A DAY IN FIJI
LIGHTER SIDE OF LIFE SUVA, KAVA AND SOCCER NATIVES WITH EYE TO BUSINESS (Written for the Southland Times by “Ulysses.”) With what expectations of glamour and romance does one set out for those enchanted isles with which the Pacific abounds! Visions of a land “In which it seemed always afternoon and round the coast the languid air did swoon” crowd upon one. Does realisation or disillusion await one? The ship is nearing Fiji and the subject all passengers are discussing is the storybook “South Sea Island Feeling.” All wonder if it exists. The proof comes suddenly from th 6 behaviour of a man playing bridge. Land is sighted through the smoking-room port. A mysterious island looms up in the moonlight. Here is something really new. It is too much for the prosaic Englishman. He forgets bridge and makes poetry. The sight of him with both arms and hair waving is too much for the bridge players. Supper is ordered immediately. Nevertheless there is romance in the air, and with Suva due in the morning great things are hoped for. The sight of Suva on the Island of Viti Levu further buoys up the hopes. The town seems buried in brilliant green. The town buildings with the bungalows on the hill facing the harbour all surrounded with rich vegetation and the fruit and copra boats in the foreground with sails out to dry combine to make a Wonderful sight. The old coal hulk to the left completes the picture.
After gazing in wonder at the mostphotographed Sergeant of Police in the world, a man weighing at least 280 pounds, the party starts for the business quarter. With the kind help of a traffic policeman all get safely across the Bukulua bridge into the town. This policeman looks very business like, but needless to say the “traffic” part of his name hardly worries him at all. As everyone feels very tropical the next thing to do is to buy a suit at one of the Hindu shops in Renwick road. These suits cost about thirty-five shillings, but a warning has gone out that the same article may cost at least seventyfive shillings when the American ships are in. Hence the bargain is a hard one. That all adds to the fun though it is not romance. It being more important to see some of the country, the party starts out full of hope. Quite unaware that there could be any catch about Fiji the driver is told to stop ‘at Tamavua, which is the first village to the north after leaving Suva. The male inhabitants are all playing “soccer.” One player quickly attaches himself to the party and with broad smiles and the intelligent answer of “Yes” to all questions leads the way into a hut. Here a group of natives are seated round a Kava bowl. The cup of coco-nut shell passed round and everyone is expected to taste this Island brew. A few words of very bad French saved the situation, as one of the natives had been seen literally washing his hands in the muddy liquid. That this was one of the methods of preparation did not make it look more tasty. Then came the inevitable “catch.” A subscription list for donations to the local Football Club appears from nowhere and the curious are relieved of four shillings. On past this village the road travels through banana and coco-nut plantations to the Rewa River. At Nausori a stop is made at the hotel for lunch. Situated among palm trees and surrounded by cane fields this place still maintains the romantic air of the Islands. A meal consisting possibly of paupau, bread-fruit granadilla with fresh bananas and pines as dessert is the least to expect. Imagine the consternation when very clear soup followed by roast beef and potatoes was brought in. At least the Hindu waiter was efficient, and the meal was nutritious.
Across the river by punt with a brief visit to the sugar mills and then to Mbau the island home of the Fijian King. Through miles of cane fields, past villages well off the regular track, with rank vegetation on all sides, till an opening in the mangoes shows half a mile of mud flat with the Island of Mbau in the distance. Assistance was given here to extract a very new Ford from the mangoes on the side of the road. The owner of the car turned out to be Ratu Pope, the King himself. The owner of the übiquitous Ford is a cultured man and kindly invited the party to his home on the Island. The next business was to get across the mud flat. From amongst the mangoes a youth arrived armed with the inevitable slasher and with two blasts on a shell called over two other natives pushing a “flatty” across the mud. Everyone climbed aboard and the Fijian boys pulled and pushed the boat across the half mile of mud flat, till the deep water was reached. Children in all stages of dress and undress appear as if by magic, all calling out for “mon” and like nothing better than to dive about the landing stage looking for pennies.
Unfortunately the Queen was indisposed, so the stay at the Royal house was short. Though almost without furniture the houses here are most picturesque and are wonderfully decorated inside. The mats on the floors are worth going miles to see. The Tappa on the walls is beautifully designed. The church here contains a stone about four feet high used long ago as an execution stone on which to batter the heads of enemies and convicts. Now it is put to better use, for it is used as a baptismal font and does good work in its new sphere of activity.
The trip round the Island was especially interesting under the care of one of the King’s servants who treated the party to a drink of milk from green coco-nuts. This drink is most refreshing and it was a long time before all were satisfied.
Confronted once more with the trip across the flat the sightseer is suddenly informed that it will cost another five shillings to go back. The original bargain certainly was on the basis of “How much to go across” and the wily Fijian, who had evidently been to a mission school, joyfully demanded another fare to return. At this stage of the journey he is quite unable to understand a good flow of language so he wins comfortably. By this time, however, the tide has come in and instead of having to push the boat over the mud the boy poles the whole way. The members of the party will soon be wise to these little points and strange as it may seem they all lend to the romance of the place. After landing, thoughts turn instinctively to the Grand Pacific Hotel for dinner.
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Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 20395, 26 January 1928, Page 8
Word Count
1,158A DAY IN FIJI Southland Times, Issue 20395, 26 January 1928, Page 8
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