Fiji, part 3

At the village, we met the chief. He's the guy wearing the blue-striped shirt. We drank quite a few cups of kava, which made my tongue and lips numb. Most of the tourists in the foreground are young travelers from England. They go island-hopping and treat Fiji like one big party, which it is, of course.


Alex, the gal to my left, snapped a photo of me drinking kava. Here I'm on my first cup--or coconut shell, as the case may be.


Nessie, the guy who led us to the village, not the Scottish sea serpent, introduced us to the oldest resident in the village, Roosie, who is 87.


Roosie, like many people who formerly served in the military, had a mermaid tattooed on his arm. He also had an interesting and bawdy poem scrawled onto his shutters.


I am such a softie when it comes to animals, and I miss my dog Joey. I spent awhile petting this dog, who reached up to sniff my camera as I was taking this shot. I meant to take another one, but he then started to clean himself, one leg lifted like a cat, and that's when I realized that not everywhere do people neuter their pets. If I snapped the shot, all you would see would be testicles, and it would take away from how cute you perceive him to be in the following photo.


While we drank our kava and clapped at the appropriate times and made the appropriate remarks, this older woman slipped away to catch some food. She returned clutching an octopus, the length of which was four feet or more. Spear in one hand, octopus in the other, she humbly posed. Meanwhile, I got a better understanding of the gender roles and differentials in Fiji: the women do all the washing, cooking, fishing, and spearing, while the men just sit around doping themselves with tea.