The "poor" people of Fiji

poor |poŏr; pôr|
adjective
1 lacking sufficient money to live at a standard considered comfortable or normal in a society : people who were too poor to afford a telephone | [as n. ] ( the poor) the gap between the rich and the poor has widened.
• (of a place) inhabited by people without sufficient money : a poor area with run-down movie theaters and overcrowded schools.
2 worse than is usual, expected, or desirable; of a low or inferior standard or quality :her work was poor | many people are eating a very poor diet.
• [ predic. ] ( poor in) deficient or lacking in : the water is poor in nutrients.
• dated used ironically to deprecate something belonging to or offered by oneself : he is, in my poor opinion, a more handsome young man.
3 [ attrib. ] (of a person) considered to be deserving of pity or sympathy : they inquired after poor Dorothy's broken hip.
ORIGIN Middle English : from Old Frenchpoure, from Latin pauper.

context |ˈkänˌtekst|
noun
the circumstances that form the setting for an event, statement, or idea, and in terms of which it can be fully understood and assessed : the decision was taken within the context of planned cuts in spending.
• the parts of something written or spoken that immediately precede and follow a word or passage and clarify its meaning :word processing is affected by the context in which words appear.
ORIGIN late Middle English (denoting the construction of a text): from Latin contextus, from con- ‘together’ + texere ‘to weave.’

One of the most difficult tasks attached to writing about this experience is placing things into proper context. There are so many things that are just different than how people would do them in the US, or Western culture at large. The concept of whether or not these people are poor is front and center for me. Not that poor is the only criteria for Peace Corps involvement, but the question as it relates to the context here begs to be asked.

This last week has been interesting.

A short setup.

As I've said before, the village is poor. (Though now, based on the definition above, I am questioning that assumption. Let's just say for now, they don't have very much money). They indicated to me they have one source of income - the pottery that tourists buy when they come here (and they come here everyday except for Sunday). There are 2 people living in the village that have jobs outside of the village - a husband and wife. That couple keeps their money (except for what goes to the church - stay tuned). The rest of the village evidently lives off of the combined income from the women who do pottery. The kids (except for one) stop going to school after the equivalent of 8th grade because secondary (high) school costs about $800 a year (tuition, books, transportation). So, if you are a kid in Nakabuta, you are destined to farm if you're a boy and do pottery if you're a girl (unless for the girls you marry out of the village). I had a meeting with the men and they indicated (though I'm not entirely sure because of language barriers) their priorities for the village are footpaths, education, incinerators, and a computer. Frankly, I think that was the list the guy who died had made when he requested a PCV. The men seem pretty content with life. I am meeting with the women this coming week to hear their priorities. That should be clearer since generally their English is much better. I'll keep you posted.

On Monday I was talking with one of the women and she told me that the village was going to be buying a "microphone system" for the pastor for $1200! I was scratching my head because the church is relatively (physically) small, and the pastor is a fire and brimstone guy (he's LOUD) so no one has any problems hearing him. But I didn't say anything. On Tuesday I get asked to come up to the church as the Tikina (district) pastor is here to speak and the microphone system is here, so come on up (the church is on top of a hill overlooking the village). While walking up to the church, the woman who told me about the system said it actually cost $1600.

OK.

After a short service and a couple of songs (Fijians LOVE to sing in church), the men start moving briskly about and they unwrap the "microphone system" which is actually a kick-ass amplifier system with two enormous speakers - equipment that I would have loved to have for block parties in college and such. These things are AWESOME. And I'm watching this and trying to figure out why they bought them. We can hear people just fine in the church.

(A quick side note, totally relevant to context. In the US, people generally "go to church" on Sundays. In Nakabuta, people "go to church" 3 times A DAY.)

While they are setting them up, I ask the woman why they bought them and she says "well, not everyone in the village comes to church . . .

. . . and the pastor wants those people (who don't come to church) to be able to hear the service". As she is saying this, the men are positioning the speakers at the windows which overlook the village. After they set the speakers up, the pastor goes fire and brimstone for all of the Nakabuta valley to hear. I am sitting there speechless. This is the Methodist church. Not everyone in the village is Methodist - there is a small contingent of Assemblies of God folks in the village. But everyone in the village can hear this service. Clearly. Whether they want to or not.

I leave with everyone after the service and go home. Home is shaping up quite nicely. After the waterfall and river through my house last weekend, the men of the village "patched the thatch" (sorry), and no more leaks so far. I have electricity and running water. I also have many many critters. Spiders the size of my hand, ants (lots of ants), no cockroaches that I've seen yet, moths, all sorts of bugs in general. But the problem is rats. I have rats. I need to get a kitty cat I think to help dissuade said rats from hanging around my dwelling. (I haven't seen any cats in the village - lots of dogs, horses, chickens and cattle, but no cats). Food cabinets (floor standing) only work for so long before they chew through those. So I bought a refrigerator and I keep everything in that. I also have a stove. The PC gives us a move-in allowance which covers pretty much everything but the fridge. It is a decided luxury (a few families in the village have them), but since I am supposed to be here two years, I decided that I wasn't going to suffer in the name of blending in. If no one else in the village had electricity and fridges, then it might be different, But people have them. So, I am pretty happy about the fridge (though expensive, well worth it).

So anyway after the service on Tuesday night, I have a nice quiet dinner, read, watch a movie and go to sleep. Every night I have time to write, read and watch a movie. Every night I have lots of time. My birthday is coming up and my birthday wish is for people to pass around and fill up an external hard drive with movies and TV shows (like The Wire, John Adams, any and all movies, etc.) they have on their computers. I will happily pay for said services and drive. If anyone has any ideas, let me know.

At 4:00 AM on Wednesday morning, I am shocked awake by the unmistakable blaring of fire and brimstone guy . . . and he's on fire! For 2 hours. He is on fire. About God knows what. But he is preaching, Really loud. Through his brand new kick-ass amplified speaker system that would make Green Day greener with envy. For 2 hours. There was some singing mixed in, but it wasn't soothing. It was aggravating as hell. And then the same thing Thursday morning. 4:00 AM, for 2 hours. I am NOT exaggerating when I say that in the US he would be arrested for disturbing the peace . . . in the middle of the day, let alone at 4:00 AM.

Suddenly, sleep is in major jeopardy.

I asked if this was normal (the 4:00 AM service) and they said yes for the month of July because they are fasting (fasting means no grog and no cigarettes for the month). This called for an emergency trip to Suva to find earplugs, which they have at the PC office. So Thursday I went to Suva to get those. They kind of work (thank God?). Otherwise, I would have needed to bail for the month of July. I suspect that the amplified preaching will be a theme throughout my stay here and I believe that beginning in August the 4:00 AM turns into a 6:00 AM service. There are also services around noon and 7:00 PM daily.

Did I mention they go to church a lot here?

On Friday morning, one of the women comes knocking at my door (people knock on my door constantly - the privacy thing will always be an issue. I am thankful I have a door) and says the TK (Turaga ni Koro - head of the village) wants to meet with me about something. We meet and they ask if they can borrow $2000 from me to pay for the funeral costs for one of the women who died (at age 55 from cancer - more on that later). I'm like "huh?"

So, this is where I don't want to sound like I'm grumbling. But the truth is I am. The PC is supposed to go to each village and do an orientation with the key people in the village (like the Chief, the TK, head of the women's group, etc.) explaining the requirements, rules and such. One of the things that is supposed to be made clear is that they are not to ask to borrow money from the PCV - the PCV is a volunteer and they leave everything back in America and are given a small stipend, etc.. Reason being is that culturally, it puts the PCV in a weird spot. The perception is that I have money (my part in this probably was buying the fridge - but the reality is it probably wouldn't have mattered - they would have asked anyway. Especially in my village, because of the daily influx of tourists, they believe that white people have lots of money. They see TV programs from the US. They know). Anyway, I asked the TK and the head of the women's group if the PC had done said orientation and they said no. Of course, it is a possibility they are saying no when in fact it did happen. But I suspect it didn't considering the utter lack of information PC had about the village - namely the guy who requested PC come has been dead for 8 months and the local health inspector who he made the request through is long gone.

In Fiji, when you are asked for something, it is expected (culturally) that you say yes. So, I was in a weird spot. If I say yes, I am setting a precedent that I really don't want set. If I say no, I am potentially insulting and shaming the people in the village and setting myself back in the process. I called a Fijian contact in the PC who confirmed those two scenarios.

I asked how would they pay me back? That was a good question to ask. Around the village of Nakabuta is a wind power farm with lots of windmills. Turns out there is a second source of income to the village - the village leases the land to the FEA (Fijian Electric Authority) and they are due payment on August 1st and that's how they would pay me back. The compromise I came up with (and I am open to all criticism for this) was to tell them I don't have $2000, but could lend them $500 ($250 US), tell them this was the only time I would lend them the money, had them write it down, told them if anyone in the village asks me again I would politely decline, but under no circumstances would I lend anyone any money again, not even bus fare. I was making the exception because they didn't get the orientation and about 100 people were going to show up over the weekend expecting to get fed for the funeral (funerals in Fiji are big parties). This seemed acceptable to all parties. For me, it's a $250 experiment. I fully expect to get paid back, but if I don't, that's on me. The funeral happened. They bought the pig for the lovo (sp?) - the equivalent of a Hawaiian luau. They fed all the people. Those people are scattering back to their communities today (Sunday). I'll let you know if they pay me back.

So, land lease. Opportunity. I found out this morning that the lease is renewed every 6 months. Or 5 years. Or I don't know. Land leases are THE major source of income for Fiji. It's one of the things that separates Fiji from many other 3rd world countries. They lease the land to the tourist industry for the resorts. And on a smaller scale they lease to the FEA and the water company. Way back when the leases were written for 99 years. Now, they vary depending on the land and the need. I don't know the details about the lease, but I do know it's written in English and I'm pretty sure the guy I talked to this morning can get me a copy. So . . .

. . . the thought that occurred to me was to renegotiate the lease to include an education provision in it which states that the FEA will pay for secondary education for every child from the village of Nakabuta for the duration of the lease (perpetuity unless they go nuclear here :-) ). I'd love to include University into the language as well. It's a small village, so it wouldn't cost the FEA much. I want it paid directly to the education provider to keep it out of the hands of the church. And it could solve the education problem for the village. But it's just a thought. The bridge between thought and execution in Fiji is often very long and sometimes never built. So we shall see.

As for the loan/money stuff, big picture it's not a big deal for me, but potentially a big deal for the village. It is a perfect opportunity for me to work with the village on issues around money management, I've already asked them to write down exactly how much they take in from pottery each day and then will work with the women's group (because they're the ones who earn the money) to determine where the money goes. I can now ask to see the lease with the FEA (and any others - who knows?). It provided me a shortcut into the mechanics of the village.

It also made me think in passing of the book Confessions of an Economic Hit Man. I won't turn into that. But it did give me pause.

My guess is they give between 30-40% of their money to the church. The current structure is to give all proceeds for the 1st week of the month to the church. I will turn them onto the idea of percentage giving - i.e. a week ago Saturday was the biggest day - probably 60 tourists - they've had in a long time here. Because it fell after the first Monday of the month, it falls in the first week, so it all goes to the church. So for July it will probably be closer to 50%. They also give every time they go to church (maybe that's why people don't show up?). The youth group gets together every week and meets and they give what they can to the church. And the Methodist church here in Fiji (don't know if it's true in the US) has someone who sits at the front of the church and meticulously writes down how much who gives while they are in church. And in the youth group it was the same. It's the only place I've seen Fijians keep track of money.

Meanwhile there is the most adorable 7 year old girl who didn't go to school all week last week. When I asked her why, she said no bus fare ($1.40 RT).

Money, as usual, is a complex issue with lots of potential strings. There is one thing not associated with money I can launch into fairly quickly I hope . . .

The 55 year old woman who died of cancer; her husband was the guy who requested PC come here. He was in his early 50's when he died, of cancer. They burn ALL of their garbage here in the village (in fact in most villages they burn everything) including all plastic - bottles, bags, diapers, all of it. That can't help. That will be my number one priority and it is amazing how difficult it is to get the point across. By the way, if any of you know of a good design for incinerators (for paper) please pass them on.

Lastly (and sorry for the length of this entry), there's the notion of interference that is on my mind. I was talking with Robyn (some of you know her and the gang that are currently in El Salvador doing work on the school and such) and she spoke of the abject poverty and filth. And violent crime. By the way, there are no guns in Fiji - not even for the police. So there's no gun crime here. Anyway, El Salvador sounds depressing. It sounds poor based on the definition above. It's not like that here. People, especially in the villages, are predominantly happy. It's not like they're hiding anything. They hide nothing. The most constant sound in my village is laughter, the men, the women and the kids.

What it makes me think of is education. I know that in large parts of Africa, female education is literally the key to begin the end of all of it - poverty, hunger, water-bourne illness, AIDS, population control, everything. In Fiji, while people are financially poor, there doesn't appear to be that poverty issue. Population control seems to be stable. There's plenty of food. They're addressing water and garbage, kind of (I think that's where PC can be of the most help).

The gender issue is very real, especially in the villages. But if education comes and continues, then people will flock to the cities (where university is) and then what? This is a formulating thought for me. I don't know what I think yet. I suppose I have a couple of years to ponder. But what I'm left with today, is that these people, in this village, are happy. And when I contrast that with what I left behind in the states, it leaves me wondering.

I don't see very much suffering here. That's what it is. I see much more suffering in the US.

Adam and Eve. The forbidden fruit. Progress. Human nature. At what cost? Debate anyone? :-)

It makes me think a lot of the original Star Trek series and the prime directive of non-interference. If someone passes around a hard drive, I'd love to have that on there as well . . .

Next time, hopefully I will be talking about my garden.

Maciu

meanwhile my $45 cappuccino machine is saving my life . . .