One might think that after residing in a country where English is one of the three main languages, my motivation to learn the Fijian language would have disappeared. However, there are a few factors that exist here that have helped me maintain my desire to learn, including the 5,000 kids that aren't yet English speakers, but tend to wreck havoc in my house. It's difficult to convey the message, "For the love of God, get your grubby paws away from my ipod," if you can't speak the language. For the same reason, it is also difficult to explain to the members of the village who aren't fluent in English why it is a good idea to stop burning plastic, to recycle, to compost, stop letting pig waste flow directly into the rivers, etc. Other motivations include the 1000s of tourists that stay at the hotels around my village, where most people work. What better way to make sure everyone knows I'm a bit different from those moneybags than by learning more than the word Bula!, which is the only greeting the tourists in Fiji usually know. The final push came from the fact that my predecessor was fluent. What's one way to stop being told how smart she was in Fijian? Become smart myself. So, over the course of the last few months, I have been working diligently (ok….maybe a slight exaggeration) to learn Fijian.

Like anyone learning a new language, I have made a few mistakes when speaking to people. Ok, that's quite an understatement. I have made hundreds of thousands of mistakes, and probably add another 1000 to the tally every day. However, I have also made a few absolutely hilarious, totally awkward, and completely embarrassing mistakes that are worth writing home about. And so, home, for your enjoyment, here is one of my favorite mistakes.

A woman I'm friends with and her family have recently started a prawn farm in the village. It's a rather large operation with three deep ponds and 500,000 prawns. One day, when the critters were first dropped off, I went with my friend to see what they looked like. The weather that day had been particularly hot and steamy, one of those miserable days when at any second you expect the sky to open up to a torrential down pour, but it never does and instead you just sweat profusely. Luckily, in the evening, when we were looking at the ponds a glorious wind had started blowing. I wanted to share the glory of the weather with my friend, and so I told her "E totoka (it's beautiful) na cago!" Now, in Fijian, cagi (said, thangi) means wind. Unfortunately, I mixed up my vowels and said cago (said, thango). Cago means vagina. Yup, I said that the vagina was beautiful. I didn't understand that that's what I had said, of course, because that word wasn't included in our language training books. It was only after my friend stopped her uncontrollable laughter and could breath that she could explain my mistake. More uncontrollable laughter ensued.

There are plenty more mistakes where that came from. Will share more in another entry! Happy Holidays! Love and miss you all!!

So, there was a coup here.  I'm not really at liberty to talk much about it, but I just wanted let everyone know I'm all safe and sound.  Really, living in the village, aside from the news on the radios being a little louder, you'd never know there was a coup.  This might be different if I could understand what the news on the radio actually said, but that's besides the point.  The point is, it's nice and quiet and safe here, so don't worry.  If anything were to happen that's dangerous, the Peace Corps would consolidate us to a safer place.  They take care of us pretty well.  So far, there hasn't been any violence, and if any were to happen, it would probably be in Suva where the government offices are and not in the friendly west.  It would definitely not be in the villages.  So, all is well here, don't worry!

Every year along the Coral Coast (where I live) the hotels field teams of staff members who compete in events throughout Fiji Day (an independence day).  The day starts off with a marathon relay, followed by a parade, water/waitress relay, boardwalk, coconut tunnel, eggtoss, several kyak races, a raft (the bilibili) race, and swimming races.  While back in the US, a competition like this might be a fun, relaxed day devoted to drinking beers and eating bbq; here in Fiji, the Bilibili Race is taken pretty seriously.  Training for the race at Mango Bay Resort, the closest one to my village, started a month and a half before Fiji Day.  Being new to the village, looking to make friends, and relishing an opportunity to excercise, I joined the team (nevermind the fact that I'm not actually an employee at the hotel, that was sorted out later). 

So, for three weeks before the race (which took place on October 10), I went up to Mango Bay at 3pm, when practice was supposed to start, waited around until 4 or 4:30, when practice actually started, and worked out with the team for a few hours.  For the first week, practrice was really, really hard-reminicent of the hard practices for my high school cross country team.  We had timed runs up and down gigantic hills and then do 30 minutes of sprints on the beach.  After that we did push ups and sit ups.  Three straight weeks of that and the team would have been unstoppable. 

However during the second week that I was training with the team, some problem arose between the village and the resort.  Something to do with the manager sending the chief's son to jail.  Needless to say, that didn't go over well with the villagers working at the hotel, and employee/employer relationships were a little strained.  There was a bit of a strike, and training was kind of interrupted that week.  When practice restarted towards the end of the week, instead of running we kyaked to train for the water events.  While it was great fun to be kyaking inside of a barrier reef in the Pacific around sunset, it didn't do a whole lot for my fitness level.  The next week, we ran some, but also started to practice some of the other land events which involve more coordination than fitness.  Throw in a few missed practices for work related activities, and come race day, my, and probably the rest of the team's, fitness was not quite tip-top. 

Also the week before the competition, we solved the "I'm not really an employee" problem.  Once afternoon I worked with the housekeeping staff sweeping and mopping, making beds, and scrubbing toilets.  I didn't get paid, but as a result, was able to answer, if I was asked (which I wasn't), what my work was at Mango Bay.  I thought it was pretty hilarious, really.   I made sure to give all of the Australian and Kiwi tourists who walked into their rooms a big "Bula!"  Bula is what all of the Fijians say to the tourists, but not really what they use that much in the everyday setting. 

So, October 10 at 4am I woke up with the team (we spent the night together), ate at the hotel, and set off for the first event, the marathon relay.  Each team fields 10 people who each run about 2km in a relay.  I was the 4th runner and was able to pass one gril, but then got passed by one boy.  When I handed off the baton, we were second, then for a while we were first, then after a rough last two legs, we ended third out of seven teams.  Not bad, I thought-wasn't first place, but not bad for the team's first year in competition.  The rest of the team was crushed.  They seemed to have the attitude, first or nothing.  No worries, we still had a half a day of other land events and then an afternoon of water events to catch up, right?  

Not being quite as coordinated as my teammates, I was a spectator for the morning's land events.  And, unfortunately, these eventsw did not go very well.  In some events, the team simply didn't place very high.  In others, we started off well, and then were disqualified.  Needless to say, moral was dropping pretty quickly.  The final blow came in the last event before the kyaking started, the coconut tunnel.  In this event, 10 people have to pass a coconut throught their legs, rotating the person who is in front (if only I hadn't had to wake up at 4am, I might have remembered my camera and been able to document this hilarious spectacle).  Each round of the event, our team came in first, slowly making it to the finals.  Spirits soared, and I htought to myslef, alirght!  Here's the cohesive, enthusiastic team that I've been practicing with.  

Three teams participated in the final round.  Because of the excitement and energy, there were a few false starts.  First one guy from our team did.  Then, a guy from the Warwick and then one from the Naviti, then a few more false starts.  Each time there was a false start, the officials blew their whistles, called the contestants back, and restarted the race.  Finally, as the age old saying goes, the fifth time's the charm, and all of our hard work paid off.  Mango Bay won the race!  As we were all jumping for joy and celebrating, the other two teams claimed that we had false started.  This time, rather than restart the race, it was called a disqualification.  It was at this point exactly that the coach cracked open his first beer.  He continued with the "all or nothing" trend, though this time he found himself on the all side.  The majority of the team followed suit.  Those who weren't drinking beer began to drink kava.  Participation in the afternoon events dropeed steeply.  I was almost going to paddle in the women's kyak relay, but we couldn't find the third pair.  The remaining diehards dropped inot their places around the grog bowl, and the months of training for the races took a backseat to lifetimes of training for kava drinking.  In my mind, it was a happy ending.  Though we didn't win, we all happily sang songs, relaxed, talked, and drank kava into the evening. 

After a very busy day today (picked up rubbish with kids in the morning and went snorkeling in the afternoon), I decided to lie down and take a nap. This is the life, I thought. What a great job! I can go snorkeling and take a nap, and it’s all part of a hard day’s work. As I settled down for my slumber (maybe light sleep would be a better description) I heard all kinds of sounds that I think are very descriptive of life in the village…

Most noticeably, I hear the kids playing right outside of my window. Despite the fact that they keep me from sleeping super soundly, it was nice to hear their laughter and shouts. They are playing this game called Pani, which I suppose is some sort of a mix between Cricket and Dodgeball. There are two teams. One team has a tennis ball and is trying to throw it at a tower of coconut shells. After the stack has been knocked over, the other team tries to hit the players of the other team, dodgeball style, and get them all out before they can restack the coconut shell tower. The trick is that the team restacking the tower and getting hit by balls is allowed to carry boards. If a ball is coming towards them, they can swat it away with the board, giving them some extra time to restack the coconut shells. If all the shells are restacked before the other team gets everyone out, they “win” and start over again. If everyone gets hit by a ball, the two teams switch roles. It’s a really confusing game that I had to watch at least for a week straight to understand.

Other sounds that I hear include lazy dog barks. The dogs here are much quieter than they were in Lauwaki, but you still hear them from time to time. There are three that hang out by my house, and since it’s the afternoon and hot, they are just lolling around making occasional snuffles.

Also, a new, but welcome sound at my house is the sound of my shower dripping. It might be a loud, slightly irritating sound, but it does mean I have water, which is a very enjoyable development, and worth putting up with a noisy drip. For all of you hippies out there afraid that I’m wasting water, no worries. I catch the water in a bucket and then use that water to bathe with rather than the zero-water pressure shower head. It works out quite nicely.

I also hear my friend Laite outside. Well, I don’t hear her, persay, but the sound of a lit being put on a pot. The women in Fiji cook with these gigantic aluminum pots. While most houses have kitchens and stoves inside, the really big root crop dishes, like cassava or taro root (which are eaten at almost every meal), are usually cooked outside over a fire. I think this is because they can take as long as two hours to cook and use so much heat, that to save fuel they are cooked over a fire instead of over a gas stove. Laite is usually cooking for at least six people (husband, husband’s parents and 2 brothers, and any nieces or nephews that happen to be around) so she cooks over the fire a lot and I often hear her opening and closing pots.

So, as I drifted off to sleep, I smiled about being able to take a nap when working and I smiled about living in Namatakula Village. I smiled about my village clean up, people I know, and my house, and thought to myself, this is the life. Then I frowned. I realized that it was a Saturday. Most people don’t think of Saturdays as work days, and can take naps anytime they want. Foiled again! Then again, most people don’t think of snorkeling as work. Take that suckers!

Just wanted to let everyone know I've really made it in the entertainment world.  I have become a major part of the Celebrity Love Island television show.  Ok, maybe major isn't the right word for my role, but I'm definitely in the show; I saw a copy of the episode the other night.  Two people came from the show for a cultural visit to our village a few Sundays ago.  Guess who they chose to sit directly in front of in the church?  That's right, me, the only other foreigner in the whole church.  So, during this episode showing two celebrities visiting a village, there I am in the shot...clearly not a villager.  It was exciting though, to see "celebrities" (I have no idea who they were) come into the church service.  There were cameras all around and big microphones.  It was big news for the village...and provided lots to talk about over the next few days.  In the episode, there is a 5 minute clip about the service, including a hilarious montage of people sleeping through the sermon. What they don't mention in the episode is that the reason everyone is asleep is because they hadn't returned from a choir competition in Suva until 4 in the morning.  Well, it's funny nonetheless.  Anyway, I couldn't find any pictures inside of the church on the show's website, but they do mention the church visit if you want to check it out.  I hear the show might come back next year, and another one from america might come as well.  Maybe next time I'll make it to the website.