I saw one of these color shifting cephalopods at the local wharf & I had to try my hand a cooking this tasty creature.

I consulted with a well-spoken Fijian woman at the Lautoka market & she gave me detailed instructions on how to prepare said Fijian delicacy. Myself & fellow volunteers Alicia & Megan made our way to the wharf & haggled for a 8+ lb. prize-winning $12 octopus, which we named Paco…..later we affectionately referred to him as Pactopus. Thankfully the dirtiest work is done for us ahead of time, namely removing the eyes, brain, ink sac & 3 hearts…eeewww…this is done by well….are you sure you want to know? Turning the thing inside out and ripping it all off.

Our friend Paco had obviously run with a rough crowd because he was only rocking 6 of his 8 tentacles, which are very tough & need to be tenderized. So the first thing we have to do is & I quote “beat the thing nicely.” But before that, we all partake in a pre-bludgeoning photo shoot while we squirm & squeal & seriously question whether this was a good idea.

All of three of us hold a rolling pin in hand & start beating away while sea water is flying at our faces and we feel an odd mix of determination & remorse.

Once thoroughly tenderized Alicia has a stroke of octo-genius & she brings out scissors to cut off his suckers. A far better idea than slicing them off with a knife & potential my own appendage.

The next step is to get a large pot smoking hot then throw him in, put a lid on it & let the natural sea water come out so he boils in his own Paco au jus. Once all of the water boils away we added homemade coconut milk, onions, chilies and a squeeze of lemon juice.

It was a screaming success, albeit totally disgusting! This was made 100% true to the traditional Fijian method of preparation and was delicious. It was tender and tasted mild like the smell of fresh ocean air. A highly nutritious animal, filled with lean protein, iron, selenium and omega-3’s, it’s dressed perfectly with the rich coconut milk and tang of lemon. It will definitely be making it to my table again. I need to get it while I can…I wonder if I can get whole octopuses in Cleveland?

Recipe

Sulua Vaka Lolo-Octopus in Coconut Milk

1 whole fresh octopus (brains, ink sac etc. removed)

Salt and baking soda

1 coconut or 1 can of coconut milk

1 small onion, diced

1 chili pepper, diced

1 lemon cut into wedges

Rolling pin or meat tenderizer

Newspaper

Take octopus outside to tenderize, this is a messy job.

Put salt & a bit of baking soda on all sides, place on newspaper & “beat it nicely” using a rolling pin or meat tenderizer. Then rinse it off with water thoroughly. Do not cut it up, leave it whole, however we removed the head & just cooked the tentacles.

Cut off the suckers using scissors and discard. If the beak has not been removed, do so. It is in the center and is a hard black mass that can be cut out….it sounds disgusting, but at this point you are pretty much committed so deal with it.

Heat up a large stock pot until very hot with no water in it. Then add the octopus to the hot pan and cover. Water will naturally come out of it & it will boil in its own liquid. Simmer covered for about 30 minutes, until its own water is gone, turning once about every 10 minutes. The tentacles will curl up & the entire octopus will turn an inky purple hue. Turn off the heat and add fresh (or if you must canned) coconut milk, onion and chilies to the pot. Squeeze with lemon before serving. Serve with boiled cassava.

When I was in the US I had the pleasure of working with a wonderful doctor of chiropractics named Andrew Ragon. When I told him I was moving to Fiji he said that his college did clinics abroad there. I contacted the administrator for the clinics & arranged to meet the team on 2 separate clinics in a town near me. It was lovely to meet these hard working students, be among like minded people and spend time with Americans. Of course it also rocked that I got adjusted and they left behind the ever-coveted American magazine.

So after the last clinic in July I thought it would be great to host a clinic in my town. The students from Palmer Chiropractic College come twice a year and spend about 12 days going to mostly schools and adjusting the students and staff. It took months of emailing back & forth with the college in the US & with people locally. I needed to get approval from the head teacher to have a clinic at my school, set up a venue in town, arrange for 2 teas, design a flier to distribute, walk all over creation to hang the fliers & of course give a description of what chiropractics is because it is an unknown form of treatment here. So after several long months of detailed work it came together on Friday Sept 30th.

The team of young chiropractors-to-be slowly disembarked from the bus after an early morning wake-up call and a long journey to my school in the bush. My school is about 10km outside of town & 1.5km in the interior down a bumpy, windy, dusty and sometimes precarious road. The admin person Cheryl, looks at the road then looks at me & asks “Is this really a road?” My reply is “Yes. It even has a name.” About 5 minutes later the driver got a flat tire. Oops.

The doctors set up their tables and supplies and quickly got to work on the 160 students/staff and nearly 100 locals from the nearby village and neighborhood. It was blistering hot that day with the sun shining and humidity hazing the mountains. The doctors worked tirelessly through heat, sweat and exhaustion. At one point I was sitting and watching the clinic progress and I saw a doctor treating a young, nervous girl. The doctor is smiling and generously explaining what is about to happen. The child is trusting and has no idea what to expect. I was holding back tears as I watched my vision of holding a clinic taking place right before me & seeing these future chiropractors treat so many deserving people in this financially weakened land.

We wrapped things up at the school, had a lovely tea of local fruits and traditional Indian snacks and headed to town to set up for the next venue. It was held at the local Sathya Sai Centre. When we arrived there were already 30 people waiting! We set up and got to work. The team of 18 saw nearly 150 people in 3.5 hours. A SMASHING success!

I later spoke to one of the team and he said that Friday, even though it was their last day of doing clinics & they were all exhausted, was his favorite day. I was overjoyed! He said he saw more patients at the final clinic than any other place that were relevant to chiropractics and would be similar cases to what they would see in the US.

This was one of the most meaningful projects I have done since I’ve come to Fiji and by far the largest scale. Chiropractics is something I firmly believe in & it has healed me from many injuries and a car accident. In 1 day the team treated nearly 400 people. I am still standing tall and proudly wearing a feather in my cap for this accomplishment. The young students from the Palmer college have made an impact in Fiji and I am so grateful for their service.

A hearty Vinaka Vakalevu!! (huge thanks!)

Coming soon…..this blog is taking a different direction….Fiji Feasting-all food all the time.

My dear friend Michelle from the US came to Fiji to visit for 2 weeks. We traveled all around the main island of Viti Levu & then took an 18 seater twin Otter prop plane to the aptly named “Garden paradise” of Taveuni. There are 2 other Peace Corps volunteers on the island that live in Fijian villages. Our first venture was a 5 hour hike on the Bouma Trail. It was a long, deep, winding hike through farmland and lush dense jungle. Our guide was well versed with the local flora and showed us the native plants that have been used for hundreds of years, specifically for blood coagulation for cuts & a special leaf that has natural surfactants so it lathers and was used for soap. We saw several exotic birds and laid our heads for the essential photo opportunity of placing our necks on the large stone where many a heads have been chopped as part of human sacrifices when cannibalism was alive and well. Christian Missionary soup anyone?

Following this arduous, sweaty hike we walked to a gushing waterfall 2 stories high. The waterfall plunges into a large, crisp fresh-water pool, begging to be swum in. So we jumped into the pool and the guide helped me climb jagged rocks to make our way behind the fall to jump in. Oooone….Twoooo….THREE! Weeeeeeeeeee….SPLASH! Then we waded around and took a looong deeeep breath and swum under the crashing fall. It was revitalizing after a 5 hour hike and waking up at 4am to catch our flight.

The next day we met another volunteer in her village where there is a well maintained trail called the Lavena Coastal Walk. This is a popular hike among adventurers & has unparalleled beauty, seeing long stretches of white & black sand beach, villages with waterfall backdrops, fresh water streams, fields of dalo climbing hills and of course it wouldn’t be complete without the Indiana Jones style suspension bridge, slippery and swinging in disrepair. Inviting indeed.

We started our hike and within 15 minutes it began to rain, not just a light sprinkle either. A down-pouring of rainforest proportions. No part of us was not covered in warm jungle rain. The hike 1 way is 1.5 exquisite hours. At the end of the hike you reach a river that leads to 2 waterfalls one of which is 50 feet high, the other is like a slide you can climb to the top of a slip all the way down. Basically natures version of a 6 flags water park. Because the rain had been pouring on us for over an hour the river was swollen and the current was moving swiftly. The guide said we may not be able to stay in the river long because there is a danger of flash floods. So we eagerly removed our shoes & hung our bags on a tree branch. We tumbled into the water & started to slowly move toward the waterfalls. Michelle, admittedly not a strong swimmer, was getting nowhere fast with the current pushing against her. At one point we stopped and hugged a rock to hold us in place. I was looking in the distance toward the waterfall & realized there was no possible way we could get even close enough the current was pushing so strong. Not 5 minutes of crawling in the river did the guide look back to us and yell “THE FLOOOD IS COMIIINNNNG!” I look at him in breath-holding surprise & yell a now obvious & stupid question, “Should we go back?” He does not reply & then yells a second time “THE FLOOOD IS COMIIINNNNG!” He follows with “GO BACK, GO BACK!” At that moment I don’t know if I imagine what happens next or if this is a real occurrence but, it felt as through the river had retracted, as if the water level reduced for a just a second, followed by the river swelling again larger than before, followed by another retraction and expansion. It was as if the river was breathing. I look to Michelle & say we have to go back & she says “Oh, this should be easy.” We now laugh at the irony of that statement. We let go of the rock that was securing us & get pushed down the gushing river. We are in the center of the river doing our best to move to the bank where we had left our things. Michelle nearly passes it & I am struggling to make my way across. We reach our things, just as the guide saves his flip-flops & Michelle’s tennis shoes. My brand new Teva flip flops, only a month old, went running away down the river….(at this moment one very lucky Fijian down-stream will probably be seen walking around with my brand new shoes.) Michelle starts to slip away as the current pushes & I reach for her arm and pull her toward myself & the river’s edge. We do our best to stand & are instructed by the guide to chain link our arms, as we very slowly step one foot at a time in knee deep water, shoeless & drenched, making our way to safety. In a matter of 5 minutes the river had swollen from our ankle to our knees. The guide thankfully had saved his shoes which allowed me to at least walk back with some protection, albeit they were pancaked flat & three sizes too big. We caught our breath and let the adrenaline subside along with the rain. Finally dry enough to get out our cameras, we stood posing for a photo, smiling out of life affirming happiness that we survived a flash flood.

How I Knew My Mom Was Cool:

The first memory of knowing my mom was cool……She took us out of school for a day when we were young kids & we drove to the Ohio Caverns & got milkshakes from McDonalds.

She let me marry the wrong man, but didn’t say “I told you so”, when it didn’t work out.

She STILL hides an Easter basket for me.

When I was 16 I told her I was going to get a tattoo and she didn’t freak out.

We got tattoos together when I was 17.

She loves to dance.

She harmonizes to raunchy Snoop Dogg songs.

She has an undying crush on Usher.

She used the phrase “bro’s before hoes” in a recent email.

She emphatically & effectively uses the “F” word.

Mom, you ROCK! (P.S. She gave birth to me, a 10 lb. 13 oz. baby on mother’s day in 1980…right on.)

Background information to the story that follows: The Indian population in Fiji still practices arranged marriages. Not the kind where before birth you are betrothed because your astrological forecasts are a perfect match. But the kind where a nit-picky, controlling mother insists you marry by the time you are 27 or you will shame the family- kind of an arrangement. So everybody spreads the single status word & starts to find you a mate. What happens next is as a woman, my prospective partner comes over with his parents & siblings & my family tries to schmooze him with tea and food & our parents brag about each of us. Meanwhile, myself & my potential future husband sit in silence, staring at each other in the most awkward hour of our lives. And of course, the final decision is made 99% based on looks…I wish I were joking about that….they even acknowledge that it’s superficial & know that looks don’t last, but that’s just how it’s done. (So let’s cross our fingers you are having a good hair day.) And if either party says no, you have to deal with the unfortunate rejection, your family’s frustration & pressure & the entire awkward experience ALL over again with the next potential match.

Obviously this isn’t quite the way things go down in my American culture (Haaaaaa-llelu-jah!), however, in my effort to realize we are all One, it’s really not too dissimilar to that of a friend setting you up with someone they know.

The story: I am in the market and was buying eggs from a different vendor because my usual guy was out. I am speaking Hindi with her & because this is unusual & makes me like a show at the circus to them she calls over her brother & the lady from the vendor across the aisle. They are asking the usual questions-“Where are you from? Why are you here? Where are you staying? Are you married or single?” I am used to this & am answering accordingly. One of the women says “I have a son. I want you to meet him.” I know what this means & I reply “No thank you.” Of course she is insistent, a popular trait among Indian women :) She is literally pulling my arm to have me meet her son, so I have to get “American” on her and say “Really, I am in Fiji to work, not get married. I don’t want to meet anyone.” She softly acquiesces and lets go of my arm & then makes a quick call on her cell phone that ends with “Jaldi aao.” Which means, come quick. Oh shit, here it comes, I just found myself in the middle of an “arrangement” in the middle of the damn market! The son comes up and the mother says “Talk to her.” The boy pauses, looks at me and then looks at his mom and says “About what?” The mother grits her teeth and elbows her son and says “Speak in Hindi, talk to her!” I am MORTIFIED and am standing in front of this kid nearly 10 years my junior and thinking “run, ruuuun!!” Alas, the tension breaks and the mother angrily tells her son to leave as if he blew it. Then she squarely looks at me and in all seriousness says “So, do you want to marry him?” I can’t hold in my laughter and then adamantly proclaim to her “In my culture this is not how we do it! No, I don’t want to marry your son, I don’t want to marry anyone now!” She follows, veeeery casually and relaxed as if nothing horrific just transpired “Okay, come back around soon and we can speak more Hindi.”

It’s been a while since I’ve written; the reason being-life has been stormy seas, rough waters, low tides. The past 3 months have not been all rainbows and puppies as one’s Face Book pictures may suggest.

It started with the culture shock of coming back to 3rd world living after being in the salsa dancing, yoga doing, amazing food eating hedonistic pleasures of Melbourne. Followed by political/financial issues at work, multiple health issues (maybe a bacteria?, maybe a parasite?), followed by the worst blow of all, my best friend here, Zoe, was heading back to America for good. She gave it her best effort, but in the end she made the very challenging choice to leave, as she realized she was not going to be able to reach her fullest potential in Fiji. Zoe was my soft place to land at the end of a rough day. We spoke almost every night. She is the kind of person you click with immediately; you see life through the same set of glasses, you live by the same philosophies and she didn’t judge. She was a true soul sister.

AND then to top it all off, I have to move…..again…..my 4th time since I came to Lautoka. Sigh….

No one wants to read Peace Corps Fiji turned country song, but it would be a big fat, shit-hitting-the-fan lie if all I wrote about were pina coladas and sculpted Fijian men. So I’m doing my best to cope during the hard times, realizing that with my former coping mechanisms not around (yoga, salsa, family) one must deal with it in other means….I’m still figuring out what those are!

In other news: I have been chipping away at my CD & have almost all of the music lined up to practice & then hopefully record in late June. I recently wrote a song called “Hugs Not Drugs”. I was walking to the bus stand on my way to work & a guy had a shirt on that said that & I thought, “Yes, I will write a catchy tune that children all across Fiji will sing. They will stop sniffing glue & smoking weed & will run around hugging each other instead.” Perhaps that’s a smidge Utopian, but whatever, the song still rocks.

I’ve also decided it would be a good project to re-establish the library at my primary school. It’s a major project!! I love to read & there are resources in the US where I can get free books. Hopefully the teachers are on board & we can make it a success.

I recently wrote 3 chapters for a values based parenting guide. I felt TOTALLY hypocritical writing them because I don’t have kids! But my boss asked me to do it, so I did.

I finally found a great Hindi tutor! I go to their house every week, we chat and have tea, have my lesson & then eat dinner together. It’s awesome. They really love me, they treat me just like family except for wait on me like a regal guest. Its been 6 weeks now & my Hindi is definitely improving, a most challenging yet rewarding endeavor. I totally busted this kid walking past me talking to his friends in Hindi saying I was hot, hahahahah. Of course he didn’t know I understood & when I said thank you in Hindi he got totally embarrassed and was apologizing.

My most recent brain-child is to create a yoga DVD. PCV Fiji Yoga DVD! I enlisted a very talented video camera aficionado volunteer & we are going to record on the beach front outside their house (actually grass hut). It is going to be VERY basic & the point is that it can be used by volunteers themselves, by PC staff & for volunteers to use in their villages for wellness projects or women's groups etc. I also want to include a special feature of some basic things to do for kid’s yoga & some fun partner work as well as a simple 5-10 minute meditation. I hope to start working on it in Dec.

Finally, about a month ago I got a bike. I have never seen a woman riding a bike in my fair town, ever. So as I was blissfully joy-riding my bike down a dangerous pot hole ridden street a Fijian man running toward me, looked at me and said “freeeaaakkkyyyy”. Apparently no one else has ever seen a woman riding a bike in this city either. I am a spectacle! People literally stop what they are doing to watch me ride my bike. It’s hilarious! Maybe I’ll start a trend. Forget about bra burning, its women’s liberation through bicycle!

Welcome to the Land of OZ (as the locals call it). It’s a magical place, that reminds me of home. It has hot showers and air conditioning. Salsa dancing and yoga studios. It has educated men that know how to flirt & grocery stores and Kmarts. Yes, my friends you have come with me on my most exciting journey back to a developed country. Welcome to Melbourne Australia. .

I went to Melbourne in mid-January on a much needed holiday. I was traveling alone for the first time & found it to be a most enjoyable experience. There were definitely times when I wished I had someone to share my joy with, but it was really awesome not have to worry about anyone else hunger or sleep schedule.

I Couch Surfed. There is an international website called couch surfing & you sign up, set up a profile & try to find someone in the city you will be staying in that has similar interests to show you the lay of the land, to hang out with & to crash at their place all at no charge. I had a pleasant experience with a most generous host who used his Iphone like an Inspector Gadget tool of omniscience.

My sole purpose on this magical journey was to go salsa dancing & do yoga. I researched the main things I wanted to do before I got there but otherwise had no real plan.

The first place I went to was the Queen Victoria market in North Melbourne. It was stupendous! I spent 4 hours there. I started by sampling 6 different wines from this very innovative spot called Re-Wine. He makes & bottles his own wines & if you bring his bottle back you can re-fill it at a discounted price. He gives you generous pours of anything you want to taste so after about 30 minutes I had a healthy buzz at the ripe hour of 10am. Following that I ate peaches, nectarines, grapes, hummus, marinated mussels and olives. A heavenly assortment of all things I miss while in Fiji.

The first night I went dancing I had a lovely dance with a man named Marco. He was from Mexico, grew up in L.A. & was now living in Melbourne. I told him I was from the US, he said “Which place?” I replied, “Ohio.” He said, “Oh really, my wife is from Cleveland.” I couldn’t believe!! Where is she!? He brought her over, we had a great chat & became fast friends. The next night I went dancing and was asked to dance by an Indian fellow. I asked him where he was from & he said Fiji. In Hindi, I said “Really? Which place?” He said, “Lautoka.” What?! “I live in Lautoka!” There was another friend of his there as well, also from Lautoka. SO here I am in Melbourne with a new friend from Cleveland, and 2 other friends from my new home town of Lautoka. Really incredible.

You know what else was incredible? The dancing. I love salsa dancing more than words can express. It simply makes me feel alive. I almost wept on the dance floor I was so overjoyed & elated while being spun to loud shoulder-shimmying conga rhythms. I was in bliss. It had been 9 months since I stepped on the dance floor & I was concerned I had lost my mambo mojo, alas, it was if I had never stopped. I could be myself again! Rocking out my fishnet stockings & stilettos. I was so graciously accepted into their dancing community & now have a whole new group of friends that I can visit any time.

I went back to the North Melbourne on a Wed. night for what is called Night Market. They clear out the veggies & bring in isles and isles of local crafted good, art, jewelry, cheap junk and tons of FOOD! There is food from all over the world. Spanish, Mexican, Middle Eastern, French…..including sangria, gelato, fudge, cupcakes and of course it wouldn’t be Melbourne without the coffee. I had a generous serving of paella with clams, mussels and shrimp. I ate my lemon meringue cupcake with frosting so light it could have dissolved in mid-air, before my dinner :) There were 2 stages with live music & hundreds of people eating, drinking and jamming to the cool grooves. I had so much fun that night! I stumbled upon an amazing musician named Grace Barbe performing. She called her music Afro-Creol as she is from the Seychelles Islands off the coast of Madagascar. I call it sexy, spiritual, soulful reggae bliss. I was so in love with her music I coughed up $20 and bought the CD. Since then I have turned on at least 5 people to her sensual grooves. I would strongly encourage you to check her out.

Melbourne itself is a bustling cosmopolitan city. There are small cafes and boutiques around every corner, a real haven for entrepreneurialism. This was a very refreshing contrast to the suffocating Starbucks and McDonalds chains of my homeland. There are museums and an obvious support for the arts. The public transport was so easy to use, trains and trams running regularly all over the city & suburbs. I easily became a pro within a few days. Melbourne is also unofficially known as Australia’s foodie town. I traveled into the city or surrounding suburbs everyday and generously ate my way through. In Lygon St. I filled myself with a fresh salad nicoise, studded with marinated olives and chilled potatoes followed by a silkend scoop of honeycomb gelato. In St Kilda I snacked on fresh cherries and pistachios while I rode my bike down the sea shore. In S. Melbourne, I indulged in the national fair of fish and chips with a liberal splash of vinegar, a throw back to my love of french fries drowning in vinegar from the carnival days of my youth. Downtown, I had a lamb burger on a gluten free bun with arugula and a mint pesto mayo-genius! I made a friend on the bus & she invited me out with her friends to a 6 course all vegetarian Thai meal, even the tofu was from scratch-blooming tea anyone? My last day there I devoured a buttery and crisp gluten free polenta crust pizza with peppers, tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella. I washed it down with what else-a cup of joe and an Oz favorite, the vanilla yo-yo cookie. A brilliant concoction of 2 buttery shortbread cookies with vanilla butter cream frosting in the center.

I love Melbourne. I hope to go back someday to re-connect with my new friends and enjoy the mystical wonders of ethnic food, hot running water and down pillows……..

I recently decided to do a vipassana meditation course. It is a 10 day course where you learn a style of meditation known as vipassana. It is an ancient technique that has its roots in Buddhism but is non-secular. This is taught at vipassana schools and rented venues all over the world with over 60,000 people per year attending. I’ve known about this practice for years because it is popular among the yoga scene, but thought, “No way, I could never do this.” Why? Because the entire course is in silence. No speaking for 10 days, in fact it’s so holistically introspective you don’t even make eye contact with the other participants. No speaking, reading, writing, radios, t.v., telephones…….just you and your thoughts. We take a vow of “noble silence” and off we go to sit on our arsses to practice this ancient technique 10 hours a day. Why would one put themselves through this you ask? Because the purpose of the technique is to release old habit patterns, maintain equanimous awareness (to be less reactionary) and to view the world in reality-the way it is-not the way you wished it to be. So you can see how making those shifts could be profound and life altering. It is not meant to be a holy smack to the forehead & suddenly “YOU ARE HEALED”. It’s a practice that must continuously be maintained to receive the positive changes and benefits. Our daily schedule looked like this: 4am (yes, ungodly early) Wake-up gong 4:30-6:30am Meditate in the hall or your own room 6:30-7:30am Breakfast (oatmeal everyday..was yummy from day 1-4 then 5-10 I never wanted it again!) 7:30-8:30am break 8:30-9:30am Mandatory group meditation in the hall 9:30-11am Meditate in the hall or your own room (come on-we all know if you go back to your room you’re not meditating…yes, you could hear ppl snoring) 11-12pm Lunch (the food was awesome! Clean and delicious, all vegetarian, I ate close to vegan for 10 days straight) 12-1pm Break 1-2:30pm Meditate in your room or hall 2:30-3:30pm Mandatory group meditation in the hall 3:30-5pm Meditate in your room or hall 5pm Tea (that’s right NO dinner…booooooo…Only tea and fruit-papaya everyday, I still cant eat it) 6-7pm Mandatory group meditation in the hall 7-8:30pm Video discourse by the teacher (S.N. Goenka, giving depth to the lineage & teachings, they were funny, encouraging and very helpful) 8:30-9pm Meditation 9-9:30pm Shower 9:30-10pm Lights out The course is ALL donation based…..whatever you can give. Of course they ask you for a donation AFTER the course is over and you’re all blessed out & in love with love & feel like giving everything you have away :) There were about 15 women and 7 men. Ranging in age from early 20’s –early 60’s. Australian, Indian, Fijian, Burmese, American, Canadian…….everyone wants bliss apparently. Meditating is tough, we know this. Try it in the sweltering cauldron that is Fiji in the summer-for 3 hours at a time. Good luck not moving through the stinging, prickling of sweat as your body heat rises…..and mosquitoes. Everybody’s experience is unique because our own baggage is unique, so for me Day 1 was the longest most boring day of my life. Day 2 I was in so much pain from sitting I almost started crying. I remember the teacher saying take a 5 minute break & come back for further instructions. I was thinking, what does that mean....please let her say something like "Now, you may go play volleyball or take a swim".........when we came back & she said "you may meditate in the hall or in your own room", that's when I realized "you wont be doing ANYTHING but meditating"..ahhhhhhhhhhhhh Day 3 went against the wall, relief! No speaking not a problem, mind is slowing down and I can concentrate and not move for a longer period of time. However, my blood sugar was so low from no dinner I almost had a blood sugar induced meditation…it’s called passing out. Day 4 Had a deep trippy healing meditation, walked out of the hall in a zone barefoot into the grass. (there is no possible way to describe how you feel when you go through this) By day 7 I’m ready to blow the joint. If I have to sit on my arss for 1 more day it will be callused like a baboon bum.……..Day 8, 9, 10, the trip continues… I did it with my closest friend in Fiji, another volunteer named Zoe. On the day we could finally speak I ran out into the grassy field & did a running leaping splits in the air and then ran to her and gave her a huge hug as we giggled like crazy people and tears of joy, bliss and relief rolled down my cheeks. Really glad I did it & I would strongly recommend it to anyone, however can’t say I will be doing it again…not the full 10 days anyway, for old students there is a 4 day course I think I could handle.

My toosh has since healed.

As the Christmas season is upon us multiple packages of amazingness are coming to my local post office. I have become friendly with the lovely Fijian woman and the chatty Indo-Fijian fellow that work there. They are familiar with Peace Corps volunteers and the joy that the unexpected packages bring. When I checked my small post office box this afternoon and saw a slip inside I was delighted and ran to the postal counter. I greeted them in Hindi and they give a boisterous reply with pride that someone from America is learning their language. We chat for a bit and ask each other what we will be doing for the upcoming holidays. We go through the simple customs procedures and are laughing all the while. It is summer now & rains nearly every day, so not surprisingly while I was there clouds began to glide in and the wind began to gust. So in Hindi I say “panii awaay”, meaning literally “water is coming”, or actually, rain is coming. And the mid-forties, friendly, Indo-Fijian post man is silent for a moment and says “you need to be careful when you say that.” I was thinking huh? That is a common phrase I hear all of the time, I did not understand what he meant. So the conversation goes something like this: Postman: “You have to be careful when you say that because sometimes people might think water is coming from another place.” Me: “Ohhh, you mean it means you have to pee? Well, I didn’t know that. I guess if people know that, oh well, maybe they will be friendly enough to show me where the bathroom is.” Postman: “No, not that.” (He leans in and gently places a hand on my forearm and says quietly), “It means you are close to climaxing.” Me: (Fairly horrified, laughing hysterically and three shades of red, hiding my face in my bag.) “Ohhhhh, that’s what you mean. Glad I know that now!” In the future I will be more cautious when I announce “PANII AWAAY!!!!” As I leave the post office with my new found cultural knowledge and Christmas package, I see a cute little kitten (which they call “pussies”). There are stray animals all over the place here, so this was not a surprise. I have wanted a cat & was giving this cutie some love, deciding if I wanted to take her home & make her mine. As I was leaning down petting her a man walked by and said “Nice pussy, is it yours?”

It rained & consequently the critters that live outside don’t like this. So, they decide to seek refuge in my house. Last night my house became Noah’s ark. As I was eating dinner I had an itch on my ankle, it turned out a little gecko had decided to take a rest on my foot. Woooow…fling! Get off of me! Later, I was getting out of the shower and because my bathroom is so tiny I have to dry off with the door open. In my nakedness & blindness because I had no glasses on, I saw 2 blurred living creatures scurry across my living room. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shiiiiiit!!! What do I do??!! I through on a sulu & went to my landlord’s house directly attached to the front of mine. I yelled for the young boy to come help me. I told him I saw two rats run across my living room & then into my bedroom & I needed help getting them out. So he, only being 11, is also afraid of rats. Never-the-less, he comes along with his 10 year old sister and their Japanese foreign exchange student, each armed with a yard stick, broom and rake. We look all over the house & the rats are gone. I suspected they were just in hiding, but we shook boxes and pulled out luggage and there was no sign. My hunters leave and I sit back down and who shows up into Noah’s ark but a frog in my kitchen!! Ahhhhhh! They don’t scare me as much, but they jump and are fast. This one, in my attempt to exterminate, goes into a cabinet & behind my gas cooking cylinder. I yet again call for my SWAT team to come help. I call for the boy & he very seriously says “This time we come in full force!” All three come armed with their weaponry of animalistic destruction & we go to work in my kitchen. Then out of the corner of my peripheral vision….I see a rat run across my bedroom floor and into a small hole in the corner of the room. We all run in & I grab roach poison & spray it in the whole & then shove newspaper in to block it. Then I see the other rat run out & into the kitchen. The Japanese man takes the rake & traps it in the tongs while the boy tries to kill it with the broom. I’m screaming, the boy is swearing and the Japanese man is yelling in broken English, “Oh sheeet, I got the srat!!” The rat does not die, but runs out & the Japanese man hits it like a hockey puck out the open front door. Whew!! Now back to the medock (frog). He is in the same spot deep within the cabinet. We, I should say the young boy, uses the yard stick to scare it out, opens the back door & out it jumps. Okay, can I let my adrenaline dissipate now?? Everyone had such a fun time navigating the little creatures. The kids kept saying “This is such an adventure!” as they ran around with a broom and my headlamp on their heads. I wish I had taken a picture of all three of them with their artillery in my teeny kitchen trying to look for the rats. It was awesome and hilarious! That same night as I lay in bed there was a bujan or Indian prayer celebration at a neighbor’s house. They play drums and percussion and chant the name of whichever Lord they are devoting their time. After, they have prasad, a small plate of blessed food, mostly fruit and sweets. I’ve been to several of these events and actually enjoy them. You can hear bujans going on almost every night. So tonight there is lively bujan going on a few houses away and at my landlord’s house…… he is playing the guitar and singing We are the World into a microphone with his family. Occasionally, he would miss or a chord or sing off key & they would stop & start over. What the hell is happening??!! Where am I? Is this the Twilight Zone?? I texted a friend this scenario and her reply……...Yes. Yes it is. Welcome. So tonight, again it rained. As I was cooking dinner (eggplant & roasted tomatoes with garlic and chilies over rice pasta), I saw a little rat run across the kitchen drawers & heard that little F-er in my silverware drawer. I screamed & jumped when I saw it & my body produced probably the last little bit of adrenaline it has left from my already over-exhausted adrenals. I kicked a few cabinets & made some noise hoping it would be scared back outside and I never saw it again. Then, while I was eating dinner, a HUGE flying cockroach went from ground to wall!! Ahhhhhh!! I truly don’t know which are worse, rats or cockroaches. Those winding little antennae just gross me out, eeeeeeuuuhhhhh. I got up from dinner & grabbed my tennis shoe, chased it around my living room & eventually was victorious in the crunching of carapace. I sat back down in front of my meal, thoroughly repulsed, but starving, so once again the word “de-tach” becomes my mantra and living life prevails.

We had 2 arduous weeks of mandatory Peace Corps training, part of which involved a self designed workshop. Myself and 6 other volunteers had 2.5 days to put together a 2 hour presentation on stigma and discrimination against AIDS/HIV and mental health patients in the work place. We presented to a group of 45 young nursing students. We put together a power point, did roles plays and several group activities. The students were so eager and engaged and it was very fulfilling for us to know that we were making a difference in these young impressionable minds.

I stayed in Suva with another volunteer that had an oven……Haaaaa-lle-lu-jah!! I made roasted chicken with ratatouille the first night and the second night, I made a variation of my grandma's sweet potatoes and apples. They don’t have sweet potatoes here they have kumala-a little starchier and not quite as sweet, but still mimics well. You slice the sweet potatoes and apples into thin discs and then alternately layer them. Between each layer you sprinkle a bit of sugar, cinnamon and a few dabs of butter. Add a bit of water, cover and bake for 1 hour on 350ish until everything has melted into each other and you lose your mind in comfort food bliss. Not having an oven bums me out, but there are worse things in life not to have....let’s say a limb for example.....I've got all those so there’s nothing to really complain about.

After training I headed home to Lautoka. This was the first time I had taken this winding hilly trip back at night & I had my head hanging out the window like a dog, smelling the thick damp air, so salty and fresh. The silhouetted palms acted like pillars along the road and I watched the stars move as the cab traveled at galactic speeds while listening to the perfect randomly selected playlist as my ipod shuffled.

Back at home mission #1 was move to my new place!! It’s been a long time in the works and took 2.5 months (were on Fiji time folks) to finally get everything together. It’s a small self-contained flat attached to a house at the front. My landlord, his wife and 2 kids, 12 and 13 live there. They are a very friendly Indian family and I can tell *LOVE* having an American living in their rental. It is a 20 minute walk into town or a 15 minute bus ride and is a 15 minute walk to the nearest volunteer. The compound is safe and has a gate all the way around with barbed wire on top of that, as most houses do in the cities here. I think the best way to describe my house would be 1970’s Los Angeles ghetto, accompanied by hundreds of tiny little ants and complete with cockroaches. I was sitting at the table and a stealth bomber sized cockroach scurried across the floor; I squished it straight away with my flip flop & proceeded to freak out at the horrific nature of it all.

My house itself is very small. One bedroom, a moderate size living room that has been broken into 2 rooms by a useless partition wall, a very tiny kitchen and a small bathroom with a toilet, sink and broom closet sized shower. I have running water most of the day, but only cold and have electricity all of the time. I have no refrigerator which really sucks, because it means more trips to the market and cooking every meal from scratch. I hope to acquire a mini-fridge in the next few weeks. However, I do have a 2 burner gas stove top (think glorified camping stove) which rrrrrocks! Previously all I had was 1 electric skillet. Now I can whip up all kinds of deliciousness.

I had to buy everything for my house as all that was in it was a bed, table and 1 lone chair. Pots, silverware, dishes, buckets, cleaning agents (more on that later), etc. This place has been vacant for at least 3 months & I don’t know how long the previous tenant lived here but oh my lord it is filthy. Buckets and buckets of filth. I went through an entire bottle of disinfecting cleaning soap in 1 day. I’m talking the kind of filth where you need to wash walls, grimy light switches and the underneath side of shelves. I think most people would say that joining the Peace Corps takes courage and I know that going through a divorce took a lot of courage but really, cleaning my new bathroom took even more. Layers and layers of someone else’s funk.....I literally had to mentally prepare myself for this task. I was on hands and knees like Cinderella scrubbing walls, floors, every square inch I could reach. After getting stoned on bleach fumes and working up a sweat for nearly two hours, I finished. I contemplated burning the clothes I wore while cleaning that room.

For the first time in my life I am living alone, something I have wanted to experience for a long time. I have inexhaustible lists of things I would like to do to this place including setting up a yoga room and planting a garden....I’ve got 2 years why not. I’m getting used to all of the new sounds of my new environment; the cacophony of birds in the mango tree next to my bedroom window, the cat meowing outside and as I sit and write this there is a group of Indians a few houses away banging on drums, shaking tambourines and chanting loudly in honor of this week’s special puja (prayer).

I went for a walk the other day in the early evening sun. There were only a few people taking walks just before dinner and the street traffic was quiet. Even though I had never walked down that stretch of street in my new neighborhood, there was a comforting familiarity. The trees, bushes and the cement or corrugated tin houses look the same all over Fiji. I realized, I finally experienced the comfort of the familiar in Fiji. Everything didn’t look and feel so new. For the first time, it felt like home and not just an extended stay.

I took my first “holiday” as they call it here, to the Yasawa Islands. You take a 4.5 hr ferry ride from Port Denerau passing several minuscule islands that have been capitalized on by building resorts to cater to both backpackers and those toasting to champagne wishes and caviar dreams. I stayed with my friend Zoe in her Fijian village called Nacua (pronounced Nathua). These islands are exactly what you picture when you think of Fiji. Oceans 3 shades of turquoise, with 30 feet visibility, watching schools of fish swim around you while the palms sway in the constant salty breeze. True Paradise. Until you decide to actual live like a Fijian. Zoe lives in a traditional bure. A small thatched roof hut, with no running water, no electricity but 2 hours in the evening, more ants than you’ve ever seen in your life and a plethora of the ever entertaining rats. I got to one of the most important things on my agenda as soon as I arrived-snorkeling, at a near-by resort. There was a reef that went out to sea about 2 kilometers and I swam all along that, joining the tiny electric blue fish, parrot fish, schools of small grouper, a lion fish with its poisonous striped fins fanned out, 2 giant clams, and a sapphire blue star fish 12 inches across. This ocean water is so salty that it seems as though your body defies gravity. When you try to dive down, the water, against your will, ascends you back up to the surface and makes you bob like a cork in a sea of fizzy prosecco. When Zoe and I reached her village it was raining, this is wonderful because there has been a drought that has lasted for months. However, riding on a boat getting stung in the face by little pellets of painful raindrops, not so fun. Thankfully, a lovely local named Joe, helped me carry my bags and fetch us some of the most disgusting water I have ever seen. The water comes from a bore hole, but because the water table is so low, the water is salty and also filled with shit…literally. Poop etc, gets flushed and sits in septic tanks that leak and whala....poopy water. Another reason to be grateful for the rain, as rainwater en-catchments were placed under broken gutters and by the next day they were filled to the top. Fresh rainwater for drinking, this is a reason to celebrate. This water, by the way, needs to be carried in buckets by hand from the en-catchment back to Zoe’s hut about 50 yards away. Upon arriving in a village one must do what is called a savusavu. It is a traditional offering of yanqona, also known as grog or kava. It is basically a gift of thanks for letting me stay in the village. One has to present this to the chief or someone of status. Thankfully, Joe also helped us with this as there are all kinds of things you should not do, so he helped me not make an ass of myself and offend a group of Fijians. We entered the community hall, it was lit by a single lantern that shown on 12 Fijian elders sitting around drinking kava. I was soaking wet and slightly intimidated by the suffocating amount of masculine energy. Joe did what he had to do, they spoke for a few minutes in Fijian, acknowledging, clapping, blessing etc. and asked me to get up and shake everyone’s hand…awkward..but here I go. The island is so dry and the soil is so sandy that almost nothing grows, so if you want to eat produce you have to bring it from the mainland, but because there is no refrigeration and the constant competition of rats and ants, nothing lasts long. So Zoe and I got to work on making tomato chutney for dinner. We were tired and wet and finally went to bed, swearing, laughing and kind of scared at the sound of rats having a disco in her kitchen and also because we both had such horrible heartburn we couldn’t sleep. We found a single piece of gum to share & that solved that issue. I think two of the most soothing things to sleep to are the sound of rain and the sound of waves, and much to my delight, that night, I had both. Wednesday night Zoe & I were invited to a gunu sede (pronounced newnew senday). It is a community grog session where you buy other people bilos (coconut shells you drink the kava from) of grog to raise money, this one was to raise money for a young man to go to high school. It was fun, culturally rich and slightly awkward because they had us sit in front so everyone could watch every move we make & you have to be careful who you buy for or else they may think you also have other intentions in mind like marriage…….better to stick to just buying for women…… I was invited to lunch the next day at a local’s house. On the menu-Land Crabs steamed in a curry broth, Boiled Cassava, and lolo (coconut milk) with lemon. These land crabs are somewhat small & hard to manage, so I had a young village woman sit next to me & act as my personal crab cracker. The meat is tender and sweet and tastes amazing soaked in the rich lolo, salted and dressed with lemon juice. The cassava sops up the broth & afterward you are ready for a nap. I failed to take a picture of this eating event, but honestly I don’t think a photo would have been able to capture the culinary anthropological intensity of the moment. There were 4 men, sitting separate from us women, eating their meals. While the hosts sat with us (myself, my volunteer friend Megan and 2 people she works with), the hosts did not eat. They simply enjoyed watching us devour their offerings and listening to our praise and thanks. Later that day myself, Zoe and Megan hiked through rugged volcanic rocks and jungle to arrive at our very own private beach in front of Malakati village. A long horseshoe shaped stretch of soft white sandy beach all to ourselves. We took a quick dip in the crystal waters accompanied by a dusk sky and then headed back. I spent 2 nights at a backpacker lodge/resort called Oarsman’s Bay. It’s a 45 minute rugged hike through trail and beach, and Zoe did all of this with my suitcase balanced on her head like an African tribal woman carry a monstrous bag of rice. Zoe is a warrior. Her living situation is basically like rough’n it camping…try that for 2 years. We arrived at the resort just in time for a game of volley ball with the men from her village that work at the resort, followed by a quick sea dip and then got ready for an amazing show of dancing, a traditional lovo dinner and hermit crab racing. We met a group of very interesting tourists from a grad school in Melbourne, Australia. They were studying the effects of tourism in developing countries. One of the men, Juan from Chile, danced salsa; so I lucked out, grabbed my ipod, got a few dances in and to show off a little. It was great sweaty fun. Another gentleman, that I got to spend far too little time with, was named Marko. The kind you roll the R, Marrrrko, (pause for intensity)from Montenegro ( I didn’t know where it was either…..Middle East Mediterranean, along the Adriatic Sea). Yes, he’s tall, dark and devilishly good looking with the accent to match. The kind of guy trashy novels are written about, women brag about meeting and hope to meet again. One thing I love about traveling like this is the exotic people you meet and hearing their stories and how it eventually leads to them having the very conversation you are sharing. Now that I have a dozen new friends in Melbourne it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where my next holiday will be. All good things must come to an end and alas so did my holiday. I went kayaking for 90 minutes with Zoe outside of the sparkling waters of the resort and literally watched my skin turn 3 shades darker even with sunscreen on. Zoe was a great host, the hotel was more than generous, the tourist group was exciting and I hiked, ate, swam, snorkeled, played volleyball, danced, kayaked, laid in hammocks star gazing and rejuvenated my spirit. Next holiday….hmmmmm…..I’m feeling Melbourne. Dancing, yoga, shopping, eating…my favorite things to do all over the world.

I’ve been getting that question a lot lately & decided to respond. I am working for the Sathya Sai Institute, a sector of a Sai Baba organization in Lautoka, Fiji. Sai Baba is a spiritual figure that governs a set of his own beliefs that is respected & practiced globally beginning in 1947. The main project the Institute needs me for is to produce a music cd that teaches what they call Universal Human Values including Love, Peace, Right Action, Truth & Non-violence, so basically yogic principles. This is totally bitch’n, b/c the spiritual principles are what I believe, however on the flip side of this I am FAR from a singer- song writer. My job is to write & produce music etc. and thankfully, I have already enlisted other PC volunteers to help in this musical endeavor so that I don’t make a complete & utter ass of myself. The Institute that governs the school is very unique because it urges other schools to teach these Human Values in their schools & incorporate them into their curriculum. Traditional learning focuses mostly on left brain learning & this instigates the right brain….feelings, emotions, spirituality etc. to be developed and balanced. Right on. I have been tirelessly working on a resource book for secondary school teachers that incorporates adding these human values into their established curriculum.

Creating one smart little loving Buddha at a time.

The resource book has quotes, stories, activities and visualization exercises that focus on a specific value, for example compassion. I edit stories, compose the activities, include questions and write the visualizations as well. This is a massive endeavor for the Institute & I am happy to help. They appreciate my “American” view point & thanks to having an English teacher as a mom my English skills are pretty good. I also got together a composting area. The school that the institute governs is extraordinary & is a pilot for many others. They teach composting in their curriculum & because of that it was very easy to work on getting that done. So with myself, 5 students, 2 teachers & the grounds keeper we built a 3 sectioned compost with corrugated tin, sawed up logs, nails, a cane knife and a hammer….oh yes & sweat. In an hour and a half it was done and there are all kinds of delightful things rotting in it already! The school has a working garden that a garden club is in charge of & they take home veges to their families when it is time to harvest. So our compost goodies will now act as fertilizer for the garden.

There are 30 min yoga classes once per week that are for the older kids. I have taught a couple of times when the other teacher was out of town. I’ve never loved teaching kids yoga and this group is so big, around 35, that I find myself disciplining more than teaching and its just flat out exhausting. But it is nice to still be teaching.

The director of the institute was interested in making virgin coconut oil & another volunteer has been working on that as her main project, so I got the instructions from her & we will start making VCO as soon as the resource book is finished. I’m really excited about that because coconut oil is wonderful for you and is kind of expensive…..cheap compared to US prices but expensive for my PC budget. The process is done using very basic-mostly recycled materials-and we hope to provide a workshop to the teachers and parents of the students to educate them on how to make it , use it and possibly start a little coconut oil business of their own as it is becoming increasingly popular.

The head master of the school was interested in recycling paper instead of burning it & I found instructions on how to make paper from paper. Like the thick grainy kind that sometimes has flowers pressed in it for like $5 a sheet in the states…now all of you know what you are getting for Christmas :) The technology is simple and cheap & all ages of kids can participate so this will also be a fun and rewarding project. Finally, I met Milt Nelms, Int’l swim coach and husband to 5 time medalist Australian Olympian Shane Gould. We met at a local pool where he was conducting a swim lesson to teach gym teachers in training how to swim themselves & also how to teach swimming. The S. Pacific has a huge drowning rate & Milt is implementing a maverick style swim training to help educate & prevent. So I went to the pool & observed & met him & Shane & had dinner & talked about future projects I could assist with around the island. There is a ton of work potential here & I am lucky to have so many opportunities and such great people to work with. My work environment is laid back, we get to work at 8:30am, have tea at 10:30am, lunch at 1pm & leave at 3pm. Unfortunately none of these projects involve snorkeling or the beach, but that will come later as I am going to visit my BFFF-best friend forever Fiji….(I know its totally juvenile, but I was really tired when I came up with it) in the Yasawas, the islands where the movie Blue lagoon was filmed….circa 1980…think 15 yr old Brooke Shields be-bopping around naked..yes that one. It’s totally gorgeous and I am welcoming the brake from the city, buses, exhaust etc.I'm missing the comforts and familiarity of home, and friends and family so much.xoxox

I have been in Lautoka now for 1 month, it has been quit rocky. Adjusting to a new environment and schedule was extraordinarily challenging. I am living with a roommate in a very small 2 bedroom flat and have 2 foam mats on the floor for a bed….I really miss my chiropractor. I am living in the 2nd largest city in Fiji with a population of 53,000. That was my first adjustment actually, living in an urban environment…not what I had envisioned or wanted when I was signing up for Peace Corps. I was thinking more like hut-living along the beach, questionable water quality & random electricity. Not so. I have a concrete house with a solar powered hot water tank, electricity all of the time-however, I only have water from 4am-8am & 4pm-8pm…that can be rough when you are trying to hand wash clothes in the middle of the day. I was daydreaming more rainforest jungle than concrete jungle. I have neighbors very close on all sides, an Indian family at the back & left, Rotuman in the front & Fijian on the right. Possibly the worst part of the city is the burning trash. Burning trash is a regular practice which has been recently deemed illegal, but of course is un-regulated so it still goes on everywhere all of the time. In the village they most often burned trash away from the houses, here we live right on top of each other & I just so happen to live on top of a hill so all of the smoke rises…yeah!! My liver is doing its best to process the fumes. On an up note, the people here are truly friendly. I was invited to a party at a Rotuman family’s house. (Rotuma: a small island a 36 hour boat trip north of Fiji, there is no bank, post office etc, that small. It is part of the Polynesian Islands with their own culture and language separate from Fiji.) We talked and ate & danced while they played the guitar and drank kava. Their laugh registers on the Richter scale it’s so bountiful..awesome! More and more people have been inviting me to their home’s, teas and parties. This means a lot because I didn’t realize how important having a social life was to me. In Cleveland I was always going to a yoga class, a friend’s party, a salsa event or family occasion, starting all of that from scratch in Fiji is not easy. Not easy, but slowly happening. Last weekend I was feeling very homesick. I missed my Mom, Dad, sisters, niece, nephew and friends. So I decided to go back to my host family’s house in Naqio and stay the weekend. It was exactly what I needed. They were so happy to see me!! It had only been 3 weeks & they treated me like royalty. So many people were coming over to ask me how things were going on my own, giving me hugs and demanding I eat at their house. I went to see a movie with my sister, slept in a real bed (hallelujah), had my mom feed me 3 amazing meals per day & learned how to make imlii ke chutney-tamarind chutney. That weekend of caring was a much needed juicing up of my spirit. I realized I was missing the feeling of being loved. Below is one of my famed “lists”. I was forever being teased by my Mom and friends about my numerous lists and here is another one….. Things I’ve noted about Fiji, Lautoka City & Myself

Older men color their hair…..apparently going grey is Universally unfashionable Many people, mostly Fijian men, go shoeless all over town, the bus, stores, everywhere. Sometimes I think by choice, sometimes b/c they don’t have shoes. The decibel level of the music on buses is more than my delicate eardrums can handle. It’s hard to find a moment of silence around here: dogs, cars, tv’s, every store has music playing outside of it, as if that were going to lure me in, when it actually does the opposite. The Fijians have their own way of communicating without words. Clicks, whistles, head nods, hand gestures, eyebrow raises for yes & no (good luck figuring that one out). Unless you’re a native, you’ll never really now all of these subtleties. Men that smell good really stick out…mmeeeeooowwww The Fijian way of asking “how are you?” is “where are you going?” The kids read the national newspaper. Young men get up on the bus to let older women sit down. The simplest things like flax seeds or a “new” used shirt can make my day when I’m missing home. It takes time for a new place to feel like home. Total strangers (in my case a cab driver) invite you to stay with their family on other islands. (I might do it.) There is a serious untapped market for Fijian male models. The furniture patterns are from the 1970’s-plush maroon paisley anyone? Re-mixed, burned, dubbed, pirated, re-recorded music is all the norm & no one seems to care. Waiting is something you just have to get used to. Complete lack of customer service is something you just have to get used to. Half of the people wear clothes that in no way come even close to matching & they obviously could care less. The faux hawk has made it to Fiji....Indians wear it & the Fijian men rock Fro-hawks with tails, yes that’s right, the “tail” , I’m sorry to inform you, has made it back into style. For being so close to the equator it actually does get cool here. Its winter now & gets into the low 60’s at night. Most of the people in this city have trash pick up-4 times per week-yet they still choose to burn it..right next to my F#*^ing house. I wonder if burning plastic will ever smell good? Life and work are progressing and adjusting. Looking forward to trips and events keep me positive. xoxoxox

Photos may speak a thousand words but when they are posted on FaceBook they have usually been very carefully selected to not make myself look fat or to display an environment that is reality but ridiculously joyful. However, this obviously doesn’t cover the not-so-awesome behind the scenes moments. The ones where I miss my Mom and the comforts of the familiar and having my closest friends to talk me down are lacking. So in an effort to keep this Peace Corps experience a reflection of reality, but not too much of a bitch fest, here are a few examples. I made sure no one took a photo of me to be posted to the Universe when I had a 101 degree fever, was sweating through clothes & shitting myself inside out for 2 full days. I surmise this sickness occurred because I regrettably did not wash a pear and carrot that I had eaten earlier that day. Lesson learned. Interestingly, I am finding the Indo-Fijians to be very superstitious as my host Mom was telling me that I was sick from too much admiration. She said I needed to put a black dot behind my ear to protect myself from people telling me how much they dig me. Interesting & duly noted. There will be no photos of me when I woke from a horrible nightmare at 3:30am & couldn’t shake off the fear. Additionally, no photos will appear of me when I was on the cusp of utter emotional & mental bankruptcy after having several 14 hour days, language tests, homework & community presentations. I promise, that was not pretty. Alas, a few good night’s sleep & doing some shopping in Suva for my upcoming move to Lautoka, where I will be spending the next 2 years, did the trick to bring me out of my funk. It is very interesting how I have witnessed myself reacting to certain things totally different & I know that the Fijian context has everything to do with it. For example, the pre-historic sized cockroaches that come out at night that climb on the counter while I brush my teeth..…not even phased. If this happened in the US I would have grabbed the heaviest object & splashed its guts straight away. Today when I was putting on my socks I noticed blood on the sole of my foot that had been acquired from the chicken that was killed the night before for dinner. Awesome. Or how about the spider that was in my bedroom that had the leg span of a softball…..no worries. My host sister says, don’t worry they have their own home. Okay then, hopefully it doesn’t make it through my mosquito net later. Not even the little mouse that was climbing down the light cord in my kitchen raised an alarm. Thankfully, I think I managed my expectations of Fijian creatures fairly well. To keep this PC experience even remotely possible, focusing on the negative doesn’t do me any good. However, it reminds me that I have fortitude & really allows me to enjoy the pleasure of the good times. Like the “Indo-lovo-disco” we had last night as a going away for us here in the settlement. We had a traditional lovo……think Hawaiian luau-dig a pit, place in hot coals/rocks, chicken-fish-casava-dalo on top, cover it up, 1.5 hrs later, uncover & consume the deliciousness. We ate, danced & laughed. All of us, young and old; a cross-cultural, cross-gender, cross-age-range throw down. A local tv station, Fiji 1, came around & filmed some volunteers in the villages while we were in class, yours truly starred on the 6:30pm news speaking Hindi. Right set (which means something like great, cool, good). I especially enjoy walking down the long road in front of my house. It is lined with palm trees & since this a rural area, there are plenty of horses and cows moving around on the land. Sometimes it reminds me of the farm land in Ohio, I never expected that. The people that walk by are always saying Bula & ask me where I am going. Or sometimes I catch a few kids along the way & they come with. I will be leaving the rural road behind me & moving to Lautoka town, the second largest city in Fiji. I am anxious to get settled in, learn where the markets are, practice my language, get to some serious cooking and start my work. I’m also planning my first trip to visit my friend in the Yasawa Islands, the location where the movie Blue lagoon was filmed. Right on. Until next time. Fir Milenga (see you again) Love, SaraMy new address, i moved to Lautoka on July 7thSara SzunyoghPO Box 4166Lautoka, Fiji Islands

I thought I would post what a typical day is like for me in Fiji during training.

6:15am Wake-up (to the sound of roosters & this very strange habit that many Indo-Fijians have...when they brush their teeth they make this gagging/hacking up a lung sound. The first time I heard it I thought my host sister was throwing up.)

6:30am Go for a sunrise jog or try & do yoga in my room. (there is NO privacy. We jokingly call what we have the coconut wireless...literally the other people in my village know what I ate for breakfast 10 minutes after I ate it, so doing yoga outside means I have an audience.)

7:00am-8:00am Shower & eat breakfast ( Meaning I fill up a bucket with cold water (I have not felt hot water out of a faucet since I’ve been here) from a spicket inside the shower room & use a small bowl to dump water over myself to get clean. I can fill up a tea kettle & heat up water to warm up my bucket & that helps tremendously.) My mom prepares my breakfast & serves me, niiiccce. Breakfast is always roti, an unleavened flatbread & some kind of curry, pumpkin, egg, eggplant.

8-10am Language class (I am learning Hindi-Fijian. Its like broken slang Hindi- a mixture of Hindi, Fijian, English. Its held outside on the porch of the house next to mine.)

10:30am-11am Tea time (A tradition held over from British rule. Usually served with biscuits...what they call cookies.)

11-12:30pm More language (We've only got 7 weeks of training to become conversational)

12:30pm-2pm Lunch (Again, host mom is a wicked awesome cook & makes my lunch. Usually roti or rice, a different curry, left overs from dinner & a piece of fruit.)

2-3:30pm More Training (It varies from learning how to garden in this environment, to cultural differences, to learning about the water, health & trash problems in Fiji.)

3:30pm-4pm More tea & snacks (they like to eat)

4-5:30pm More Training

5:30-6:30pm Relax, go for a walk, read, talk to my family

6:30pm-7:30pm Have Dinner (Mom makes dinner too, another curry. She goes fishing everyday, so we eat fish everyday. I am happy with that.)

7:30/8pmpm-8:30/9pm Write letters, take a bucket bath (we only have running water a/b 30% of the time), talk with my family, rest, have tea

9:30pm Go to bed

On Thursdays we go into the nearest town called Nausori & have class with our entire group of 35 volunteers. On the weekends I spend time with my host family, work on homework, go into town, wash my clothes and relax.

So much love to all of you from south of the equator. And yes the water does flush down in the opposite direction :)

xoxo

Sara

Bula & Kaise!!

Hello & whats up in Fijian & Hindi! I have to keep this brief because PC has us VERY busy. I have been been assigned to an Indo-Fijian family about 30min outside of Suva.

Our days are filled with safety, cultural & language training in our host villages & in the closest main town of Nosouri. I am learning how to speak Fijian-Hindi & am doing really well.

It is hot, a/b 85 and pretty humid all of the time. However, it gets cool at night and with the aid of my mosquito net, I have been sleeping very well.

My mattajii (mom) is a rediculously amazing cook & is probably feeding me better than an other volunteer!

I had swim training the first day, the water was a welcome bath after 11 hours on a plane. The staff & other volunteers are great, there are 35 volunteers in this group.

Fiji is beautiful, however, in the rural areas the best word to describe it DESTITUTE. There is a major problem with trash and good water quality. I have to take a "bucket-shower". Literally, pouring cold water over myself from a bucket. It kind of suck, but it does the trick after sweating all day.

I will try to connect again soon & should have a phone in about 5 more weeks.

Sorry this is kind of generic, but there is way to much to share too short of a time.

Many blessings.

Achaa fir melegaa......see you again soon.

xoxox

Sara

My family gave me the Hini name of Rani (queen :)

Thousands of people from all over the world coming together at the New Jersey Int'l Salsa Congress for the love of dancing. Baila, Baila, Baila, Baila! One of the hundreds of reasons I love dancing is because, like yoga, it excludes no one. Tall, thin and sexy. Short, round and uncoordinated. All are welcome.

I won a pass to the NJ congress & flew to meet up with my friend Wardell. I danced over 20 hours in 3 days and slept for about 10. The days are filled with workshops, ranging from ladies styling, mambo turn patterns, to one of my personal favorites-afro-cuban body movement. This type of movement encompasses the energy of the afro-cuban slave to convey emotion & literally communicate through body language. It is primal, Earthy and sweaty.

This trip marked monumental experiences. Not only was it my first official salsa congress, but it was also an opportunity to apply all that I have learned about mambo and BRING it to an event filled with some of the best dancers in the region and possibly the country. I was very proud of myself for being able to keep up with the level of dancing. I was dancing SO hard in fact that I nearly broke my toe, had multiple calluses, mysterious bruises and the entire surface area of my body pretty much hurt. Dancing to live music, with a total stranger, letting yourself go, becoming the dance, allowing the movement to come from a place that is pre-cognitive...it nourishes a place inside me that can not be satiated with food.

This experience allowed me to spend time with some beautiful strangers. Making new friends in Toronto, DC, LA and NY. There is something about sharing the commonality of love for something, that can turn a complete stranger into an instant friend. Perhaps my newly made amigos is a foreshadowing for international friends to come.

This trip was a welcome respite from the endless preparation for Peace Corps. I was able to put all planning, listing and working aside. I was able to fully immerse myself into dancing before I have to take a voluntary salsa-celibacy. I was coming down from the high of dancing for so many hours & working through complete exhaustion, that Wednesday I wept on and off all day at the thought of having to box up my dancing shoes and leave them behind. Salsa has changed my life in more ways than can be written. It became a form of therapy after my divorce. A way to give and receive affection in a healthy, functional way. It became a positive social network and now some of these people are my best friends. I am going to miss my favorite partner Paul. Even now when we dance sometimes I get weepy at the thought of having to leave this behind. I have my ipod loaded with salsa songs & my computer has videos to watch so that I can keep up my moves. I am already looking forward to my next salsa get-away.

My next adventure.....participating in a NASA fitness study.

Until then......Baila, baila, baila, baila!!!

PS. Look closely at the picture, that is not a sweat speckled lens-those are orbs of peoples awesome vibes!!

I expected to feel emotional about leaving all I love & cherish behind, but it has proven to be even more stormy than I expected. In thinking about what the prospects hold in Fiji & what foreign experiences I will be enduring, I become excited at the "Indiana Jones" like adventure. Then I begin to experience a moment like the one I had today when I looked at my beautiful yoga class & felt so loved, at home and proud. As I was driving home from the class, I felt like I was seeing the trees around me bud for the first time, even though I have lived on that street nearly my entire life.

I've had the sensation that I only have "X" amount of days to live since I accepted the Peace Corps invitation. It has been quite liberating actually. Living through the perspective that my life with never be the same again after my return & that I will no longer relate to all that I do now in the exact same way, has made me feel this acute sense of awareness to how I feel & perceive things RIGHT now.

It has created the perfect prescription for presence.

I can take in the energy of laughing with my little sister much more fully. I can love more deeply when I see all of my student's smiles. And I can appreciate all of the details of a regular day with so much more gratitude, when they would've normally been multi-tasked through. I feel like living from the understanding that life as we know it will NOT last forever gives me the freedom to tell people exactly how much I care about them, even if it makes them uncomfortable.

I have so much busy-ness happening in the next 3 weeks. I am headed to E. Rutherford, NJ this weekend because I won a full pass to the NJ Salsa Congress and will be headed into NYC and going to the Jivamukti Yoga School. I have never taken a Jivamukti class in NY & I am so psyched! I am using this trip as a last yoga, salsa and food huraahh!

More friends to dine with, parties to attend and essentials to buy. More emotions to encounter.

xoxox

Sara

The count UP has begun!! I leave for Fiji May 17th. I have a generous mixed bag of emotions, excitement, fear, missing people I haven't left yet.

I get the same questions again & again so I thought I would address them:

1. Why the hell are you doing this?

Because I have committed myself to living an extraordinary life & i think joining the Peace Corps counts. I feel like I have reached my maximum wing capacity in my hometown of Cleveland, OH & desire to experience living in a whole new way.

2. What will you be doing for 2+ years?

(The work part) My "title" is community health volunteer, so my understanding is doing nutrition education, positive lifestyle habits, confidence building activities etc. I am hoping this includes teaching yoga...I'm sure I will find a way. And maybe I can teach them the basics of Mambo...hmmm, not sure if that will go over so well. I can just hear the village mayor "You sent us this woman that just dances around whipping her head, shaking her hips & doing body rolls all day!!??". HA!

(The fun part) Learning how to cook traditional Fijian foods, learn their native dance, swim, snorkel, learn how to surf, hike, yoga & reeellaxxxx.....the Fijian way--which I've learned they have mastered like a fine art.

3. Will you have a phone &/or computer?

Most likely I will have a phone, but not right away. Training is 7 weeks or so & I may not have one then. I will have my computer but internet access is questionable. Not sure when or how often. Many current volunteers have blogs so I imagine access will be fairly regular.

4. Will you have running water & electricity??

Probably?? Really I have no idea...& somehow oddly I am okay with that.

Probably because its more of a surreal concept then a reality. Hopefully, yes & yes. While water quality will be questionable & electricity intermittent some volunteers have both all of the time.

5. What can you bring?

2 bags, totaling 80#, no one bag can weigh more than 50# How am I gonna pack all of my supplements & skincare?? Ha! Just cause I am on a tropical island does not mean I will skimp I what I consider essential. High maintenance, perhaps, there are other things I can do without though like socks & underwear :) (all I will be wearing is flip-flops & underwear is overrated)

I am a "lister"..always have been..so

Things I Will Miss

My Mom's awesome hugs

Sunday dinners at my dad's & "desserting" for hours after with my sisters

Interpretive W African dancing with my sisters to hip-hop music

The W Side Market

Yoga at a real yoga studio

the local college radio station

Talking to Colleen everyday

Salsa dancing...oh that one reallly stings

Refrigeration

WIFI

My bicycle

The Metroparks

Washing machines & dishwashers..oh yes, all by hand friends, all by hand.

Oh crap this list is getting too long....& I 'm sure once i'm in Fiji it will get much longer--but for now, not to exclude...of course, all of my unbelievably loving friends, students and family.

Things I Won't Miss

SNNNOOOWWWWWWW!

Lack of sun for days on end

Worrying about the price of gas...no driving the ENTIRE time I'm gone.

Wal-Marts

College loan payments

Hm, this list is much shorter. Probably because I have a f*^#ing awesome life & really do appreciate what I've got.

I am going to do my best to keep all abreast of any updates & happenings.

Peace!!

Sara