aside his own expectations and live and die full out for his faith. Rest in peace, John Chau.