Visitors of all shapes and sizes

Generally I like animals, but their are exceptions. Cockroaches are one such exception. From Friday night until Monday afternoon it rained. I mean it really rained. A torrential downpour to the extent that St. Thomas High School, where we were teaching Adolescent Reproductive Health yesterday had to close its doors and lunchtime and send all the students home, due to flooding in the surrounding areas. The problem with rain like this is that we are not the only ones who don’t like it; and the cockroaches seem to think that it’s okay to camp out in our bathroom when the weather is bad. I’m not talking about your average little European cockroaches either. These ones are BIG; almost frog sized, so that you can see every detail on their disgusting bodies. In the beginning, Kate and I were horrified, but now its become a bit of a sport. When we first arrived in Lautoka we used a whole can of ‘Hit Spray’ in one day, but with our new can of Mortein we are a bit more sparing. We know now where their favourite hiding spots are, so we can spray directly at them (though I almost had one land on me the other day, when it ran out of a hole at head height), and we also have cockroach chalk, which we use to draw around our beds and in the doorways. This disorientates them, but rarely actually kills them, so its good that we are no longer afraid to give them a good hard whack with the nearest hard object whenever the wave their gross little antennae at us.

The torrential rain was one of the reasons why I kept waking up in the middle of Friday night – the other reason was the dogs in the compound behind ours. They are constantly barking, either at each other, or just for the sake of it. They also like to fight, and, once, on of them got stuck under the fence right outside my room, and screamed so loudly that I thought someone was being murdered. But on Friday night this particularly annoyed me, because I knew I had to get up at 5am. I had begged to be allowed to go and observe the Blood Drive in Sigatoka, and I didn’t want to be tired. The Red Cross in Fiji do not actually take blood donations, but they support the Ministry of Health in the recruitment of donors, and this is why I was allowed to go along for the ride! Generally, I love dogs, but lying there in my bed, watching the time pass by from 3.30 to 4am, knowing that I had so little sleeping time left, I fantasied about shot-guns being legalized, and being able to fire a few quick shots over the fence, and then get a great night’s sleep!

Luckily I got the chance to sleep in the car on the way to Sigatoka, and I wasn’t the only one – the lab technician was also fast asleep! Once we arrived, the lab technician and nurse disappeared into the blood wagon, and Jae and I started setting up the table outside ANZ Bank. Next to us was another table, with biscuits and fizzy drinks, under a big banner advertising for blood donors to come forward. I was given the task of writing the date on all the blood bags, sticking a sticker on them, and handing them to Jae, who interviewed each prospective donor about their health, before showing them to the blood wagon and letting the nurse and lab technician take over. In the morning we were really busy, with lots of regulars coming to donate, but by lunchtime this had slowed to a trickle. Perhaps this was lucky, because it meant that everyone got a decent lunch-break, and we received a free meal at a local cafe. I had roti with potato curry, spinach curry and masala tea, which was really nice. Afterwards, it was still very quiet, so I was told that I could go for a little wander around Sigatoka. I browsed a few shops and bought myself a chocolate bar, but decided that on balance, I preferred Lautoka. At about 4pm we packed up and drove home, and, again, I slept most of the way!

Anyway, finally, yesterday afternoon, the rain cleared up, and Aunty let the chickens out to run around the compound. Kate and I were in our room when we heard a commotion outside – a mixture of barking, screaming and squawking. I ran outside to see what was happening, and it turned out that Taffy, the dog, had escaped and was running after the chickens at full pelt. Then I heard a horrible scream from the bedroom. A chicken had come running in to take refuge, and Kate was terrified! It was under my bed, so I chased it out, but then it ran into Kate’s half of the room and refused to move. I tried to shoo it out, even tapped it with a broom, but it absolutely refused to budge! In the end I got a large envelope and pushed it the whole way out of the room, its little feet digging in the whole way! Luckily, by this time Taffy had been caught, and apart from a few missing feathers, the chickens were fine.

The most distinguished visitor came today. A police officer, in full uniform, came in with a letter for me and Kate, inviting us to come for a meeting tomorrow about ‘Crime Free Day’, which will be held on the 15th of March (my birthday, coincidentally)! We had met a police officer last week at a meeting for the National Youth Day Committee (which we were observing, but now seem to be a part of), and he had mentioned the Crime Free Day and that he’d like Red Cross to be involved, but to be actually invited to the meeting makes us feel pretty grown-up!

Extras from the Ugly Camp

Although the Beachhouse resort on Korolevu beach is amazing: a white sandy beach with hammocks, swings and palm trees; swimming pool, bar and volleyball court; me and Kate did not feel very happy when we arrived. It was just before supper time, and judging by all the people milling around with freshly washed hair, flawless make-up, and crisp ‘backpacker style’ tops and miniskirts, we must have just wandered into a film set. Everyone except Kate and me was blond and tanned. We felt like extras drafted in from the ugly camp. We were not clean and crisp, having just got off a cockroach-infested bus, our hair blown all over the place, still wearing our work clothes and probably smelling slightly of sweat. Still, a big plate of fish and chips cheered us up, and then the others – David, Luke, Michael, Jack and Chris arrived – arrived with their beer. The occasion was Luke’s 18th.

It was really nice to see some of the other gappers again and exchange stories. We sat on the beach all evening chatting and telling each other about out placements. Kate and I had plenty to tell, having just come straight from teaching the students of Lautoka Central College about adolescent reproductive health. We were on a bit of a high, to be honest. The session had gone really well, and the students had listened and participated. I had been incredibly nervous beforehand – I even screamed when the bell went for class! But Form 3 really put me at ease, and, sitting in the cockroach-infested bus on the way to Beachhouse, I had felt like I wanted to thank everyone of them for making the first time so easy! I hit the hay at around 1.30, and it felt so nice to sleep in a fan-cooled room! For the first time in my life, it felt like a luxury to wake up in the middle of the night due to being too cold, and have to pull an extra blanket over me.

We spent the next day just lounging on the beach and in the sea, and playing on the swings and kayaks.  The other gappers all arrived (all except for Rob, that is), so we went through the catch-up and storytelling routine again! In the evening, when the weather was cooler, Helen and I paid to go on a beach ride, and, since we could both already ride, we were given a free reign (haha, see what I did there?) to race the horses up and down the beach. It was really good fun, and we both thought that it was money well spent. My only tip is this- riding in shorts isn’t very clever; I now have apple-sized bruises on the insides of calves from where the saddle pinched my legs. Still, it was worth it!

5 sightings in a week!

Lautoka is not small – it is, in fact, a city. And other than at the Red Cross (or at home, obviously), we do not tend to bump into the same people again and again just by coincidence. That it, apart from one young man who pops up all over the place! He is, I understand, the pastor’s younger son, and is (I guess) about 10 year old. We first met him at the cell meeting last week; the church members are divided into different cells which meet on Thursdays to pray, sing, talk and eat. He said hello very politely, shook our hands, and told us that he had seen us when we came to his school to talk to the head teacher, which we thought was pretty funny!

The next time that we saw him was, unsurprisingly, at church. On Sunday, Kate and I went to the New Life Gospel Church, of which Sharene is a leader. The atmosphere was extremely warm and welcoming; we were told many times over that it was a blessing to have us there, and we were even asked to come up to the microphone and introduce ourselves. The service itself was also very passionate; there were three heartfelt testimonies, which made just about all of the congregation cry; strong preaching about the dangers of hatred; lots of songs, instrumentals courtesy of the Worship Team; and prayer individually and in small groups.

At least a couple of times subsequently, we have seen the boy in town, but perhaps the most puzzling sighting was today, when we were on our way down the drive from one of the cities major high schools. Four of us (me, Kate, youth coordinator Prakash and another volunteer) were visiting high schools in the area this afternoon, with the aim of trying to convince them to let us come and talk to their students about personal development, STIs and HIV, and teenage pregnancy, which are huge problems here. Anyway, as we were leaving, the same familiar face came into view again, and as always he said hello very politely. It is a bizarre coincidence that we keep running into this boy again and again- about 5 times this week! And we will see him again this evening at the cell meeting.

Byebye mushroom pizza… hello coconut roll!

There weren’t that many people at the Red Cross this week, as they were all at a workshop (which, when Kate and I visited for lunch on Friday, seemed to involve watching some interesting movies…. but I’m sure it wasn’t like that all week!!), so Kate and I had plenty of time to settle in and get to know Lautoka and also David (the big boss) and Ake (the administrator) and a few of the volunteers (the ones who weren’t at the workshop). Our wanderings around the local area have led to me discovering my new favourite food: the coconut roll. It is actually fantastic- a warm pastry roll which is gooey in the centre and tastes of honey and coconut milk. Heaven in a bun, and the best thing is that it costs only 40 cents…. that 20 euro cents!

I have also discovered that my host, Sharene, gives fantastic foot massages, which has been really good with all the walking that we’ve done this week. We’ve been going from primary school to primary school, asking the head-teachers whether they will be running a Junior Red Cross Club this year, and whether the teacher running this club will be able to come to a meeting with us in two weeks time, to talk about the clubs and such. Kate and I have taken it upon ourselves to revive these clubs, and have been working on some materials to hand out to the teachers, which will help them with running sessions. The walking around, asking for directions, has also proved a great way to get to know Lautoka, and I now feel that I know my way round the city center quite well.

The bad weather that we have been having here since the cyclone last week seems to have cleared in time for the weekend, because today the sun is out and it is really hot (though I have been told that this is nothing – apparently it will get much hotter). Today has been a very relaxed day so far – spent the morning lolling around in bed, and then came to town for a bit of shopping (bought some lovely orange board shorts for only 7 dollars, which is 3.5 euro dollars – dad would be proud!). We are going to see Rambo now, at the cinema. I just want to make sure I have enough time to buy a coconut roll beforehand!

Up the mountain, down the drain

“Welcome to Red Cross Airways. Please fasten your seatbelt and prepare for take-off”. It wasn’t a joke either. Despite the fallen trees and branches, the darkness, and the winds and rains of cyclone Gene, the 4×4 zoomed off at such a speed that when we hit a puddle and the spray covered almost the entire windscreen, I actually screamed “WOAH” (much to the amusement of the other volunteers). Me and my GAP buddy, Kate, were supposed to be in Suva, at the FRCS Headquarters for only one day of briefing, before taking the bus to Lautoka for our placement, but in the morning the gusts of wind started, and the Disaster Team started talking about a depression, and by the time we came back from our lunch break, cyclone Gene was all over the radio stations. The briefing continued, and at the end, we were told that the Red Cross teams would be on standby at the Headquarters all night; if we wanted to, we could go and hang out with them.

By 18.30 there was a knock on our hotel door, and a fijian guy in a Red Cross raincoat asked if we wanted to come a drink a few bowls of grog with the standby team. Where else in the world does an emergency standby team sit and drink!? In our three nights of keeping the standby team company, something became apparent; they are not only a necessity in case of emergency but also a fun social occasion, where grog (kava) is drunk, food made, cards played… Despite the excitement in the air that first night, there was not actually much for the team to do; they couldn’t be driven home, due to the high winds (the only vehicles on the streets were police and military), and the only place in the vicinity in need of any help was their own headquarters. The car park had become flooded to the extent that I dubbed it “The Red Cross Swimming Pool”. While attempting to unblock the drains, the guys got so wet that one of them dived into the car park and swam a few strokes!

Once it became apparent that the cyclone was not actually going to hit Suva, and all that could be done about the flooded car park had been done, Kate and I were asked if we wanted to see the firestation. We were driven there in a Red Cross vehicle, and they encouraged me to take some photos, which I was told to be sure to e-mail. Once back in the car, I asked why we had gone there. The driver laughed. I didn’t get it and asked again. The driver told me: to buy grog. Certainly, Kate and I have become much for familiar with grog. Its funny to contrast our ‘kava ceremony’ at the uprising resort (nice wooden bowl, fijians neatly dressed in ‘bula shirts’, weak kava), with the grog drinking at the Red Cross (plastic washing-up basin, requests for extra large portions, dubbed ‘lagoons’) which I think is probably more real, but the basics remain the same; clap once before you take the bowl, say bula, take it up the mountain, down the drain, give the bowl back saying ‘maca’, and clap three times! I need to practice my hollow clapping some more though….