Many rivers to cross; waterfalls to chase
May 25, 2005Pacific Harbour, Fiji
9:28 am.
First off, I need everyone to comment. It will be my connection to home. Knowing you all are reading this means a lot to me. I will have trouble answering the e-mails so my little mentions in this journal of you or you or you are my way of letting you know that I love you and I am thinking of you. Ok. If don’t mention you it does not mean I do not love you. Except you. You I truly hate. Tee hee. Now then. Read on.
Hud is sitting beside me eating Snaz, a Ritz cracker rip off that I am quite sure Mr. Christie would not be to happy about. He has also made up a friend named Chucky Beaver who he plays cards with and pretends the couch is a tractor. I have met Chucky Beaver. He is an excellent play partner for Hud, but he is a little thin and sometimes I think he is jealous of Hud and my relationship. Perhaps his relationship with his own father back at the dam is estranged, perhaps there was a fight about how lazy Chucky was and thereby destroying the “busy as” analogy, perhaps I am babbling as the Fiji heat melts me away like a big, fat, hot popsicle.
Perhaps I should move on.
Yesterday we were triumphant in booking our first adventure. Tomorrow, we will be traveling up the Navua River on a longboat, stopping to wander into the jungle and swim at the base of a waterfall. On the way back we go by raft, yes raft, all Huck Finn like and also perhaps enter a Fijian village. Where tramps and sluts are not allowed and I will have to take off my ball cap for the first time in 5 days.
We booked this at the resort up the road from our villa on our way to the beach. It was Tuesday, around 1:30pm, and we were the only people on the beach for at least 5 miles. It was weird and wonderful all at the same time.
At the beach I took Hud into the water and suggested Stephanie go check out the posh resort next door. About ten minutes later, she walked over the grassy knoll, followed by a Fijian woman and a tray of cocktails, cold beers for us, grenadine and Sprite for Hud (pink lemonade, just go with it, we did). My lovely wife informed us, that as long as we purchased a couple of cocktails we were free to use the resort facilities including their beautiful pool and even more beautiful menu. The place is all South Beach. With brown and cream coloured towels and wood and wicker everywhere. Just another bonus in the land of the lucky. We had a pizza with roasted red peppers, basil, black olives and mushrooms. And a Caesar salad on the side. The basil was arugula but it was still a cummer (for you Lo Lo).
Speaking of Hud and water. Yesterday morning we spent a fair amount of time working on Hud’s confidence in the pool. Let me tell you, this once tentative kid now leaps off the side into our waiting arms with a smile so wide it almost touches at the back of his head. He also has gone from solo descending to the first step (his ankles) to the third step (just under his wee nipples) in five short days. Having a pool is such a nice bonus. With all the stuff we are doing it is nice to have the option of down days where we can play around the pool, make lunches and have a simple walk to the store. This also affords Hud his nap, as the days have been so active, he has fallen asleep between 6 and 7, and waking up early accordingly.
And like true nimrods, the latest Steph and I have stayed up is 8:30. This wakes me up of course around 4 and Steph around…oh 8:30….just joking honey… Actually, last night was different, Steph actually managed to watch Troy in its entirety, which was a task in itself. I drifted off somewhere between the first and 19th battle at the wee hour of 8:10pm. I like to party.
In other Hud news, his toilet training is going well. Sure there have been some logs on the tile floor, but his holding of the peeing until appropriate lawn or reciprocal has been outstanding. And there has actually been some success in going poo in the toilet. For all those not comfortable with poo talk, I apologize. But as there are parents and siblings reading, this is quality information that must be shared.
Today is one of those down days. We need some more groceries and I only had a chance to skim over the e-mails after posting yesterday, so at some point we will make our way to the Cultural Centre which houses are grocery store and bakery/internet café.
Steph and I talk a lot more. Of course we do. We have to. It’s nice. We are more apt to divulge a little more than we are used to. The trusting factor between two people, even two happily married people still accelerates when you travel across the world together.
The one thing we both agreed right away was how great it is to wake up and then stay with Hud. His smile and comfy cozy cuddles in the morning make this trip so worth it. He continues to grow at breakneck speed; physically, emotionally and mentally, and he is by far my most proudest accomplishment yet. And I am forever grateful to my wife for sharing him with me. She is a beacon of patience, where as I am a ball of anxiety. Somewhere along the line we puzzle piece together almost perfectly and hopefully we can continue to turn Hud into a really sweet loving smart honest little boy.
Who poos in the toilet.
Love to all,
J.
May 26, 2005
Pacific Harbour, Fiji,
5:17pm
Yesterday was perfectly uneventful. Swim lessons in the morning, lunch at the local restaurant where I had chicken curry with naan and chutney. Yes chutney. Oh the days of melted cheese on Melba toast with chunky fridge door chutney seem so far away now. I love you mom. Steph had a lobster burrito and Hud had fish and chips, which of course is just chips and a sniff of fish. He did have some salad though so all is well on the green front.
After the walk home with cherry slushes in our hands we relaxed again by the pool and Steph treated me to a late afternoon siesta. I have almost read two John Grisham novels in five days to perfectly numb my literary brain. I say this because the one I am reading now is the perfect nap inducer. Two pages of Memphis lawyer fighting back against the man and I am sucking slumber. The nap was dream and boner free.
Anyhoo, I woke up and we had bbq chicken with potatoes and onions and Chinese cabbage and carrots. It was awesomely good and cheap. Hud fell asleep to Charlotte’s Web, which I watched if only to hear Paul Lynde snicker away as the rat Templeton. He was such a queen, even as a rat. Hud fell asleep halfway through at a semi-reasonable hour and Steph and I watched the campy remake of Walking Tall on this very computer. We both high fived each other after it was over as we had actually stayed up past 9:30.
Sleep was dream and boner filled.
So. Now I am back to today. Sitting at the kitchen counter sun soaked and beaming like a pregnant woman in the honeymoon trimester. We were just dropped off down the road after a day of true adventure and wonder. Today was our trek up the Navua River. So I will recap in painstaking detail to bore you or excite you at work or at your computer in your big double chair, with your wireless mouse, on your giant plasma screen, sipping a nice, easy Dewars with just a little water and a lot of ice. I love you dad.
9:40 am we arrive at our meeting place to get the bus. We sign our waiver. Yes waiver. Nothing instills you with a raging sense of confidence then the demand that a waiver must be signed prior to your trip. We signed and paid our $130 Fijian dollars. About $80 Canadian.
The countdown to the 10:15 bus ride was on. And all that know me; who know me well, know exactly what is going through my mind at that moment.
Where are the bathrooms? Are they functional? Should I bring a roll with me? Will I have to slip gently into the Fijian jungle and be attacked by a snake in truly man’s most vulnerable position? Ahh the nervous poos. I should give lectures.
I enquired at the front desk where we signed our waiver and she led me to a nice, clean bathroom with even some timeshare reading sitting next to the toilet. Moments later, I was satisfied that I was good for the day. I sat down outside and watched Hud play with a kitty cat. What’s that? A rumble in my stomach? Its now 10:08 and there are a number of blue haired Australians milling about signed up for the same excursions we are. Another grumble. Damn you chicken curry. Damn you. I wait until the front desk girl is making another couple sign their waiver and slip back to the loo.
Moments later, I am cleansed and in fact interested in renting a beautiful two bedroom condo in Sri Lanka. Things are good. For now.
10:15 the bus arrives. I am still very anxious but I sit down. Steph and Hud are already chatting up the people beside them. I am sweating and give a nice clenched tooth smile to the hairy Scottish guy beside me.
Navua is only ten minutes away from Pacific Harbour. It is the village where we picked up all our cheap produce a couple of days ago. We are led to where we are to receive our life jackets. I notice there are a couple of bathrooms in the little tourist shack where our adventure was to begin. It’s all good, although the blue hairs with their manic incontinence are basically lining up to use the facilities. I ignore them and receive the largest life jacket they have which of course just covers my nipples and the black straps span the rest of my girth and I look like I am wearing a multicolored strait jacket. Hud’s fits perfectly although I am convinced it was stolen off a Japanese war ship circa 1944. I stifle my concerns because there is really nothing anyone could do.
The plan is to first go to an actual Fijian village about twenty minutes upstream, participate in a Kava ceremony, learn a little about Fijian culture, have lunch, be entertained and then re-board and travel 50 minutes up stream to a waterfall where we can swim and frolic like forest sprites. After that we travel downstream in Billibillis, traditional rafts for about 20 minutes and then back in the longboats to return to Navua.
Our guide for the day is William. A skinny, handsome Fijian man who is from the village we will be visiting. He suggests we ride in his boat as it is wider and it will allow the three of us to sit all in a neat little row. We take the bow. Hud is excited. So are we.
The Navua River is a huge river that bleeds into the ocean. It’s about 80 meters wide and very deep in some parts, and extremely shallow in others. It runs far and branches off into Viti Levu, one of the two main islands (the other being Vanua Levu), and one of the 333 total islands that make up the country of Fiji.
We are on a longboat, with a Mercury 50 on the back, carrying about 10 passengers including the three of us. It is sturdy; the scenery at the moment is basic, foliage actually very familiar to home. Cows wander the banks staring and chewing.
Twenty minutes in we arrive at the village. There are men in skirts, faces painted, with headdresses, banging on the large wooden drums to signal our arrival. We are the last of the three boats making this journey. Hud is wide-eyed and giggly as we ascend the steps into the village.
There are a number of thatch-roofed buildings scattered around about two acres. We are instructed to enter the largest building, with shoes and hats removed. This of course is when I start to worry about the smell of my feet. I quickly realize that in a room full of forty shoeless people in really hot weather, my feet will not be the ones that stand up and say hi. We sit at the back, cross-legged. Immediately my hips start to hurt. Hud is being very good. The Kava ceremony begins.
The Kava ceremony happens at numerous events, weddings, funerals, resolutions, and as a welcoming to Chiefs or very important visitors. Kava itself is a drink made from the root of the Kava plant. We are explained all this during the ceremony.
An old Aussie dude is chosen as our “chief” and he sits at the front as the Fijians go through the ritual chants and sayings which maybe interesting if we knew what they were saying. Ok, it still was interesting. The two “chiefs” and then two other village representatives, all take sips of the Kava from a half coconut shell, clapping once prior to drinking and three times after drinking. After the formal ceremony is over, we are welcomed as guests in the village and all have a chance to have a sip of Kava. Steph and I both wholeheartedly take a gulp. It’s peppery and its supposed to numb your lips and tongue but I think our batch was not strong enough. We still felt cool for participating as others waved it off like it was pee.
After the ceremony William took us around the village to the individual buildings to let us know what happens in each. The first building was the preschool. Four or five kids were learning their ABC’s. We were standing at the back until Hud weaseled his way to the front. He then slowly, shuffling half steps at a time, began making his way to the toys at the back of the classroom. It was hilarious, William was explaining how the monies from these tours went to help the Fijian children enter proper schools in the nearby town and here is Hud, thinking he is invisible, shuffling towards the toys. The teacher welcomed him with open arms and we actually left him there to play with other kids as we moved on to the next leg of the tour.
Now here is where your heart begins to leap. You think of yourself as a cubicle farm, Danforth living, social lush, scooting your child to his nanny for fifty hours a week, kissing your wife once every two weeks, and now, mere months later, you are watching your beautiful blonde son, sitting in a open aired thatch roofed classroom, with a woven palm rug on the floor, playing with Fijian kids who have only known electricity for about half their lives.
You think you can’t change your life in a flash? Bullshit.
The tour continued and William explained how other income was made (crafts and such) and where the Kava plant and other village needed plants were grown, and how last April, the Navua River flooded and everything in their village was drowning in waist high water. William was sincere in explaining the good and bad things about his village. He was educated in town, but he came back and probably was the driving force in developing this lucrative tour. There were 85 people living in the village, all related, descended from a white Brit back in the cannibal era, all working together for the good of the village, like a commune, or communists for that matter.
Lunchtime. Which is timely as Hud was hungry and we forgot to pack snacks (yep Mitch, no raisins, no sectioned off Tupperware with cheese and red peppers, we suck as parents and it gets so much worse then this, just wait tee hee).
A traditional Fijian lunch is cooked in a Lovo, an earth oven. A hole is dug and hot coals are created and the food is stacked over the hot coals, meat first, then vegetables, and then covered in coconut palm leaves, and left to steam cook for about an hour.
Fish and pork usually as the meat and yams, taro, breadfruit and sweet potatoes are the vegetables. Although our meal was supplemented with lamb sausage, boiled chicken and white bread buttered and cut into corners so even Charlie would have found something he liked.
After lunch Steph participated in the Bula dance where big, six pack stomached, scantily dressed Fijian men wrapped there bulging arms around the women and dance all around the room. I think I can feel Steph swooning again as I write this. I watched Hud play outside with Edward and Sawa, two kids he befriended from his earlier foray into the classroom. They played tag and balanced on bamboo shoots as I stifled tears of awe. I am such a sucker.
And after the showing of crafts available for purchase, it was time to go, to jump back into the longboat to continue up the Navua, where waterfalls await. All in all the village trip was wonderful, exposing ourselves and Hud to a culture that has been surviving for hundreds of years without much outside influence was eye opening and just darn interesting.
Edward and Sawa waited near the boats to say goodbye to Hudson. Very cute.
All loaded up, and back in the longboats, the motor kicked in and we were off, further up the Navua. As mentioned, the water level varied, but as it had not rained in two weeks, the water level was very low and the boat had to fight the rapids very slowly, and a couple of times the motor hit and the bottom scraped. The scenery also changed as we moved upriver. It was mountainous and so lush. Vines growing on trees growing on bushes. And every ten minutes or so, a waterfall bursting out of the side of the rock, trickling down the side and into the river. Pretty awesome stuff. Hud started to drift off and as per the normal he fell asleep five minutes before we reached our destination.
The destination? Our waterfall.
With boats docked along the shore, and Hud now asleep in Steph’s arms, we began the five-minute tramp up the rocky slope to the first, smaller waterfall. Hud’s head bobbed and weaved like Sugar Ray, his eyes barely open, not knowing where the hell he was. Sugar cane bags full of sand had been placed along the path to allow for better footing and it was needed, even if it did mar the pristine setting a little. Another guide, William’s cousin, led us and offered a strong hand to Steph over some of the more unforgiving rocks and stones.
After five minutes we reached the base of the smaller waterfall. This is where we are to leave our bags and give our cameras to one of the guides to bring up to the larger waterfall. The small waterfall was about 20 feet, and you had to go directly up it with one dangling rope as help. This is when Mark, one of the guides offered to take Hudson, as he was a barefoot expert in traversing this part of incline. We agreed as we knew he was a better climber then us. So we watched, in true parental horror, as Mark began making his way up the incline, Hud dangling precariously off his back, his large black feet almost sticking to the side of the cliff, until he reached a plateau where we had to reach to sate our now screaming child.
At this moment, Steph and I looked at each other and while we did not say it, we both were thinking; “ what the hell are we doing to our kid?”
Needless to say, others, the elderly, were also thinking the same thing. This is also the point where I thought to myself….if Michele could see this she would kill me.
But. And this is a big but. Once Hud was now in my arms he was fine, and I had to one handedly go through chest high water, over rocks as big as cars, for about 500 more meters, to finally reach our destination.
Our destination? The large waterfall.
And of course we made it. Hud was still a little shaky and nervous, but now fully alert as we approached the roar of the waterfall. What a sight. In the middle of a vast, dense forest was this spouting of tons and tons of water, into a pool about an acre in size, where I was now wading with my son. The waterfall’s aggressive spray would mix with the sunlight and create an instant rainbow. And now with Steph in my arms as well, we stared at the true majesty of Fiji’s beauty and almost exploded into, I can’t believe we are here, hearty laughter.
With Hud now happy in Steph’s arms, I swam to the base of the falls. I climbed some easy rocks and stood on the side, allowing some of the water to fall directly on my fleshy head. What a feeling. I could barely see as water filled almost every pore. I leaped off the ledge and dove deep into the pool below. Underwater the furious sound of the falls was still surrounding me. I swam, and then bobbed to the surface. Now on my back, I let the current take me back to waiting family. Looking directly up at the falls, I drifted, soaking in the scene, letting it sluice into my brain, so I would never forget it. To never forget how lucky I am to see something like this.
I took Hud to let Steph swim around. Hud and I watched as some of guides scrambled up the side of the mountain to around 60 feet. And with a hearty screaming Bula! They jumped, one by one, to the amazement and applause and equally hearty giggle from Hud, into the waiting pool below. And here I thought my life was pretty good at the moment. These guides do this everyday; seek out new adventure, scramble up new mountains, as their profession. Something to be learned here I think.
We spent about 45 minutes at the falls before it was time to make our way back to the boats. Hud went with Mark again, but he was fine this time, accepting that Mark was a superior climber, leading me to believe he was just really tired on the way up. At the small waterfall we were able to jump the 20 feet down to the much smaller pool below. I did it in a flash, but Steph, in a hilarious moment of fear, shook her hands manically and then hugged the guide beside her as she wanted to hug someone in case she did not survive this jump. A number of us saw this display and laughed out loud. What a doll my wife is. She jumped and screamed as she came up for air. She was glad she did it. I love her so much it hurts.
Back at the boats now we all boarded for a short trip down river. About five minutes around the corner we all boarded small, narrow bamboo rafts called Billibilli. These are the traditional rafts Fijians used prior to the long boats with motors. We sat; half submerged on two bamboo poles and began drifting down the river. The elderly among us mildly complained that they were now sitting in water, and this is not what it looked like on the brochure. The younger folks, including the hairy Scot and his girlfriend all chortled. Hud was pure Hud at this point, batting his massive eyelashes and splashing the Scot’s girlfriend.
We drifted, pretty slowly down the river until the Scots and I jumped off the raft and began floating downstream in just our life jackets. This was another highlight for me as I just jumped in, jumped without thinking as I did at the waterfall, jumped without caring about the consequences, however slimy or rocky they may be, jumped thinking that I need to experience this, I desire it.
Consequences are just something anxious people think about.
Back in the longboats now, and back to the town where we boarded. Faster of course this time as we were going down river and at the treacherously low points, William just flipped the motor up and then down again when it was deep enough. It was deft and knowledgeable river running. It is his river after all.
Back now in the bus with everyone more familiar and lamenting on what a great adventure we just went on. One of the Scottish couple was doing the same thing as Steph and I. Quit his stock market job and touring around. Only for six months though.
Rookie.
We arrived back at the house where I started writing this. It’s the next morning now and we went for another traditional Lovo dinner last night at the resort down the road. It was the same resort we booked our trip through so a number of people that were there did the river trip as well. I sucked back four really cold Fiji Bitters and Steph had three banana daiquiris. Hud played with two older kids. We ate and listened to Fijian renditions of Harry Belafonte (I thought again of you Dad) and Bob Marley. At 9:00pm, we said our goodbyes and thanked the manager for a great day and a wonderful meal.
Back home Hud fell asleep very quickly as it was a very long day for the little man. All the people we saw at dinner mentioned how good he was for surviving and experiencing so much. We nodded and told them how lucky we are.
I went for a quick nudie dip in the pool before lying in bed. Letting the overhead fan dry me off. Steph snuggled into my chest and fell asleep. I read two pages and then dropped my book on the floor.
I closed my eyes. I fell asleep.
Smiling.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 5:06 PM
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