Random Stories

Man, we are really bad about posting. I'm in the Peace Corps Office right now so I guess I can make this a long post. A few funny things have happened this past month. None of them really have anything to do with each other, hence the title "Random Stories".

1) Vinaka Dadakulaci

So I finally went fishing at our new village. I went out all night with two other guys: Gavota and Jeremia. We motored just a couple of kilometers or so offshore, into Viti Levu bay, and dropped anchor. The last time I had been night fishing we had gone out much farther offshore. We started off fishing for salala or striped mackrel, a fairly common fish that isn't worth very much in the market but makes good bait. Once we had a few of these guys we baited the bigger hooks and waited for the big guys to bite. While I was still struggling to set my hook on time and getting my bait stolen constantly, Gavota had hauled in two massive Walu or spanish mackrel. These are some of the most sought after fish in Fiji. They have lots of meat and taste great. He had to bear hug one of them to prevent it from flopping around the boat and biting us, and jammed a knife into its brain. By about 10pm that night I had caught a good number of salala, saqa (trevally), silasila (barracuda), and qitawa (cresent banded grunter). At this point I would have been happy to head back to shore, shower off and get a good night's sleep. This is, of course, not how things are done in Fiji. Night fishing means all night. We didn't return to shore until about 7am the next day. By about 2am I was really struggling to stay awake. As my bait fell to the water I would start to doze off, only to be awakened by a fish tugging at my line. The burst of adrenelin caused by having a fish on my line would wake me up and I would pull it into the boat and repeat the process. After a while I started to realize how truly disgusting fishing can be. When you see pictures of guys on boats holding massive fish it certainly looks appealing. But the one thing you miss out on with the pictures is the smell. Fishing boats reek. By this time of night the boat was drenched in fish blood. Luckily it was a cool night otherwise the stench would have been horrendous. Towards 3 or 4am the fishing started to slow. At this time we noticed a black banded sea snake swimming towards the boat. These snakes are one of the few things Fijians do not eat. In fact, they respect them and have all sorts of superstitions about them. " Oh this is a good sign." said Jeremia "Seeing a dadakulaci like this means we'll catch lots of fish." From that point on, both Gavota and Jeremia were offering prayers to the snake to deliver us lots of fish. Sure enough, we started catching some saqa. With each fish caught, Jeremia would proclaim, " Vinaka, Dadakulaci! Vinaka na ika!" (Thank you black banded sea snake! Thank you for the fish!) Eventually the catch slowed again, but Jeremia still persisted in pleading with the snake to send us more fish: " Kerekere, Dadakulaci. Dua na Walu!" At some point Gavota let out a righteous fart to which Jeremia responded " Vinaka Dadakulaci! Vinaka na cagi!" (Thank you black banded sea snake! Thank you for the wind!)
Fijians love inside jokes, so every time Jeremia sees me he shouts, " Hey, bula Dadakulaci!" It never gets old.

2) Goosebumps

Leslie and I are doing some work with a nearby primary school. The school has a library which is in total disarray, so we volunteer once a week to help organize it. We are trying to create a system so that kids can actually check out books and take them home. I was at the school one particular wednesday, with a couple of Fijian kids helping me organize books. One of the kids, a boy also named Choney (my yaca), was alphabetizing books and came up to me with a look of terror in his eyes. He showed me the inside cover of a Goosebumps book. Inside was a warning that said "Warning: Do not under any circumstances read this book from front to back. Doing so will produce extreme terror..." or something like that. This warning, of course, is a joke merely meant to entice kids to read the entire book by giving them the idea that they are doing something dangerous or illicit. To Fijian kids, who have the utmost respect for authority, the warning label is truly terrifying. I explained the joke to the kid, but he still seemed eager to get the cursed book out of his hands as soon as possible.

3) A Ghost Story

An old man died in our village last week. We had the funeral on Saturday. On Monday Leslie and I were trying to sleep but the freaking dogs would not shut up. They were howling away like crazy that night. The best thing anyone could do for Fiji is to exterminate all the dogs. They are a horrible nuisance. Any visitor to Fiji who stays in a village or settlement will not get a minute's sleep because of these repulsive creatures. So anyway, I couldn't sleep so I grabbed my machete and headed outside to chase them away. I wasn't really planning on killing them, I just wanted to throw my machete at them. That scares them more than throwing rocks. Since it was the middle of the night I didn't feel any need to put on pants. I managed to scare away a few of them, running around in my underwear, throwing my machete at them. I noticed a few flashlights moving around. Some other people were also chasing away the dogs. When they approached me I recognized them as some of the village youth. They asked me what I was doing. I said I was trying to scare away the dogs because they were making so much noise. Marika, one of the guys whispered to me, " The dogs are barking so much because of the death last week." I remembered then that Fijians have all sorts of superstitions about ghosts and figured out that the villagers were probably attributing the dog's behavior to the presence of ghosts. " Have you been to the burial site?" he asked me. " Yeah, I was there during the funeral." " The youth are standing watch there right now." he said, " Come, we go now." Really, I thought, do we really have to go right now? Can't I put on some pants first? Something about his tone told me it would be best not to argue and to just go with him. When we got to the burial site I saw virtually every male youth from the village solemly sitting next to the grave, with a bonfire going. There was a bowl of kava on the mat beside them but nobody was drinking it. When they saw me several of them stood up and folded their arms. I glanced down at myself. There I was in my boxers with a machete in my hands. I felt ridiculous. Marika explained that I was out that night because I was trying to scare the dogs away. The guys seemed satisfied with this explanation and sat back down. On the way back Marika explained to me that when a person in a village dies the young men of that village will keep watch over the grave for five nights to make sure that no evil spirits steal the person's soul. Marika's concern, evidently, was that the ghosts would either harm me or that I would be mistaken for a ghost- running around in my underpants waving a machete around. As I went back into our house where Leslie was sleeping Marika told me, " If the dogs bark again, don't leave your house. Wait until tomorrow morning when they are sleeping and then kill them."