In the late 70’s I went through a life changing adventure. For the past 5 years I was traveling around Australia on my motorbikes. From Perth to Darwin. Down to Sydney and Melbourne. I traveled every State and had way too good a time. Since finishing my apprenticeship as an electrician I carried these skills with me and worked everywhere.
Instead of buying another motorbike and staying on this carousel, I was talked into travelling overseas by my Kiwi girlfriend, Jill. To this day I was so glad to heed her advice. A couple of my biker friends wanted to go to England to buy “Nortons”, to tour Europe and then bring the bikes back to Australia. I wanted to buy a “Triumph” or “Moto Gussie” and to see Disneyland so chose to go across the Pacific to California and then meet them in England 3 months later. I got delayed by 20 years.
I traveled New Zealand and then the next stop was Fiji. I landed at Nandi airport and stayed my first night there. This was my first experience with a foreign culture. I went out and explored the restaurants and bars. I bussed to Suva the next day and after a couple of days in the big city I was looking for a more remote place so I could really get to know the people and their lifestyle.
Overlau Island is off of the east coast of Fiji. Getting off of the ferry with my backpack and a smile I headed into the small town. I can’t remember how I met this local guy named Malakai (spelling is mine!) but he was very friendly and asked where I was staying. I didn’t have any plans
so I asked for a suggestion. I ended up going across the island to his place.
He introduced me to his family. His wife Litae (spelling is mine!), his 2 boys about 10-12 years old and his daughter who was 3 or 4 years old.
They lived in a small 3 room shack and showed me where to put my backpack. I remember it was a Sunday and it was about dinnertime. Litae cooked up a great meal of goat meat and starchy veggies. Malakai and I ate and he said Litae and the kids will eat later. He saw how fast the food disappeared from my plate so topped me up again. This was cool! We went outside after dinner and just talked about life in Fiji. He had a bottle of Johnny Walker and put a small amount in a glass with a lot of water. No ice.
The next morning for breakfast it was eggs and more starchy veggies. I went up to the banana patch with him and the boys. We tendered the crop and cleaned up a new area where they were getting ready to plant another crop in a month time. Every day was different, we went to tend the crops or I went spearfishing with the kids. Always home for lunch and then a double plate dinner.
It was getting close to Christmas and one afternoon a bunch of his mates came over with a couple of 26oz bottles of beer, Fiji Bitter. Warm. They just opened one and passed it around until it was gone then opened the other one. Different but effective.
I do remember going to my first Kava ceremony while with Malakai. We entered this thatched hut with the traditional grass mats on the floor. There were reed curtains on all sides which are lowered when it rains. In the hut I was explained the protocol. The chief or elder would enter first and takes his place at a large wooden bowl that looks like a wok. The other men would then enter and sit around the bowl. Two ladies entered and brought in the kava roots. They proceeded to start stripping the root and commenced chewing it. After a while they removed it from their mouth and put it aside and started chewing some more. When enough of the product was thoroughly chewed they then start mixing this with water in the large bowl. When the water looks pretty muddy they remove the chewed root and place it in a cloth and then continue to strain it, wash it and squeeze it. The water now looks very muddy. The women then, facing the men and shuffling backwards, left the hut. Now, it’s party time I thought. The chief scoops up some of the kava water and sips it. When done he passes the bowl to the next villager. This process goes on until everyone has had two or three bowls. It tastes like muddy water and really makes your tongue and cheeks numb. I recall later that when we were all through we went outside to meet up with the women and the singing and dancing began. That must be some potent stuff as I was talking to a coconut tree for about half an hour. I am sure it was talking back to me.
A 27 year old Whitey
After about two weeks with them I was ready to move on. I walked to the nearest village to buy some supplies to thank Litae and Malokai for their hospitality. They refused my offer of money for my staying with them. They kept telling me I was their guest. I bought a dozen eggs, Spam…they love it! and an assortment of veggies. Sodas for the kids, a bottle of Johnny Walker and 2 more big bottles of beer.
I came back in the afternoon and dropped the supplies off with Litae and then found the boys and had a couple of beers and a bit of ole Johnny. When it was time for dinner I was amazed at the amount of food that was prepared for us. Even more than the previous nights.
It was only during dinner that the story came out about their custom of the man and the guest eat first. What they leave is shared with the wife and kids.. I immediately felt so piggish and embarrassed! I had been eating Litae and the children’s portion of food. Then when I returned with the supplies that afternoon, Litae thought I wasn’t getting enough to eat so she cooked the whole lot up for that dinner!! Oh man! I felt so stupid. A dozen eggs, a can of Spam sliced and fried, all the veggies. I now knew why Malakai ate very slowly and very little. The whole family ate well that night. They took in a stranger and went without while they were proud to have me as a visitor on their island and in their home.
Growing up in Perth and being on construction sites during my apprenticeship showed the little tolerance I had for foreigners. The Italians and Yugoslavs, the Chinese and Indians. I always wished they spoke better English, or would do things ‘the Aussie way’.
My visit with this beautiful family changed my outlook on others. About sharing and giving without a catch. All over the world people are different. We behave differently to them. For the rest of my travels even now I have spent many days with “foreigners” in many countries and now give generously. I learned Spanish while backpacking in Central and South America, Portuguese and a working German so I can communicate better with everyone.
