Fixin' Leaks and Leeks

Mini Fiji, which consists of a hot tub near the Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks Headquarters—and a bunch of tropical flowers—is nice, but it naturally falls short of the actual Fiji Islands. For instance, it’s missing fruit bats and soooo many more coconuts and stingrays and such. So we time-traveled two days and five hours, to the real Fiji Islands, where my phone didn’t work anywhere, anytime for twelve days—and I didn’t care.

Nate, head chief of our Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks Team, was a Peace Corps volunteer in the Fiji Islands thirty years ago, so this trip was his homecoming. He introduced me and Alex to some of the customs and languages of the islands and led us on a visit to the secondary school where he taught math and accounting.

I thought leaving Ohio to go live where the Puget Sound lives was pretty cool, but getting smacked in the face with the bluest of waters and soaking up actual rays of sun that weren’t filtered by heavy clouds and a feeling of angst, is just well, the bees knees, which really doesn’t do this description any justice. In any case, I’ll do my best to re-create the things we did, ate, and saw, but I really recommend that you not live vicariously through the following regurgitation of memories.  There’s so much more to Fiji.

Let the Wildlife Come to You

The snorkel struggle bus hit me hard. The concept of snorkeling seems easy enough, and when I finally did get my mask to work for about five minutes, I was absolutely stunned by the welcoming committee of strange fish in all kinds of colors, sticking their faces near my mask. They’re close swimmers. All of them. I could have used some distance. But then, the mask fell off, my snorkel filled with sea water, and I was up to my gills in salt water. Foolishly, I tried to tread water and empty my mask of water, which led to a massive foot scraping on the coral, which required (gasp!) one Band-Aid. I was done.

Here’s the scary part: Nate was trying to help me, and then he screamed, “Something is biting me!” He thrashed about, and I was convinced a shark had him, so I did what people do in the movies. I grabbed his arm and yelled, “LIVE, DAMN IT!” and started pulling him to shore, but it turns out that Nate hates having his arm pulled while something bites him. He emerged from the water, on his own, and learned from the resort staff that some kind of “cleaning fish” decided to clean his toes. The bite mark was a perfect circle, which eventually faded after about seven days.

Meanwhile, Alex was fine—swimming way out near the buoys, discovering reef sharks. At one point, I saw this undulating, dolphin-like thing out of my peripheral vision—and it had yellow fins—and it was kind of big and scary—and then I realized, “Oh! It’s an Alex.”

In any case, I left the snorkeling to Nate and Alex, and I discovered a frightfully fun fruit bat one morning and a sea snake on my own. It crawled onto the land, as sea snakes are wont to do, to digest their food. They’re very pretty, but dangerous, and typically I scream when I see snakes of any kind—even if I’m just browsing the internet. But this time, I held my breath and took a picture, and fancied myself a badass.

Sixteen Courses?!!!!

It takes guts, training, determination, and willpower to survive the meal plans at the resorts where we stayed. The food was delicious, but there were sooo many courses! I’m not used to eating so much in one sitting, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. Since I was without my phone most of the time, I didn’t take any pictures, which is criminal of me, I know. What self-respecting DIY “lifestyle” writer/blogger doesn’t take any pictures or Instagram videos of the food she’s eating? This gal. That’s who. So I’ll do my best to re-create the omakase meal we had at the Japanese restaurant at Paradise Cove. Meanwhile, here’s this awesome picture Alex drew of a bunch of food we ate:

For lunch that day, we had a very tasty three courses, which stayed with us, so when dinner rolled around, I told Nate to hold on to his sea grapes because dinner might be ten courses. He sighed and mentally prepared himself for ten courses. We both did.

But when we got to the counter, where the chefs were preparing the food, the chef told us, “Tonight’s meal consists of sixteen courses.”

Oh, the look on Nate’s face. Oh, the way he shouted, “SIXTEEN COURSES??!!!”

But each course only consisted of one tiny plate, which was filling, but didn’t send us over the edge. Again, I wish I had a picture, but I’ll try, with words, to create a thorough and accurate description:

Dish one: oyster shot: spicy, sweet and extra yummy

Dish two: crunchy nori crisp with tuna and a bit of caviar—super extra yummy

Dish three: uni noodles—tasted like a deconstructed miso soup—incredibly super extra yummy

Dish four: pumpkin soup—the best I’ve ever had—made with real coconut milk

Dish five: sashimi—delightful—I saw the kitchen staff zest the fish for a long, long time with lime zest, and it was amazing

Dish six: some kind of fried eggplant dish—couldn’t recreate it if I tried—super extra yummy

Dish seven: some kind of crab salad—on the sweet side, very good

Dish eight: scallop in chili oil—so incredibly face-slapping yummy

Dish nine: some kind of lemon-glazed Hamachi seared with a blow-torch—I could really taste the lemon

Dish ten: tuna nigiri—very fresh—it slapped me

Dish eleven: some kind of fish in some kind of teriyaki-style sauce—extra yummy

Dish twelve: some kind of savory lemon custard (served warm) with bits of cooked fish in it—I liked the custard part.

Dish thirteen: something with crisped rice on it—it was good, but I was starting to lose focus.

Dish fourteen: nori waffle with ricotta and green sea grapes—what a dish! Wow!

Dish fifteen: some kind of umami mousse dessert with caramel sauce—sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night screaming for it

Dish sixteen: some kind of chocolate “taco” with matcha cream mousse—If I were a fruit bat, I’d never throw this at someone’s house. I’d eat it immediately.

Fun fact about fruit bats: we had a colony of them living in the tree outside one of the resorts we stayed at. They threw fruit at our villa at night. People complained about them in the resort reviews, but I’ll give them five coconuts for entertaining me.

Kava Time! Kava Time!

There are rules. Lots of rules to follow if you visit a Fijian village. Fortunately, Nate knew some of the rules—and enough of the language to make friends with the resort Fijian ambassadors to the villages we visited. In fact, Nate was named acting visiting chief for one village and was asked to say a few words, while Alex and I danced the Meke. Someone from the village filmed the whole thing. I have never seen the video footage, but I’m sure it brings many days and nights of laughter to all who keep it on replay.

Nate also presented a sevu sevu (official offering) of kava (the yaqona root, crushed and mixed with water), which we enjoyed with various members of the staff who took care of us at the resorts.

Here’s what I remember from Nate for formal kava/yaqona ceremonies:

–Men should wear the traditional sulu vaka taga, which Nate and Alex did—along with colorful bula shirts.

–You should say “ni sa bula” as a formal greeting if talking to a chief.

–When seated on the floor in a circle, keep your feet pointed away from the tanoa, which is the large wooden bowl for mixing and serving the kava.

–When you drink kava from the bilo (coconut shell), you’re supposed to clap once, drink the entire thing in one sitting, pass it back, and clap three times.

–Don’t want anymore kava? Just say, “sega, vinaka”—no thank you.

–Never stick your crotch in a chief’s face. This seems like a no-brainer, but it’s harder than it sounds. Everyone has to sit on the floor, so if you get up and move around, you’ll end up exposing your crotchular area to anyone seated around you. It is suggested you at least say “tulo” (excuse me) if that ever happens.

Nate’s Homecoming to Nukuloa College

Up near the mountains we traveled on the last full day of our visit to see the secondary school where Nate taught in the Peace Corps. We went without an itinerary—without any idea if Nate would even meet any of his colleagues or see any of the families he knew. Our first stop was Bobby Schwarma’s grocery store. He was the guy who sold Nate beer on Fridays, and his store was still there. The man running the cash register said Bobby had another store in Ba, which wasn’t far away, and he was working there that day, and we could backtrack to find it. This was great news! In the meantime, we visited the school—and caused quite a stir. No one was expecting us, of course, and I don’t get the impression they get too many visitors from the United States. The vice principal was lovely and threw together a reception for us. She didn’t know Nate, but she found one teacher who remembered him, and we couldn’t have asked for anything more. Most of the other teachers Nate knew from that school had either died or moved to New Zealand.

Back in Ba, we caught up with Bobby Schwarma—and I was sure to snap a photo of him with Nate.

Cry, Cry, Cry

 There are beautiful islands in many different places, but Fiji is different because of the people, and if you get to know a few people, even if it’s just over the course of a few days, you will always remember them and miss them. Every time we left a place, people sang to us the “Isa Lei” song, which is a goodbye, and it is super hard not to cry. In fact, it’s okay if you do. They cry too.

Nate has a tanoa, which is a traditional yagona wooden bowl and a couple of bilos. He also bought a small amount of crushed good kava. Whenever we’re feeling a little like we miss Fiji, we’ll just pour one out for them—and the fruit bats—and the little cleaner fish and sea snakes.

Bula!

Your Turn: Did you take any trips this year? Are you planning any trips?