It was with some trepidation, I admit, that I led a motley bunch of international visitors – men first, followed by women- into the function room of the Koroua village, Fiji. Our travel guide had selected me, the oldest male in the group, as the chief of the visiting party! I had an important task to perform, to greet the village chief and as a gesture of respect offer him Kava.
We had cruised upstream on a jetboat on the longest Fijian river, Sigatoka, for this trip. The captain clipped at some seventy kilometers per hour (I checked with him later) and performed a few dizzying 360 degrees turns en route causing the entire group to shriek – initially in terror and then with delight. Village lads welcomed us on the riverbank and off we marched to the village. No headwear is permitted in the village. Caps and hats were taken off. Women covered their legs with sulus– sarongs- handed out by the tour guide.
The welcoming party of the villagers – men and women- was already seated on mats in the room. We sat across from them cross-legged so that our feet were not pointed towards them. I offered the gift of kava to the chief who handed it over to someone. The Chief spoke – in Fijian- sitting up on his knees with his arms folded back with the others intoning in deep voices and clapping rhythmically. Ground kava root was mixed with water in a conical basin standing centre stage. The resulting mix was filtered through a cloth, the residue discarded and our drink was now ready for consumption. Kava was offered to me first- in a dried half coconut shell. I had already been coached on the kava drinking etiquette. Stand up, say bula (hello), clap once, receive the bowl, drink in one gulp, clap thrice and say vinaka (thank you). The same bowl was dipped into the kava basin and offered to the chief. Thereafter all the men got their share, followed by women.
Kava (called yaqona in Fijian)is the dried root of kava plant. The drink is muddy in colour, and, well, tastes like ditch water. However, I am told, this is an acquired taste. It is a narcotic and anaesthetic. I did not have enough quantity to vouch for this! Kava has a strong social and cultural significance which is not to be trifled with.
“Sevusevu”, or the Kava ceremony, done we were now a part of the Koroua village community. We were always welcome here we were informed. Young girls placed lei, or “salusalu” around our necks and smeared our cheeks with white baby powder implying we are as precious as babies and welcomed with love.
An elaborate Fijian lunch was followed by vigorous dancing set to pulsating music, our hosts playing guitars and clapping with gusto. Each guest was respectfully brought on to the floor (My lady partner gently whispered to me, “Wouldn’t you dance with me, Sir?”).
We were given an emotional farewell, our hosts waving goodbyes and singing the Fijian farewell song “Isa Lei” – Must you leave me sad and forsaken!
Fiji is a group of over three hundred islands and hundreds of islets and has a population of just under nine lakhs. It lies far East on the map, so seriously East that the number one English daily of Fiji – The Fiji Times – claims on its masthead, “The First Newspaper Published in the World Every Day”!
Two-thirds of the population lives on the biggest island Viti Levu which has the capital city Suva and Nadi (pronounced Nandi), the city Fiji’s only international airport.
Nearly all tourists head out towards the hundreds of resorts along the coast. We were the exceptions, staying in Nadi, a small town with a population of under fifty thousand, in an Airbnb with the most welcoming Sharma family, as part of our plan to interact with the Indian diaspora.
Fiji was a colony of Great Britain until 1970. To work in the sugar plantations the British introduced workers from India – initially from Eastern Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, and then from Tamilnadu. The first batch landed about 140 years ago. These indentured labourers were covered under an “agreement” whereby they would work in Fiji for a set number of years and then be “free” to return – at their own expense! The word agreement was corrupted to “girmit” by the rural Indians who were soon called girmitiyas. (The Carribeans, Suriname and Mauritius are some other places you would find the girmitiyas.) Many stayed back in Fiji and took to farming. With hard work they prospered enough to acquire properties and businesses.
Indians constitute about 36% of the population, 80% being Hindus. They are proud of their Indian heritage and virtually all the Hindu households have the triangular red flag of Hanuman fluttering on top of their houses. Food, festivals and clothes remain true to Indian tradition. The speak Hindi which is a mix of dialects from Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. Yet, not too many expressed a keen interest in visiting India. Perhaps it is a lack of family, geographical distance or merely the cost of travel!
Sri Siva Subramaniya temple at Nadi, built in the Dravidian style, is hugely popular with both locals and tourists. A smaller, old temple existed at this site. The apex body of South Indian diaspora decided to build a bigger temple. The new temple was consecrated twenty five years ago. Besides this temple, there are scores of other Hindu temples across the villages and towns.
Port Denarau Marina, a twenty minutes drive from Nadi, is bustling with activity in the morning. Hordes of tourists mill around and countless cruise vessels heading for multiple destinations dot the waters. We had chosen the “Authentic Fijian Day Cruise” operated by Cruisin Fiji to take us to Monuriki Island.
Captain Akuila sailed the boat past the Mamanuca group of islands stopping at Mana Sands Island and Monu Island for snorkelling and swimming in the lagoons with perfectly clear waters. My wife and I are both aquatically challenged. That did not deter Henry, the boat’s friendly hand, to encourage us to float on the water, initially on floatation tubes and then, as we gained confidence, using “noodles”.
We then sailed to our destination, Monuriki island, the place where a large section of Tom Hanks’ movie Cast Away was shot. Monuriki, also called Modriki, is uninhabited. The Captain took us on a short trip around the island pointing out some of the locales – the peak where Chuck Noland (Hank’s character) contemplates suicide, the beach where he scrawls “HELP” on the sandy beach. To provide an insta-worthy photo-prop, our tour agency had carried the basketball, Wilson, the only companion to Chuck during his four-year isolation on the island!
A lovo lunch completed our experience at the island. Lovo is a Fijian barbecue – a meal cooked in an underground oven with meats, veggies, taro wrapped in leaves slow cooked for a few hours on hot stones. This is served with bread and makes for a delicious meal.
An All Terrain Vehicle from the banks of Sigatoka river took us through the famous “salad bowl” of Fiji. Large tracts of land are planted with vegetables, fruits, and tobacco. We were headed to Naihehe caves. Our first stop was Priest Joe, the custodian of the cave, to seek his permission to enter the cave. It is said that if his permission is not taken you would get lost in the cave. Naihehe in Fijian means “a place to get lost”! His permission was duly granted after the kava ceremony.
Donning headlamps, we made our way through the low entrance into the cave. It took us some body contortions to do so. Inside we were confronted by an even lower entrance popularly known as the “pregnancy gap”. It is so low that it was pregnant women are not expected to bend enough to clear this gap! With some effort we all could get in and entered a huge hall full of stalactites and stalagmites. This cave was used by the Sautabu tribals during inter-tribal wars. Hundreds of them would stay in the cave for months with the pregnancy gap preventing any mass attacks on them. Food was aplenty thanks to the fish in the rivulets in the cave. There were secret exits in the roof of the cave through which men would clamber out and fetch vegetables and other provisions. Cannibalism in Fiji in thousands of years old and the tribals owning the Naihehe caves were the last of the cannibals. One macabre sight was the furnace where hapless victims were roasted before they were eaten up! Cannibalism ended with the advent of Christianity in Fiji. Ironically, the last victim of this gory practice was a Methodist missionary, Rev Thomas Baker, who made the mistake of touching a Chief’s head, a singular insult. The Chief promptly ordered the priest and his team to be slaughtered and eaten. The only portion of the priest they could not eat were the shoe soles which are now displayed in Fiji Museum in Suva!
Garden of the Sleeping Giant at Waikolo Road is nestled in a mountain valley, a short drive away from Nadi town. The mountain, from a distance, looks like a supine giant with a big belly, hence the name. The garden itself has a mammoth collection of orchids of all sizes and colours set among lily ponds and manicured lawns. We spent the morning here and then drove a couple of kilometres to Sabeto hot springs and mud bath.
At the entrance, a bucketload of thick black mud awaits you. You slather it on all over your body and allow it to dry. You then enter the first pool which is really muddy. You wash the dried mud off your body as thoroughly as you can and enter the next three pools in succession. These pools are filled with hot water coming from underground volcanic activity. In each of the pools the water gets progressively cleaner but increasingly hotter. Pool three is nearly sixty degrees centigrade! You scamper out, dry yourself and if you wish, you head into the massage parlour for a coconut oil massage. Mix of pool therapy and massage, made me really drowsy and I fell asleep on the massage table only to wake up when my masseuse asked me to turn over. Then I promptly went back to sleep!
On the flight back to India, I remember the six action packed days we spent in Fiji. Ocean and the river, Kava and Cannibals, food and the friendly folks, the whole range of experience. And we still had not covered a lot of what this lovely little nation has to offer. Return to Fiji we will, and maybe stay as guests of the Koroua village chief, the village which has permanently accepted us as one of their own!