sega ni kila

So here I am! Don't really know where to start, so I'll focus on a few areas I've been thinking a lot about since I got here.

My host family is wonderful -- my "mom" Adi Sala, and three boys (ages 12, 14, 16) who are really helping me with the language. There is also a woman who lives there, and am still not entirely sure how she is related to the family, but she does most of the cooking and spends the days weaving floor mats (ibes). My first night was great. At dinner at the house, they asked me what state I was from, and I said "New Mexico." Then they said "Mexico? You have swine flu?" A few minutes later a frog hopped across the kitchen floor (totally normal). Then they handed me a cracker with ants crawling across it and I could only graciously accept, flicking off some of the ants (I've gotten really used to this!). I had cucumbers and lettuce, and they handed me the "tomato sauce" (ketchup) and insisted I use it as a kind of "dressing." Even a few days later this all seems pretty normal. I'm surprised how fast it's taken me to get comfortable here.

Pets don't really exist here. All animals are, for the most part, treated like animals. My host family has "va pussy lailai loaloa" (4 black kittens) but they do not feed them. As my host mother Adi Sala explains, cats can catch their own food (dogs can't, and are thus fed). Certainly the house is free of rats and lizards (unlike many of the other houses in my village). However, the cats still look emaciated and underdeveloped. It is hard to step back and realize this is not my problem to fix. It helps to try to view the cats within the Fijian cultural framework -- after all, people are most important, and certainly Fijians take care of each other very well. It also helps to think of my three overly loved and overly fed cats at home. That's not to say I don't sneak them some fish when no one is looking...

I saw my first pineapple plant! It rises from the center of long sharp spear-like leaves. Actually, it looks like someone just tossed a pineapple into a yucca. There are also many cool plants that grow along the roads through my village -- papaya trees, banana trees, mango trees, casava, taro, coconut trees, chiles, etc etc...

Two nights ago my host mom brought the tailor over to the house and took my measurements for a "jaba" because she knew I was going into the city the next day (a jaba is a two-piece decorative floral dress that all the older ladies wear!). The next morning, she was up at 6am ironing it for me (!). So, I wore it that day into town (the day we meet with our entire group plus all staff, and also the only day we can be more relaxed in what we wear). I was definitely the only one wearing a full-on jaba but I did receive lots of compliments! I was really touched she did that for me.

Running out of time here at the cafe -- I'll try to post more soon.
Sending much love!

where even is fiji?

Like, in the middle of the ocean, right? I guess I'll find out soon enough.

I'm trying to figure out the best medium to share this experience with anyone who wants to keep updated.  And blogging is so hip.  So, I'll try it for awhile, and see how it goes...

At the moment, I'm trying to push all logic and reason out of my head and instead try to focus on the tiniest, most minute details of now.  Like how the sun is hitting the grape vines out the window, leaving little delicate shadows on the ground.  And how I can faintly hear Jim Lehrer echoing around the kitchen.  Because, if I don't, and skip even one second ahead, the enormity of the moment escapes me, and I feel so lost!  

But isn't it comforting to think of life in such microscopic moments?  How each day is just an opportunity for new smells, tastes, sights, sounds, and surfaces to touch? How change is constant, and not something to fear.  How it should be embraced!  Change is new material to digest.  A chance for stretching our little eyes and ears and brains in new directions...