The new way
The old way
Friday, October 3, 2008
levulevu
After laying in bed until 10 am because for some unknown reason I just couldn't make myself get up, I decided that I needed to rearrange my bedroom. Not only because I wanted a change, but also to make space for me to do my “Yoga for Weight Loss” routine. I just picked up the DVD from the post office yesterday, along with a “natural rubber yoga mat,” a “sustainably harvested cork block,” and a “natural hemp strap.” You might be asking yourself, why does she need to lose weight? And if so, why yoga instead of just walking? And if she's going to do yoga, why do it in her small bedroom instead of in the spacious living room of her big house? All good questions, and here are the answers: In the village, I spend the majority of my time in my house or in someone else's house, sitting on the floor. I try not to eat too much, but with no physical activity, I think I've started to gain weight. So why not start walking instead of sitting around? Because as you've seen now from the pictures, I live on tiny little island! Sure, it's not that hard to get to the mainland, but try explaining to my Turaga ni koro that I want to go to the mainland and walk down the road by myself. “Not safe,” he would say, and he'd tell me I'd have to take someone with me. And who would go with me? Not any of the boys, because there would be way too much gossip if any of them were seen alone with me. And what about the women? None of them are interested in any kind of physical activity. So my dad sent me the “Yoga for weight loss” dvd, but why do I have to do yoga in the bedroom? Because in the bedroom I can close all the windows and nobody will see me. If I do it in the living room, people will see me through the door, which stays open all day because it's rude to close your door cause it means you don't want people to visit (not that they would visit because most are still afraid to come into my house). Why don't I want anyone to see me? Because nobody does yoga in the village! I would get so many questions, everyone would talk about it. And in the village, gaining weight isn't seen as a bad thing. People tell me all the time “Sai, o iko levulevu,” which means “Monica, your getting fat.” That's not an insult here. It would actually be an insult if I was losing weight because it would mean that they're not feeding me enough. It's one of those hospitality things. So here I am, rearranging the furniture in my bedroom so that I can secretly do yoga and lose weight. I actually really like the new arrangement:
The old way
The old way
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
a tour of my village
yup, that's my village out there on that island
sunset over the mainland
the view from the top of the hill
same hill
rugby team practicing at low tide
yeah, it's always that windy
my kitchen
my house, way too big for just one person!
sunset over the mainland
tide going out
our community hall
our church (yes, I go every Sunday), and the Pastor's house
Werelevu (big house) - the Chief's house
This is where we have village meetings, and where you go if you want to see the chief. He and his family live in the house to the right. This is also where we get our drinking water. That pipe to the left leads from the roof of werelevu to a cement water tank where we fill up our bottles
Some houses along the seawall.
the view down the footpath through the middle of the village
my neighbor's laundry
nap time
fijian lesson
This is something i wrote about a week ago but couldn't post until now:
It's time for a short lesson on traditional Fijian village structure. Hopefully this will help you to better understand what it's like for me to live here since my village is more traditional than some. If this isn't interesting to you, I won't be offended if you don't read it.
It's time for a short lesson on traditional Fijian village structure. Hopefully this will help you to better understand what it's like for me to live here since my village is more traditional than some. If this isn't interesting to you, I won't be offended if you don't read it.
The country of Fiji is divided into 12 provinces (Yasana). These could could be compared to states in the U.S. Each province is divided into districts (Tikina), which would be like our counties. Then there are any number of villages (koro) in each district. Each village has a chief. One village in each district is a chiefly village so that the chief of that particular village is also the chief of the district. Then each province has a chiefly village where the chief of that village is the chief of the his/her district and chief of the whole province. The position of chief is inherited and he/she has the last say in all decisions made in the village.
Also an inherited position is the mata ni vanua or the chief's spokesman. He's the connection between the chief and the people. He can speak directly to the chief, and during ceremonies he speaks for the chief and accepts offerings (sevusevu) made to him.
Another important person in the village is the Turaga ni koro. He is sometimes elected and sometimes chosen by the chief depending on the village. He's like the village mayor. While the chief is the traditional leader of the village, the Turaga ni koro is more like a political leader. He's the connection between the village and the government. He goes to district and provincial council meetings and all projects in the village must be approved by him.
Then there are the elders who advise the chief and the Turaga ni koro. They're the ones that do most of the talking at village meetings.
There could be anywhere from 50 to 1000 people living in a single village. They say the people of a village are all descendants of a common ancestor who was one of the original Melanesian colonizers of the islands maybe 3000 years ago. The people of each village are divided into clans called mataqali. You inherit your father's mataqali and when women marry, they join their husbands mataqali. What's interesting about Fiji is that the mataqali is the land-owning unit, not the individual. 83% of the land in Fiji is still owned by mataqali (compare that with how much land in the U.S. is still owned by Native Americans). This land can never be bought or sold but it can be leased. So most of the resorts and hotels in Fiji don't own the land they're on, they pay rent to the mataqali that owns the land. For many families this rent is a significant source of income.
I hope all of this is somewhat interesting. Now I can better explain my village. My village has about 130 people and 4 mataqali. I've been adopted by the chief's mataqali which is called Raralevu. My village is a chiefly village. So my chief is the chief of this village, this district, and this province. His title is Vunivalu which means war chief. The Turaga ni koro is my counterpart, so he's the person I'm supposed to be working closely with on any projects I do in the village.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Integrating
I've been in my village for three weeks now and I'm going to try to write about everything that's happened. I started with the last day of our training. Early in the morning we packed our things and had to say goodbye to our host village. It was very emotional as we loaded our things onto the truck. Almost the whole village came to say goodbye to us and there was a lot of crying by the women and the men. I never expected it to be so difficult to leave, but I had made a lot of friends. After that they took us to Suva where we had one afternoon and $400 to buy everything we would need for our new houses. After such an emotional morning it was really hard to focus on stoves and pots when all I wanted to do was go back to my village. The next morning we went to our swearing in ceremony where all 32 of us Fre-6(that's what this years group is called, since we're the sixth group since the peace corps came back to fiji) trainees swore in and became official Peace Corps Volunteers (until this point we were only "trainees"). Then we were packed onto a bus with all of our things to be driven to our new villages. There was another emotional goodbye as all of us volunteers who had been together for two months had to say goodbye and go our seperate ways.
The bus dropped me off in Navua, a town near the island where I was supposed to be picked up by someone from the village. But when I called him, he said he couldn't come that day and that he'd come the next day. So I spent the night with Sarah, a volunteer in Navua. The next day I waited for him to come, but he never did and didn't answer his phone. Since this kind of thing isn't that unusual for Fiji, I tried not to worry. But when the next day came and I waited all morning, I couldn't help feeling like maybe they didn't want me anymore. He finally came in the afternoon, he said he lost his phone. So this was the beginning of my two years in the village and it didn't seem to going very. The first few days were very hard. I really missed Naimalavau, and the people in my new village weren't talking to me very much. I would spend all day sitting in my house by myself. In my training village, when if I walked around everyone would greet me and invite into their house to drink tea. But in my new village everyone was very shy. Nobody invited me over. At night they'd invite me to drink yaqona, but even when I'd be sitting in a room full of people, nobody would talk to me. I felt so lonely and really just wanted to go back to Naimalavau. And I got sick, which made me feel even worse.
So that's how it started. Things have slowly been getting better and I've found out some of the reasons why eveyone was acting that way. First of all they speak a different dialect than the one I had learned. So in the beginning all of my conversations with people had to be in English. Well a lot of people don't speak English very well. Also, in Fiji, being able to speak English well is a sign of being well educated, and I was told that a lot of people in my village were ashamed to talk to me because they weren't as educated as I am. Also I think people are maybe ashamed to invite me into their houses because they think they're not nice enough for a white person. Another issue is my own house. The house I'm staying belongs to the chiefs family, so before everyone in the village had to respect that house and the people in it, so most people never go in that house. In Fiji, you show your respect for someone by not talking to them, or only talking to them very formally. For example, traditionally in Fijian culture, brothers and sisters are supposed to respect each other, meaning that they don't talk directly to each other. If they have to sit in the same room, they'll sit as far away from each other as possible. So people were showing there respect for me and house by not coming over and talking to me. Another issue is the village gossip. Us volunteers refer to it as the "coconut wireless." In Fijian villages, people seem to spend the majority of their time talking about everyone else. Anywhere I go, anything I say or do is quickly known by the whole village. This has been a problem for me and the youth. The word "youth" in Fiji is different than in the US. A youth is someone who isn't married yet. So someone can be 40 years old and still be considered a youth. In my village almost all of the youth are men. Most of the young women from the island either get married and move to their husband's village, or they move to the mainland to get a job or go to school. This means that all the people my age in the village are men. And because of the coconut wireless, if any of them are seen talking to me, especially if we're alone talking, the whole village will find out and the rumors will start spreading. So most of them are afraid to be seen coming to my house.
In Fijian culture, while brothers and sisters respect each other and don't talk, cousins and cousin-brothers are required to tease each other and they're constantly joking around making fun of eachother. For me it means that if one of the boys tries to talk to me and his English messes up a word or something, his cousins and brothers will make fun of him. So even the boys that do speak English are afraid to talk to me in front of the other boys.
So these are the challenges I've been facing as I try to integrate into my new community. Things have slowly been getting better. More and more people are starting to talk to me and few people have even come to visit me at my house. What I really want are friends in the village, people I can talk to when I'm lonely. The women are always very talkative and I really like the women in my village, but they're all older than me and sometimes I want to be able to talk with people my age. Things are getting much better with the boys my age, but the coconut wireless is always going to be a challenge. Sometimes girls from the island that have moved away come back to visit on weekends and holidays and I get so excited to talk to another woman my age. And I'm always more comfortable with the boys and them with me when there's another woman around too.
So that's how things have been going in my village. I haven't started any projects yet. The peace corps recomends that spen the first 3-4 months just integrating: learning the dialect, getting to know everyone, identifying the leaders in community and the people that seem the most motivated to get things done. I think it's a really good idea to wait before starting projects, but sometimes it's hard to explain to people. In the past, there've been foreigners that have come to the village to work on projects. Usually they come with a lot of money, do their project, and then leave. That's what the village is used to, white people come and do things for them. That's not the Peace Corps' approach. The Peace Corps is about integrating into the community and helping them help themselves. So my challenge right now is to show them that I'm not like all the other white people they've met and try to become a part of the community.
The bus dropped me off in Navua, a town near the island where I was supposed to be picked up by someone from the village. But when I called him, he said he couldn't come that day and that he'd come the next day. So I spent the night with Sarah, a volunteer in Navua. The next day I waited for him to come, but he never did and didn't answer his phone. Since this kind of thing isn't that unusual for Fiji, I tried not to worry. But when the next day came and I waited all morning, I couldn't help feeling like maybe they didn't want me anymore. He finally came in the afternoon, he said he lost his phone. So this was the beginning of my two years in the village and it didn't seem to going very. The first few days were very hard. I really missed Naimalavau, and the people in my new village weren't talking to me very much. I would spend all day sitting in my house by myself. In my training village, when if I walked around everyone would greet me and invite into their house to drink tea. But in my new village everyone was very shy. Nobody invited me over. At night they'd invite me to drink yaqona, but even when I'd be sitting in a room full of people, nobody would talk to me. I felt so lonely and really just wanted to go back to Naimalavau. And I got sick, which made me feel even worse.
So that's how it started. Things have slowly been getting better and I've found out some of the reasons why eveyone was acting that way. First of all they speak a different dialect than the one I had learned. So in the beginning all of my conversations with people had to be in English. Well a lot of people don't speak English very well. Also, in Fiji, being able to speak English well is a sign of being well educated, and I was told that a lot of people in my village were ashamed to talk to me because they weren't as educated as I am. Also I think people are maybe ashamed to invite me into their houses because they think they're not nice enough for a white person. Another issue is my own house. The house I'm staying belongs to the chiefs family, so before everyone in the village had to respect that house and the people in it, so most people never go in that house. In Fiji, you show your respect for someone by not talking to them, or only talking to them very formally. For example, traditionally in Fijian culture, brothers and sisters are supposed to respect each other, meaning that they don't talk directly to each other. If they have to sit in the same room, they'll sit as far away from each other as possible. So people were showing there respect for me and house by not coming over and talking to me. Another issue is the village gossip. Us volunteers refer to it as the "coconut wireless." In Fijian villages, people seem to spend the majority of their time talking about everyone else. Anywhere I go, anything I say or do is quickly known by the whole village. This has been a problem for me and the youth. The word "youth" in Fiji is different than in the US. A youth is someone who isn't married yet. So someone can be 40 years old and still be considered a youth. In my village almost all of the youth are men. Most of the young women from the island either get married and move to their husband's village, or they move to the mainland to get a job or go to school. This means that all the people my age in the village are men. And because of the coconut wireless, if any of them are seen talking to me, especially if we're alone talking, the whole village will find out and the rumors will start spreading. So most of them are afraid to be seen coming to my house.
In Fijian culture, while brothers and sisters respect each other and don't talk, cousins and cousin-brothers are required to tease each other and they're constantly joking around making fun of eachother. For me it means that if one of the boys tries to talk to me and his English messes up a word or something, his cousins and brothers will make fun of him. So even the boys that do speak English are afraid to talk to me in front of the other boys.
So these are the challenges I've been facing as I try to integrate into my new community. Things have slowly been getting better. More and more people are starting to talk to me and few people have even come to visit me at my house. What I really want are friends in the village, people I can talk to when I'm lonely. The women are always very talkative and I really like the women in my village, but they're all older than me and sometimes I want to be able to talk with people my age. Things are getting much better with the boys my age, but the coconut wireless is always going to be a challenge. Sometimes girls from the island that have moved away come back to visit on weekends and holidays and I get so excited to talk to another woman my age. And I'm always more comfortable with the boys and them with me when there's another woman around too.
So that's how things have been going in my village. I haven't started any projects yet. The peace corps recomends that spen the first 3-4 months just integrating: learning the dialect, getting to know everyone, identifying the leaders in community and the people that seem the most motivated to get things done. I think it's a really good idea to wait before starting projects, but sometimes it's hard to explain to people. In the past, there've been foreigners that have come to the village to work on projects. Usually they come with a lot of money, do their project, and then leave. That's what the village is used to, white people come and do things for them. That's not the Peace Corps' approach. The Peace Corps is about integrating into the community and helping them help themselves. So my challenge right now is to show them that I'm not like all the other white people they've met and try to become a part of the community.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
New Address
My new mailing address is:
Monica Papp
P.O. Box 490
Pacific Harbor, Fiji
I'm leaving my training village tomorrow and I'll be at my new site on Thursday. I'll be even further from an internet cafe there so I might not be able to write as often.
Monica Papp
P.O. Box 490
Pacific Harbor, Fiji
I'm leaving my training village tomorrow and I'll be at my new site on Thursday. I'll be even further from an internet cafe there so I might not be able to write as often.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Serua Island
I've just returned from my sight visit. I'll be spending my next two years on Serua Island. The island is very small, only about 30 houses, and almost everyone fishes for a living. It's a chiefly island so the chief of the village is also the chief of Serua Province. Since there're only 14 provinces in Fiji, he's a pretty high ranked chief. It's very different from my training village where the chief is a woman and she's one of the poorest people in the village. In Serua, the chief and his family are very well off for Fiji standards. They even have a car that they keep on the mainland. The village is more traditional than my training village so I'm going to have to get used to that.
My counterpart is the person that I'm supposed to be working closely with on any projects that I do, but he doesn't really talk to me much and I'm not sure why. Luckily I met some other people in the village that are very excited to have me there and seem very motivated to get some projects going. I'm not sure yet what I'm going to be working on. I was supposed to meet with the NGO that has been working with the village, but the meeting never happened. There's a women's group and a youth group that I'm hoping to get involved with. I also visited the school on the mainland that the kids go to and they're very excited to have me work with them.
The Peace Corps tells us that for the first three or four months we should just focus on integrating into the community and try to sit in on as many meetings as possible. They speak a different dialect than the one I've been learning, so my first task will be to learn the language. Luckily it's not too different than Bauan.
I have my own house on the island and it's way too big for just one person. The owners now live in the capital and they said I could stay there for the two years of my service. It's already furnished, but I'm gonna have to buy a stove and a few other things for the kitchen.
Oh yeah and they changed my name. I'm now Saivora, named after the chief's wife. In Fiji, if someone is named after you, it makes you kind of like a godparent and your supposed to give your namesake gifts and treats.
Another interesting thing about the village is that since it's a small island, a lot of people have moved to the mainland. Either because there's no more room on the island to build houses or to be closer to jobs and schools. Some of the people from the island now live together in a settlement nearby on the mainland so it's kind of like the village is split in two. Most of the younger women move the settlement because there's no work for them on the island and so their kids can get to school more easily. The young men can stay on the island and fish until they get married. Then they have to decide if they want to bring their wife to the island or move to the mainland. In Fiji, if you ask someone where their from, even if they live in the capital, they'll tell you the name of their father's village, even if they've never lived there themselves. Most people go back to their villages for holidays, weddings, and funerals. In Serua, some people from the settlement come back to the island every weekend. So family and the village are very important to the people here in Fiji. People are very surprised when I tell them about my family in the U.S. and how we all live in different places.
I really enjoyed my visit to the Serua, but it felt really good to come back to Naimalavau yesterday. I actually found that I missed the village and the people and I was only gone for 6 days. It's going to be hard when we have to leave for good next week. Me and the other trainees are already talking about going back for Christmas.
So has anyone figured out yet how to call me from the U.S? I have gotten any calls or messages. My service provider is Vodafone and they say that to call you just have to dial the country code (679) and then my number, but I haven't gotten any calls. Text messages might be different. It only costs me 20 cents to text the US so it'd be a nice way to stay in contact with each other. Let me know if anyone figures it out.
Moce mada
My counterpart is the person that I'm supposed to be working closely with on any projects that I do, but he doesn't really talk to me much and I'm not sure why. Luckily I met some other people in the village that are very excited to have me there and seem very motivated to get some projects going. I'm not sure yet what I'm going to be working on. I was supposed to meet with the NGO that has been working with the village, but the meeting never happened. There's a women's group and a youth group that I'm hoping to get involved with. I also visited the school on the mainland that the kids go to and they're very excited to have me work with them.
The Peace Corps tells us that for the first three or four months we should just focus on integrating into the community and try to sit in on as many meetings as possible. They speak a different dialect than the one I've been learning, so my first task will be to learn the language. Luckily it's not too different than Bauan.
I have my own house on the island and it's way too big for just one person. The owners now live in the capital and they said I could stay there for the two years of my service. It's already furnished, but I'm gonna have to buy a stove and a few other things for the kitchen.
Oh yeah and they changed my name. I'm now Saivora, named after the chief's wife. In Fiji, if someone is named after you, it makes you kind of like a godparent and your supposed to give your namesake gifts and treats.
Another interesting thing about the village is that since it's a small island, a lot of people have moved to the mainland. Either because there's no more room on the island to build houses or to be closer to jobs and schools. Some of the people from the island now live together in a settlement nearby on the mainland so it's kind of like the village is split in two. Most of the younger women move the settlement because there's no work for them on the island and so their kids can get to school more easily. The young men can stay on the island and fish until they get married. Then they have to decide if they want to bring their wife to the island or move to the mainland. In Fiji, if you ask someone where their from, even if they live in the capital, they'll tell you the name of their father's village, even if they've never lived there themselves. Most people go back to their villages for holidays, weddings, and funerals. In Serua, some people from the settlement come back to the island every weekend. So family and the village are very important to the people here in Fiji. People are very surprised when I tell them about my family in the U.S. and how we all live in different places.
I really enjoyed my visit to the Serua, but it felt really good to come back to Naimalavau yesterday. I actually found that I missed the village and the people and I was only gone for 6 days. It's going to be hard when we have to leave for good next week. Me and the other trainees are already talking about going back for Christmas.
So has anyone figured out yet how to call me from the U.S? I have gotten any calls or messages. My service provider is Vodafone and they say that to call you just have to dial the country code (679) and then my number, but I haven't gotten any calls. Text messages might be different. It only costs me 20 cents to text the US so it'd be a nice way to stay in contact with each other. Let me know if anyone figures it out.
Moce mada
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Site Announcement
Yesterday was what people here in Fiji call "America Day" (4th of July) and it was also the day of our site announcement. They made a big map of Fiji out of rope on the ground and called our names one by one and walked us to our site. All of our host families cried as they called out our names. They're going to miss us and even though my host family can be very challenging at times, I'm definately going to miss my village. I can only hope that my new village will be as cool as Naimalavau. I've also gotten pretty close to the other trainees in my village and soon we'll have to move far away from each other. They're my best friends here so I hope that we'll be able to visit eachother after we move to our sites. I'll also miss all of our Fijian training staff and hopefully we'll be able to hang out sometimes after training is over.
So here's what I've been waiting for! I've been assigned to Serua Island. We're all leaving tomorrow to go visit our sites so I'll have more to say about it when I get back next weekend. What I know so far is that it's a small island off the southern coast of Viti Levu (the main island that I'm on now) near the town of Navua if you're trying to find it on a map. There's only one village on the island and there're about 250 people. The island is close enough to the mainland that you can walk to it at low tide. It has 24/7 electricity and running water. There's supposedly a house there ready for me. My assignment is pretty vague and we've all been told that most people don't actually do what there assignment said. I do know that there's an environmental NGO already working with my island and I'm supposed to have a meeting with them on Tuesday. It's a chiefly island so the chief of my village is also the chief of the province I think. Everyone says that it's beautiful and I can't wait to go see it. My counterpart is the Turaga ni Koro (the village spokesman) and I'll meet him tomorrow and we'll go together to the island. I'll be back in my training village on Friday. Then we have two more weeks of training before we move to our sites. I'll try to get on the internet next weekend to tell you more about my site.
So here's what I've been waiting for! I've been assigned to Serua Island. We're all leaving tomorrow to go visit our sites so I'll have more to say about it when I get back next weekend. What I know so far is that it's a small island off the southern coast of Viti Levu (the main island that I'm on now) near the town of Navua if you're trying to find it on a map. There's only one village on the island and there're about 250 people. The island is close enough to the mainland that you can walk to it at low tide. It has 24/7 electricity and running water. There's supposedly a house there ready for me. My assignment is pretty vague and we've all been told that most people don't actually do what there assignment said. I do know that there's an environmental NGO already working with my island and I'm supposed to have a meeting with them on Tuesday. It's a chiefly island so the chief of my village is also the chief of the province I think. Everyone says that it's beautiful and I can't wait to go see it. My counterpart is the Turaga ni Koro (the village spokesman) and I'll meet him tomorrow and we'll go together to the island. I'll be back in my training village on Friday. Then we have two more weeks of training before we move to our sites. I'll try to get on the internet next weekend to tell you more about my site.
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