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Visiting Nukusere Village
Finding Fiji’s Traditional Hospitality
By Rick Millikan
Fiji both pampered my wife Chris and I in stylish luxury
and provided edifying South Seas adventures. Taking the Sonaisali Resort water
taxi to “main land” Viti Levu, we ventured forth to visit a mountain village.
Fijians have long dwelt in settlements up lush river valleys or along coastlines
of Fiji’s three hundred and thirty-three islands. Some of these communities
host guests wishing to discover Fiji’s age-old traditions.
Boarding a bus from Nadi, our tour group rolled through
countless acres of sugar cane, Fiji’s main crop. After Fijian king Cakobau ceded
his island nation to Queen Victoria, the British began building Fiji’s economy
through a new sugar industry. To develop cane production, the Brits encouraged
immigration from southern India. Today Indians comprise nearly half the
population. Most Indians continue as farm workers, but like our bus driver, many
have also found better paying jobs serving tourists. Chiefs often lease own
large tracts of village land to Indian farmers.
Passing through pine forests, our driver pointed out,
“Villages have initiated several forestation projects. The logs will be
harvested for pulp to sell to Japan and China.” Villages appeared as clusters of
palm-constructed bures mingling with the more modern cinder block homes. Young
men played rugby on well-worn fields. One village honoured their top rugger,
plastering his picture across a huge billboard. He was now a renowned
professional in the Australian Rugby League!
Our bus rolled onward through the green countryside. We
passed a turn off to view the spectacular Sigatoka sand dunes. Outside town we
imagined Tavuni Hill fortification looming in the distance. Fiji once carried a
fearsome reputation as the cannibal islands. This fort memorializes an infamous
battle between fierce Fijian resisters and the British army. Now Sigatoka valley
is the “salad bowl of Fiji”, growing an abundance of vegetables. Its large
plantations export papaya and egg plant.
Winding for miles above ocean shores, we ended our road
trip in Navua, a bustling market center for this rice producing area.
Surrounded by colorful shops, we reached a rustic wharf and met our burly guide
Elami. He instructed the group to board three long flat-bottomed punts.
Motors purring, we set out on the wide muddy Navua River.
Along the bank, bamboo rafts languished. Villagers abandoned these bilibilis
after transporting their produce down river to market. Gray herons waded in the
shallows. We encountered several backhoes dredging the channel, perhaps relating
to mining the area’s low-grade copper ore.
Draining much of central Viti Levu, the Navua River’s swift
current eroded a lush canyon. Carefully traversing white water rapids, we
immersed ourselves in exotic scenery. Bamboo groves lined the banks; tropical
forests flourished along the slopes. Numerous waterfalls cascaded down high
walls. Towering orange-blossomed flamboyants intermingled with feathery giant
tree ferns. Standing on a gravel bar, an elderly fisherman waved and proudly
displayed his catch.
Nukusere village lay ten meters above us. Leaving the boat
on a riverbank strewn with large boulders, Elami led us along a dirt path
circling thatched bures with palm-plaited walls. We called out, “Bula! Bula!”
Villagers replied smiling. Chickens ran loose in extensive yards; a beautiful
pink sow suckled a dozen tiny piglets in an open bamboo shelter above the river.
Our group was naturally curious. Chris began chatting with
a widow who lived there with her son’s family. Introducing herself as Vhorina,
she invited Chris into their bure. Removing shoes, they vanished into the home.
Later Chris reported that it was a cozy holiday cabin. Its only room was
spacious, bright and airy. Hand woven mats covered the floor. “Sulus”, vivid
print fabrics, draped the walls. Two canopied beds with handmade quilts stood at
one end, cooking utensils and dishes at the other.
Fishing and farming enabled the one hundred and fifty
residents to remain self-sufficient. Owning land in common, each family plants
individual plots with bananas, papayas, taro, cassava, sweet potatoes and other
vegetables. A powerhouse generates electricity from 6 to 10 pm, yet little
power seemed necessary. Villagers cooked over open fires, hand washed clothes
and bathed in the river.
Gathering at the open-air meetinghouse, the chief addressed
us paying respect to our homelands and giving a hospitable welcome. Elami
presented kava, demonstrating our good intentions. Sitting cross-legged on
woven floor mats, we awaited the kava ceremony. Made from the dried root of the
pepper plant family, this renowned beverage has been used for centuries in Fiji
and reputed for pleasantly numbing the senses. The mixer filled a large carved
bowl with a muddy brown liquid. All of us raised our eyebrows and looked at
each other, wondering. The cupbearer delivered this concoction to each of us in
turn. Receiving the coconut cup, I clapped once, guzzled the unappealing
contents and felt my tongue tingle. The group responded with three customary
claps.
Encouraged to ask questions about village life, we learned
that each village has a hereditary chief, who oversees the welfare of his people
during good times and bad. Elami explained how Nakusere’s chief inherited his
position from four older brothers.
To protect his people, chiefs scrutinize all strangers.
Historic acts of war and cannibalism instilled a lasting distrust; today,
relationships are carefully maintained. When a village girl wants to marry an
outsider, the chief needs to approve the wedding. If the girl elopes to live in
her husband’s settlement, the next morning his chief must send a delegation of
elders to reassure her chief.
Elami talked about how Fijians help one another. “You have
noticed the recent flood damage. The river rose fifteen feet this spring. Now
everyone is pitching in to recover. I’m helping replace their children’s school
books.”
Festivities continued with lunch: baked fish, cassava, taro
in coconut milk, sweet pineapple, and freshly squeezed orange juice. While
savoring our food, village women set up handicraft displays: carved masks and
bowls, shell jewelry, wooden statuettes, and sulu fabrics. Friendly bartering
ensued.
Invited to sit once again, grass-skirted boys entertained
us with Fijian welcome dances. Young men drummed out rhythms and sang haunting
melodies. Asking us to join them, we danced a jolly side-by-side shuffle. As
early missionaries forbade face-to-face dancing, south sea islanders enjoy the
two-step “tralala”. Creating a most pleasant camaraderie, this simple dance
continues to be very popular. Later we formed a line, snake dancing until Elami
gathered us for our return down river.
Fiji’s landscape evoked its fascinating history. Our
journey bestowed insights and revelations. Experiencing village hospitality, we
also discovered the simple joys of life.
Flying to Fiji: Air Pacific
www.airpacific.com
Sweet Suite Accomodations; Sonaisali Resort
www.sonaisali.com
Touring Fiji: Rosie The Travel Service
www.fijifvb.gov.fj or phone 679 722 755
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