The Islands of Fiji

A young boy in charge of the family cow takes
a rest in an open field near Sawini Beach on the island of Viti
Levu.>>>
I went out alone for a short walk before
nightfall along Sawini Beach. The evening was quiet and the shore
deserted. I watched a small boy in a nearby field minding the
family cow. The child calmly walked along playing alone, quietly
amusing himself. After a time, he moved the cow to another grazing
spot coaxing the animal forward with a slender stick that was
half again taller than the boy. I watched the languid child and
his bovine charge until the Fijian sun slipped into tropical
darkness.
That evening the neighboring farmers set fire to the sugar cane
fields a few hundred meters away from where I was staying. The
night sky glowed with roaring flames. The scene took on an eerie
beauty, as I watched the fires rising in the darkness, a raging
inferno under a silver full moon.

<<< This Fijian village is constructed
of traditional bures, thatched-roof dwellings that are still
used throughout the islands.

A view of a fertile farmland valley near the
town of Sigatoka, an
important agricultural area on the island of Viti Levu.>>>
A Fijian tribal elder had arranged a van
and driver to take a group of us to the undeveloped interior
of Viti Levu. The grey haired elder was a tall, friendly, self-effacing
man in his early sixties.
We set off in the morning, twelve of us crammed into the back
of a
ong-wheelbased Toyota van, and headed into the hills above Sigatoka.
The paved highway ended a few kilometers outside of town. The
main road that intersected the island deteriorated into a pot
holed ribbon of dirt. Our bone-jarring ride continued through
the highlands along the steep, deeply rutted roads. We banged
around inside shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, rolling and
jostling back and forth like a seesaw. It was a slow, hot, dusty
adventure through the countryside.
The island interior was pristine, dotted with a few small settlements
and yurt-like Fijian huts of the traditional bure villages. We
slowly bounced along, occasionally stopping to take in panoramas
of the green valleys and surrounding countryside. I was amazed
at the natural beauty of the largely undeveloped interior highlands.
The jagged mountains looked like a smaller version of the American
Southwest, if you could imagine the desolate desert peaks and
mesas incongruously draped in lush tropical growth.
 
<<< Colorful produce and vendors
at the town market near the coast of Viti Levu, Fiji's largest
island.
The crowded bus stopped adjacent to the
outdoor market in Sigatoka with the driver's radio still blasting
at full volume. The music during the hour and a half drive from
Nadi was a great mix of local World Beat/African influenced music,
Jamaican reggae, and contemporary rock and roll. I wandered through
the central market in Sigatoka around the stalls of the open
air market, buying fruit and vegetables from the Indian and Fijian
vendors. It was a busy little bazaar filled with a pleasant mix
of exotic sights, sounds, colors, and smells.
Stalls and tables were brimming with bright red tomatoes and
peppers, yellow squash, pungent onions, garlic, and baskets of
spices. The sweet smell of mangoes, papayas, bananas, and other
colorful tropical fruits wafted through the air of the busy market.
Fijian vendors sold souvenir trinkets, cassette tapes, clothing,
and a bewildering variety of strange goods resembling some secular
cargo cult.
 
Swaying palm trees and blue skies frame the
white sand beach resort of Tubakula on Viti Levu's sunny south
coast.>>>
At Tubakula narrow paths led past A-framed
bungalows with shaded porches that were sheltered under a canopy
of coconut palms. Each of the shared two-story bungalows accommodated
six people and featured a complete kitchen with all the amenities,
a dining area with table and chairs, comfortable rattan chairs
to lounge in, and a separate shower and toilet. There was a beautiful
white sand beach twenty meters from the front door and a large
pool located in the center of the complex. It was a vision of
paradise for a modest $6 U.S. a night.

<<< Not a single soul to be seen
along this tranquil, deserted Fijian beach at twilight.
T
R A V E L M E N U
M
A I N M E N U
Text and Photography
by Paul Picus. Copyright © 1996-99 Paul Picus
Copyright © 1996-99
Gar Benedick, All Rights Reserved.
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