Water Irony

The past month that I have been back in Fiji has been rainy season. You can't comprehend this concept unless you have lived in a tropical area, particularly one with sub-par infrastructure. It rains. A shitload. When you step outside its like being under a waterfall. Solid water pouring from the sky. An umbrella is not of much use as it is raining so incredibly hard that the raindrops bounce up at least a foot when they hit the ground and soak you from the bottom up anyway. Add to that unavoidable puddles, drains-cum-rivers, muddy thong flick up the back of the legs/but/back, leaking roofs, windows and buses. Getting wet is inevitable. But its not the getting wet that is the problem, in fact it is often welcomingly refreshing. Its the being wet that is problematic. Just ask any AYAD in Suva how many times they have been to the doctor/hospital for a skin infection/ boil/ festering wound/ lung infection etc etc. I believe this is a result of being constantly and unavoidably damp all. the. time. The humidity, rain and lack of sunshine accumulate to ensure your skin is always damp, your clothes never dry and your sheets are moist when you go to bed at night. Uncomfortable to say the least. Fortunately this is not the case in beautiful Ba (aka the burning west). In Ba we get a lot of unfathomably intense sunshine, so much so that by the time you have finished hanging your clothes on the line the first items you pegged up are already dry. Lucky us right! Unfortunately Ba only works in extremes, and although it may be stinking hot and dry most of the time, when it rains it does much more than pour. The result? Flooding. Serious, serious, flooding.

In the past month alone Ba has had one major flood, affecting the entire town and a number of smaller floods affecting localised areas. Afternoon thunderstorms can cause torrential down pours leading to flash flooding. I experienced this earlier this week when a river suddenly appeared across the road and the bus I was traveling in just stopped and a line of traffic formed until about 20min later one car decided to risk it, made it, and everyone else followed. On other occasions at the first sign of rain school will be cancelled to ensure the children make it home before the rivers rise and they are stranded on the wrong side. On other days classes are cancelled because the rain is so heavy it drowns out all other sounds and the teachers cant be heard.

Luckily, due to the small matter of missing my plane from beautiful Taveuni one day, and being stranded for an additional 5 days until the next plane came to rescue us, I missed the BIG flood.  During this flood our suburb turned into an island and the  rest of town turned into a river. People were panic buying from the few supermarkets and corner stores that were not underwater.  Electricity and water were wiped out. And Amy declared floods the most boring natural disaster.

Saviour plane arrives in Taveuni!

Ba - 3 days post flood, Market, town and many suburbs and fields still inundated

flooding in nearby town

the water level was up to the roof of the fish market (see mud still stuck in flyscreen)

town was covered in slippery, slimy, smelly mud

a river that no longer meandered

mud

Ba has still not completely recovered from the flood. There are many children who have not returned to school as bridges to their villages have been wiped out, others have not returned to their homes as they are filled with mud and there is no water to wash it out.  Water and electricity are irregular but improving. Tap water is no longer safe to drink. The major supermarkets are still half empty (the bottom half), on evacuation alert. The market is almost deserted as not only are farmers unable to travel to town but their crops have been wiped out too.  Cases of waterborne diseases including typhoid, leptospirosis and dengue fever are being reported (as tea room gossip) everyday.  The bus trip to Lautoka is a completely new experience as the hillsides have transformed into a series of landslides, waterfalls have appeared in new locations and villages along the way are abuzz with mud shoveling, repair works and crowds of locals on river level watch.  Ba is a wonderful community and everyone has pitched in in what ever way they can and things will be back to normal in no (Fiji)time at all (lets hope that is in my time). In the mean time I can just keep filling old water bottles with water for a rainy day (literally) and enjoy watching the teachers jump and cover their ears whenever they hear a clap of thunder. :)



And here is an equation for the irony of water in Fiji

Too much water = floods = broken infrastructure = no water =
- no showers
- no washing clothes
- no washing dishes
- no drinking from the tap
- no washing surfaces
- NO FLUSHING THE TOILET


Enjoy hopping into your cosy bed tonight in your clean pj's after a steamy shower and a calming cup of tea.

xx

Bula Wear

Bula wear is the the "traditional" wear of Fiji. It is used to describe the fabric that is then sewn into shirts for the men, and sulu jiabas for the women.  Kalavata is the term for matching bula wear worn as a uniform.  Bula is rated according to its eyecatching factor. The brighter, busier, bolder, the better.  Bula means life therefore bula wear is worn to celebrate life. Since being in Fiji I have embraced the traditional dress. It all started with a compulsory Kalavata for school, and has since expanded to 4 sulu jiaba ensembles. And I don't plan to stop there.  Bula heaven is Paddy's, closely followed by Materialized. This is where I really lose my shit. Just ask Amy, there is no point in trying to converse with me whilst I am surrounded by such luscious prints, I am well and truly overstimulated and cannot be expected to divert my attention to any other matters.



here is a pictorial list of the variety of bula wear you can expect to encounter in Fiji

BABY BULA

FAMILY BULA

BRIGHT BULA

SCHOOL BULA

BEST BULA

PARTY BULA

BIG BULA

VILLAGE/ CHURCH BULA

MARKET BULA

KALAVATA

 currently on trend is Christmas bula wear. Result is many extra large, walking talking Christmas presents

CHRISTMAS BULA

 some of my bula wear:

Kalavata

I'm always taking orders if you are interested in joining me and embracing this energizing, ageless fashion spectcle.


cost = 3m of fabric + $10 tailoring

BULA!

Just popping down to the supermarket. Do you need anything?

Supermarket shopping in Ba is a chance to reconnect with our ancestors and test our hunter/ gatherer skills and stamina. 

Ba has a lovely selection of 4 different supermarket chains. They are all located within a wonderfully accessible 200m radius of the bus stand in town.

There are:
- 2 MH supermarkets
- 1 Shop and Save
- 1 Rajendra Prasad
- 3 New worlds

Although the items available in these supermarkets are essentially the same (sugar, 2 minute noodles, frozen chicken, white flour), there are some (e.g. yogurt) that can only be bought from one chain. Thus a normal, small, bi-weekly supermarket shop often involves visiting at least 3 supermarkets to locate all the items on our list. Not to mention the fact that we have to then visit the market for fresh items and a good dose of haggling, then the 1.5k uphill walk home.

Thus when we have trawled our way through 1/2 the supermarkets, we often stop and weigh up the necessity of the Houdini item vs imposing dehydration, heat exhaustion, shoulder reconstructions and insanity. Often the un-located item loses out, but not always. Some things are necessary.

I have prepared a list of what you can/cant expect to find when I send you off for a spot of grocery shopping.

Items available:
- soy milk in every flavour, except no flavour
- powder milk, (full cream, light etc)
- 15kg bags of rice, flower and sugar (as long as its white and had the bajezus refined out of it)
- fireworks
- frozen chickens in 15 different sizes
- ghee
- bulk multi packs of instant noodles
- tang/ cordial in every flavour of sugar, so long as its coloured orange
- such soft drink (juice) delights as Sprint, Pops and Fanta in 11 different flavours
- loose, scoop your own frozen pea/corn/ carrot mix.

Items not available:
- meat that wont kill you through a slow (or fast) painful death
- chicken off the bone
- lite/ low fat/ skim milk (long life)
- fresh milk
- crushed canned tomatoes
- frozen berries

Items that have been spotted but are never available when you want to buy them:
- butter
- yogurt
- olive oil
- pesto
- m&m's
- brown rice
- single packs of instant noodles
- apple juice

Happy shopping!

Inspiration board

Tropical weather, relaxed lifestyle, sunny days, fresh as fresh food, good friends, weekends in paradise aside, sometimes working in Fiji isn't all its cracked up to be.  Contributing factors can be varied and numerous. A few examples that have dominated my workplace recently and accumulated into desperate measures being taken include:

• the principal misses our weekly meeting for the 5th consecutive week (its only week 5 of term)
• the teachers sit down to eat their lunch at 12:40 (lunch is from 12-12:45) leaving their classes running amok completely unsupervised
• rescheduling my professional development presentation for the 4th time this term because <50% of teachers stuck out the whole school day, the rest Houdinied out of there AFAP
• Afternoon classes are cancelled for "item" practice (a dance that about 20% of the students are involved in), for the 4th time this week
• Thursday has become the new Friday so now not one but 2 days a week involve zero class time and are instead a mix of sport, recesses that extend into lunch time, video watching and a bit of dance.
• the head teacher still has not taught her class once this term, let alone set foot in her classroom despite  >3hrs in meetings discussing the urgency of this and brainstorming a kazillion ideas...

* (perhaps the reasons aren't as varied as i supposed)

• having a 1hr meeting to decide whether to cook palau or curry for staff social night (curry), then another 1hr meeting to decide what ingredinets need to be bought, where, and for how much, but instead re-discussing what to cook (now palau), then having a 3rd 1hr meeting to decide when to cook the palau, and instead un-re-deciding to cook curry, then deciding to postpone the whole event, then deciding to instead go ahead with it, then reverting back to palau. Then spending the whole day on Friday cooking instead of teaching, or supervising (including taking a machete to whole frozen chickens on a table set up in the playground - mmm boooones!)
• Seeing someone die
• children hitting each other with 1m rulers (or shoes, or books, or anything else they can get their hands on)
• a fave little student not showing for 4 weeks, and when we finally asked "why?" "oh didnt you know! he's not coming to school any more, the family has moved and he's going to a normal school" (no goodbyes :c)
• of the 4+ sporting tournaments that were supposed to dominate this term 0 have eventuated (including a 3 day massive annual event being cancelled)
• the teachers wrote off term three at the beginning of term 2 as being a busy term where there is no time for class work - and despite it no longer being busy the class work remains written off
• most people seem to believe that rain = no school
• etc etc etc 

Sometimes these things accumulate and you feel like you will never make any headway, nothing is getting achieved and every thing is doomed. In addition to developing a killer headache from banging you head against a brick wall.


So..... Yesterday a prominent wall at home was converted into "inspiration board/ achievement wall". A space for us to turn to in times of despair.  It features notes of things that we have already achieved, reminders of moments at school when we found ourselves in tears from laughing so hard, and photos of our beautiful students.  So on a bad day it only takes a glance a the inspiration board to remember that we have achieved things, we are having a good time and we love the kids to death.




- the Pingu post it is because one of our students talks (or trumpets) just like pingu and she makes me smile - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTWv63RyLP8
- Oni has us in fits of laughter from the moment he arrives at school and walks past our room giggling, then walks back again laughing even harder, then back the other way bending double, until we are all aching from laughing too much - love this kid (he also told us that God delivers the sermons at his church- will be visiting there before I leave)


so...
not such a bad gig after all :D

Enjoy work today!

love love.

This side or that side?

"So do you like this side or that side better?" A recent comment made by a Fijian (indo) that has left me speechless. 

As a speechie I, can, at times be very sensitive to peoples use of language. Sure many people speak using appalling grammar, sentence structure, vocabulary etc. etc. (most notably myself) But more often than not these utterances are functionally sound. They make sense. They are a sign of individuality, changing times, personal expression, background etc. And in my professional training/ opinion they are 100% acceptable as long as the meaning is clear - after all we use language as a means of communicating meaning.

But up until 5 months ago nothing has baffled/ infuriated me so much as the Fijian's complete aversion to using prepositions, and more generally, specific language in any form.

As a speechie at home I would teach the use of prepositions on a weekly basis. A common component of language therapy for clients with specific language difficulties or littlies who are struggling to develop language/ speech. They are one of the early language concepts learned by children, and are great fun to teach.

On arrival at BA Special School I contemplated teaching my students, in whom I noticed a general poor level of language development (including a lack of specific language, poor utterance length, sentence complexity and vocabulary) basic concepts (prepositions, adjectives etc). However i very quickly realised my would be folly.  A quick glance at Fijian society revealed these words do not exist in this country.

The most common example I can give you is "this side" and "that side". If you ever dare to ask a Fijian where something is (be it a shop, a school, their village, a knife, a person) you will more than likely be told that it is either "this side", or, "that side".  Predictably these two phrases never mean the same thing twice. So you are likely to remain as baffled as you started out, if not more so.

For example:

J- "where is your village?"
F- "that side"
J-" Namasau?" (other side of the river - usually a safe bet)
F- "no, you know Savusavu? that side." (so somewhere on the 2nd largest island in Fiji, few hundred ks away over vast stretches of beautiful, reef filled tropical seas)

J- where did you buy your earrings Mrs Sami?
S - "just this side"
J - "where bouts?"
S- "you know Chands?"
J- "no."
S- "Chungs?"
J- "no."
S- "Mennoos?"
J- "kinda."
S- "New Word?"
J- "which one?" (a supermarket chain of which there are at least 3 in Ba)
S- "Jacks?"
J- "yes!"
S- "well you go to Jacks, and its that side"
J- sigh.

 So back to the original example "which side do you like better, this side or that side?" Amy and I were asked this by a lovely elderly Indo-fijian lady. The sister in law to one of our teachers, and our current tailor (we sacked the previous tailors after one too many botched jobs). Sitting in her living room after completing our measurements, sipping on warm "juice" (cola), which we declined but were presented with anyhoo, chatting about enormous extended families, marriages, Fiji, the ususal. This horridly familiar, yet slightly original question was posed.  For a second we sat there baffled before Amy spoke up and declared we love living in Varadoli (our suburb, on this side of the river) because its close to town, school etc. etc. Valid answer as we are regularly asked this question. However I was sitting there thinking well were were just discussing living in Fiji. Does she acutally mean Western Division vs Central Division, OR wait a sec i think she means Australia vs Fiji! And in our debrief discussion we concluded that this may indeed have been the intended question. However until Fijian's learn to ask questions properly, we are not going to give them the answers that they are after. On a positive note, the confusion this question/answer created left a lull in conversation after which we were able to make our escape back to our teacher colleague's house next door where our delightfully delicious dinner was being prepared (dhal in the roti before cooking.... ingenious!).

For interests sake a few other examples of terrific non specific Fijian language include:

"call those two and I'll drop you people" Our head teacher asking her daughter to call over her sons so she could drive them into town.

"where did you people go this weekend?" we get asked this every Monday.

J- "who donated all the palau?"
T - "those people, from that side" - double whammy

The use of "pick" instead of "pick up". e.g. "12 children were picked (up by the bus today)", "these people can pick rubbish this side" (the smaller children can pick up rubbish within the school ground whilst the older children collect rubbish from along the road side)

"drop" instead of "drop off" - same deal as above

So using my fabulous intuition and common sense, I have decided no to teach the students prepositions, siting culturally inappropriateness.


Unfortunately Fijians have the opposite problem when it comes to giving times to meet. They tend to be rather specific with their times, however a specific time is more of a very rough, general, not so accurate guide. I feel more times than not it is just made up on the spot as they would prefer to give an answer rather than appear not to know the answer (or admit there actually isnt a set time).

but that is another issue for another blog...

See you all that side sometime!

Walkathon "best day of my life, ever"

The weekend before last was the first annual Ba School for Special Education Walkathon, or as one of the students put it, “the best day of my entire life ever”. And it would have been pretty close.

The plan for the day was to have local businesses and individuals sponsor individual students.  The going rate was $1 per 1km loop of the town.  In addition on the day there would be a number of stalls, games, djs, performances etc. In the days before posters could be found stuck up all over town advertising the big day

our darling newbie even showed

What it morphed into was a fete/ fair day for the BSSE students, (current, past, new and those enrolled that never turn up) and their extended families with a stroll around the oval somewhere in the middle, for the TV cameras. There are many possibilities for why no one else showed including Fiji, Saturday market, family open day at the correctional centre. However the day could not have been better!

Oval stroll

Highlights of the day were:

beanbag "toss"

-     sack races, hilarious, and the students were surprisingly skilled

-     bean bag throwing for prizes, students not so skilled

-     dance performance, with interesting interpretation of  African dress, and the compulsory Shakira song. Parents and other younger children joining in was an awesome bonus

-     dancing – songs were dedicated to teachers, volunteers, students and parents and everyone CS on the DF. Some parents shocked and awed the entire crowd with their rhythm and daring moves.

-    Meeting parents and siblings

-    Our darling K from the slums turning up and joining in the festivities

-   Massive beaming smiles on every child’s face

-    The teachers not having to organise anything and being able to enjoy the day

our kick ass parents Cutting Sick on the Dance F

-     Dancing

-     Students not fighting

-     Great dj playing classics including Fireworks, 
     Rum and Redbull, Eurythmics (one of my all time favourite songs, but what the!), Africa (shakira) etc.

Overall the day raised about $4000 but no amount of money could match the smiles and memories we all took away from the day.

A showing off her best smile

I must give a shout out to one particular student who commandeered my camera for most of the day and not only took some fabulous photos, but also gave me freedom to roam around, dance, sack race, spin children and generally run amok without being weighed down or fretting about kerekere*.

Apprentice Photographer

* The Fijian custom where things go walkabout because what is mine is yours, or borrowing is not considered temporary.

The Nurses come to visit

A few weeks ago it was health check and immunisation day at school. Here's how it played out:

9am, the bus has just arrived and kids start filling past my classroom window. I peek outside and find Senitoa class lining up outside classroom #3 a.k.a. "multipurpose/no purpose room". I wonder what's going on so I ask the closest child who proceeds to demonstrate sticking a needle in his arm. Ah must be immunisation day. Interesting. So I walk down the corridor to sneak a squiz in the room and I see a sea of what is unmistakeably a clutter (correct collective noun suggestions welcome) of nurses. Dressed head to toe in white pinafores, and my memory likes to see stiff white hats to top it off.

and I was drawn into the ensuing spectacle:

The first kid in line is looked at by nurse #1. Tongue out. Torch in mouth. Torch in ears. Inspect fingernails. Check vaccination card. Given OK to enter "the clinic".

Inside:

task #1 eye test - stand behind teachers desk and look at chart on the opposite side of the room. Chart is one of those really appropriate ones with the matching M, E, 3, and W. I watch 2 very young, nervous nurses attempt to explain the task to a child who is either deaf, intellectually impaired, language impaired, non verbal, partially blind, autistic, oppositional defiant, ADHD or has a combo of any, or all of the above.  Observe child try their very best to move their fingers in a weird combo of "east side" "west side""3rd side" and "Manly side" trying to keep up with the nurse who is only trying to demonstrate (but the kid thinks they are acing this one! thinking "I cant believe they make these things so easy"). Pass.

task #2 simultaneous height and weight measuring. This complex task requires 3 nurses - one to read height, one to read weight and a third to record the results.

special task #3- injections! a super awesome experience not only for the poor child that has to receive it, but also for the whole class of students lined up outside peering in the windows wondering whats going on, and the teachers who have to run around the school grounds chasing, finding, consoling and soothing the kids that have flipped after seeing whats in store for them! (thankfully most children were lucky enough to be spared the awful procedure that is needles). Those not so lucky shed a few tears, but then spent the day proudly showing off their spot band aids.

This entertaining spectacle was repeated for each of the 4 classes, with slightly elevated anxiety levels for each new class as they witnessed the hysterics of those before them.*

Little did I know that once all the children were checked over the true spectacle was still awaiting us. The secretary, lovely Irene, came into my room and told me that the head teacher wanted to see me. I was directed towards the "clinic room" where the head teacher pointed to the scales and said get on. I had a little chuckle and admired her sense of humour. And then she cracked another one "I am writing your weight on this piece of paper get on" and it slowly dawned on me that this was no joke at all. All teachers, volunteers, parents and grandparents at school were systematically being weighed, with no exceptions. After much nervous laughing and pleading and thinking light thoughts I stepped on the scales, with 4 sets of eyes peering at the numbers as the pin made up its mind. BAM "insert number" was shouted out and scrawled on the paper nicely next to my name. Amy was up next and BAM her "certain number" was shouted out and duly noted.  Our weights were then compared, discussed, dissected, examined, hypothesised, scrutinised, and finally approved.

The spectacle was not restricted to us whiteys. Each participant (willing or unwilling)'s weight was read out and discussions of who was too heavy and who was too skinny were commenced. As each new adult was shepherded into "the clinic room" their weight was added to the paper and their size added to the discussion.  The heaviest lady (at 105ishkg) was on the receiving end of the majority of comments "you need to lose weight" "I cant believe you weigh that much, you carry B, and you walk to town every day" (carrying B involves carrying him ~10m on and off the bus 4 times a day, and he weighs about 20kg tops). The lightest mum (at 41kg, and a good head taller than me) was also subject to much criticism, "you are too skinny", "eat more", "you need to eat more this and more that".

 It was then proposed that all the teacher's and parent's weights would be typed up and posted on the notice board outside the office for all to see. And on the subsequent nurses visit (next term) our new weights will be placed right alongside so we (or everyone else) can see our progress. We were told by the head teacher not to put on weight, avoid the Dalo, and she will be checking up on us.

The topic of conversation did not vary one bit for the remainder of the day. The tea room was filled with comparisons and comments (always about people in front of their faces, rather than behind their backs. A refreshing, if not awkward approach). Big bones were claimed by the Fijians amongst us. One teacher (83kg) was constantly commenting that she has always been 60kg (unlikely, she is a giant, big bones.) And it went on and on and on until everyone had committed everyone elses weights to memory and told each other what they thought of their mass, girth and impact on earth.

Thank god we didn't have to get needles as well!

*(actually I exaggerate slightly, the majority of the children were much better behaved and braver than I would have ever been, I like to think its because they didn't know what was coming?)