My Girls

As mentioned before, I had a great two weeks, due mostly to my group--most commonly referred to as "my girls."

First Impressions
Every Thursday, to get ready for the new arrivals I put on my child's size shirt that reveals my sexy, hairy belly, my hat, and a brightly colored sulu. I am also flamboyantly outgoing. This sometimes (by sometimes I mean often) freaks out the new kids. When my girls first arrived and met with me for the first time, they were slightly freaked out. Most of them did not talk. The first impressions for all of us did not match up with how the following two weeks would turn out. These girls love to talk, to sing, to be outgoing. And I'm still weird--I just don't wear that shirt all the time.

Independence and Trust
Our first Tuesday afternoon found the eleven of us at Mulomulo Muslim School. We were prepared to teach two classes in two teaching groups. Upon arrival we discovered two classes actually meant four separate classes with a combined total of nearly fifty kids. My girls handled it like pros. Without any extra planning time, they split into smaller teaching teams and set out. I walked from classroom to classroom for the first few minutes before being captured by the headmaster for some discussion. During this walking, I found one teaching team standing in the classroom, at a loss for what to do. Quickly, I went to another classroom and asked one of my girls to go with the other two. This girl, the youngest of the group (younger than these two by two years) jumped in like a seasoned teacher. The rest of the teaching went smoothly, even when I stopped checking in on them. To of my girls asked the kids to draw what they wanted to be when they grew up. My favorite answer: "When I grow up I want to be a knight."

I went the majority of the two weeks without doing any planning on my own. I told my girls what the teachers were expecting and let them plan largely without my interference. I was never let down. One lesson plan expected to last over an hour took fifteen minutes. Instead of standing around with a blank look on their faces, these girls just kept going with other activities once again with minimal interference on my part.

At least twice during the two weeks I needed the help of my group to shop. The situation that most displays my trust in this group happened the last day. My normal system of food buying was disrupted and instead of having over two hundred dollars worth of food waiting for me at the market there was none. I had 45 minutes to buy enough fruit and veggies for 85 people for one day and 60 for the next. I made a quick list, split my girls into groups and gave each items to buy and 50 dollars to do so with. For the most part, if I had done this with any group I've had in the past I would be out 50 dollars. My girls bought everything on the lists and brought me change. One even bargained for a lower price on pineapple.

Priorities
Each week, we were scheduled to either go to the hot mud pools or an amazing place called the garden of the sleeping giant. Instead of going to either of these, my girls requested that during the second week we go to the orphanage instead. I made a few calls and made it happen. We spent an hour playing with little kids instead of merely entertaining ourselves.

They were there for fun, but each girl had service in mind. They were my girls and I loved them, but they didn't get anything for free. I have the belief that the kids that come here need to work to earn their service hours and these girls were no different. Doing a beach clean up with another group, we were the first to arrive and the last to leave. When we went to the schools, they all taught and all actively participated. During computer training, when we did not have enough students for each girl to be busy the whole time, I rotated the girls through so each worked. They rarely complained and by working hard and having great attitudes they earned trust and privileges. I asked for their opinions and would change how we did things or where we went and for how long. We had a lot of fun.

Bonding
The girls got a lot closer after the first week and most of them moved into the same room together. Twice we planned bonding times up on a nearby hill. The first was at sunset. Two of the girls sang a song for us and we all sang lean on me. The song they sang Was I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz. This became the theme song to our group. This duet version of the song is by far my favorite. While there for sunset, we made what some people call camp bracelets. The way to make one of these is to cut strips of bandanna, write all of the names of everyone in the group on each strip, then twist the strips into bracelets.

The second organized bonding time was on our last night. We went up after dark to look at the stars, share our favorite memories of Fiji, and eat what was intended to be chocolate cake. Due to a lousy oven it more resembled pudding, yet was still delicious. It was here that my girls told me what I meant to them and how I helped them over the past two weeks. This meant a lot to me. They also gave me a present that could not have been better- a jar of nutella. Nutella is worth, among staff, its weight in gold. Not only did they give me a jar of nutella, but they wrote a brief message on top- "Happy early B-Day, Love, Your Girls." Once again, nearly brought to tears. We also had a nice little "I'm Yours" sing along.

Throughout the two weeks, there were plenty of other unplanned bonding sessions, such as henna nights, that were also wonderful.

Adios
Thursday night, my girls flew back home. It was not a moment I was looking forward to at all. There were hugs all around without any tears shed. It seemed close with some girls, but it was a quick goodbye without any lingering around. I was bummed when they left and miss them, but things go on and I can't linger on it. I have to give my all to all of my groups and look forward to meeting all new people.

Two Weeks in Brief

It has been a while since the last posted chapter in Craig's Fiji Adventure. Time to blog has been limited. Today is a good example of this limited time, with the exception being I made it to the internet cafe. A more detailed chronicle will follow, because the last two weeks are well worth it. A teaser for the next installment:

Over the past two weeks I have had accumulated some of my best memories in Fiji, these memories made possible largely by a wonderful group of ten teens. These girls, aged 15-18, are the best group I can remember having, in all of my experiences. They have also told that I am the best leader they've had, more like a big brother figure than anything else. This further enforces my belief that actually being a big brother is the most useful experience I have.

I have also realized that I have counselor in me no matter where I go. A student, who shared the same name, age, birth month and hair color as my youngest sister, told me as she left that I helped her out. I knew she had a story, but never asked. Sometimes you need the whole story and sometimes you don't. Regardless, having an outlet and a source for advice is always helpful. Ten years more life experience, both good and bad, and knowing the right things to say, are all that was needed. Her thanks nearly brought tears to my eyes--moments such as that are worth more to me than much else.

Lately I have taken some things into my own hands, such as a bit of my schedule and a healthy snack menu. I want to make the experiences my students have as best as possible, so will try to arrange things on my own--such as visiting an orphanage instead of the hot mud pools. I generally pass this through my supervisors, mostly just so they know where I am. I have also decided that we are not serving food that is healthy enough, so I am adding daily snacks of free apples and bananas to our snack menu of crap (oreos, chips, crackers, etc.). I'm sure it would be fine with my supervisors, but I never asked. They're too stressed to talk to. I like to get things my way and also the way that will best benefit others. The future will tell me if this is going to blow up in my face.

There will be more to follow in the hopefully near future regarding my group of girls.

I am happy, healthy, and content still in Fiji.

Moce- Pronounced Mothey (bye).

PANCAKES!!!!!!!!!

Today I have a day off. That is a main explanation for so many posts so close together. It's a real chill day off. I had a long, hot shower last night. In a real building. Without bugs. The hot shower I mentioned in an earlier post was great, but it did leave me with a bug bite on my right butt cheek. No bugs=a better shower. And I had REAL PANCAKES this morning. With MAPLE SYRUP. I made them. They were delicious. It was the first time in a month and a half since I had last tasted pancakes. No orange juice, though.

I have not had orange juice in a month and a half. It makes no sense because there are people everywhere selling oranges, but this country does not have orange juice. They have sugary orange-flavored juice. When I get home I will begin an orange juice binge. And I will have a chicken caesar salad. And a cheesesteak. And a good, dark beer. And some sharp, non processed, cheddar cheese. And some candy. Not all at the same time, though. That would ruin the moment.

Most Disappointed

On Thursday I had one of my most disappointing moments since arriving in Fiji. The day had been going well-I spent the morning with the new kids and the afternoon wandering the town with friends. I even got ice cream. The departing kids were searching Nadi for souvenirs and I was the driver. We were to meet at the Mobile at 3:30, so I was making my way back to the van. I saw a small group of students in front of the ATM. Upon approaching them, I discovered that two were holding beers. One of the boys I did not know-he tried to get away, but I saw him so it was a useless try. The other boy knew he was caught and did not attempt to sneak off. He was a boy from my group. I'll call him Sam.

Sam stood there, holding his beer. He gave it up without argue and I spoke to him.

"Are you serious?" I said, "I spent last night defending you [apparently someone called his parents and told them he was behaving poorly. I knew nothing of that] and the last twenty-four hours telling you how great you've been doing. Now you do this."

Rustic Pathways rules explicitly says that drinking alcohol is forbidden and the offenders will be sent home on the first flight out. It was their last day anyway, so they spent the remainder of it in the Nadi house with the country manager. 

Sam is an arrogant kid. He has the air about him that he holds himself on a higher level than others. When I did the nightly rounds he was the last to get up when I said time for bed. He worked when he felt like it. However, when he worked, he did a great job. The first trip to the construction site had him working nearly non-stop. He was very active, patient, and all around great teaching the kids at Mulomulo Primary. I told him all this. 

Anyone who knows my counseling and teaching side knows that I am an idealist. Sam told me, after teaching a more difficult class, that he realized how much trouble he had been causing his own teachers by acting that way. He was seeing teaching from a different point of view and it seemed like it could have been the planting of a seed in him that might eventually lead to better things. Who knows, that may be true. Maybe not. It's up to him. 

Tattoos and Stolen Pizza

I got a new tattoo. Last Saturday night, I came across a design, a sort of tribal set of swirls and dots, that looked awesome, so I got it on my right forearm. It didn't take too long to get done, and it was in a pretty clean environment so I should be okay. Also recently, I had a hot shower at the base, the first so far. I would put that it one of the best moments I've had here. It was wonderful.

Since the last installment, things have been interesting. To begin with, I have come to the realization that I am from the northeast US and that will not change. Let me explain the significance of this. Temperatures here rarely dip below 85 degrees during the day, and the number of 85 degree days I have experienced since last August I can probably count on my fingers and toes. It's also winter here. I think I just may be a cool weather person. The concept of not having a northeast autumn, experiencing all the colors, smells, and added layers of it, is not one I would like to get used to. My energey level also is not as high as usual.

On Tuesday I got a tour of a jail cell. Well, I saw it from outside the cell itself, but in the hallway. This impromptu, odd tour took place immediately after I finished a computer training session at the police station. The officer, or constable, asked me, "Mister Craig" and my kids if we wanted a tour of the police station. Sure, why not, right? She led us around to the back of the station, took us inside in two small groups to see the jail cell in the basement. There was a man in there, standing at the bars. She spoke of him as though he could not understand what she was saying, telling us why he was behind the bars and how long he was going to be there for. I felt like I was in a zoo. Upon leaving, I clearly recall saying "I can't believe that just happened."

After the zoo tour, we munched on some stolen pizza. This is another interesting story. We walked into Mama's Pizza at noon. I made my way to the woman at the register to order. However, she informed me that my male, australian leader had already placed an order for me for noon. It seemed out of the ordinary for my male, australian supervisor (who I was to meet there) to do this, but I thought 'That was nice of him.' After digging into the three pizzas, a group of australians came in. We ate their pizza. And, as it turns out, their australian leader used to work for my company but left and created his own travel company that goes to all the same locations. I didn't feel too bad. 

There are two little girls, aged three and four, who currently live at our base house with their mother. The three year old cries a lot. She also gets into things and occasionally does stuff that I view as inappropriate. For example, a coworker told me this story when it occurred a few days ago: "I was reading in the hammock when I noticed Kimberly on the pool deck, squatting. She had dropped trou' and shit on the deck." True story. This does not seem to be a singular occurrence among Fijian children, either. Two weeks ago I was in a village working on a construction project, a handful of local kids playing close by. I turned around to look at them just in time to see a little boy, standing at the edge of the group, whip it out and drain himself in the wide open. Ah, kids. They do the darndest things.

I take a group to teach at Mulomulo Primary School nearly every Wednesday. Last Wednesday I did the same, but the kids were a little more excited by our presence than usual. Teaching was great-my kids did awesome-and afterwards, at lunch, they were rockstars. A few of my teens wandered outside of the teacher's room and were swarmed by kids. They were pulled, crowded around, and cheered at. One of my girls took video of it before she was swarmed herself. It strongly resembles video of a riot.

It has been a week since the tattoo was put on my forearm and the henna has faded. It was nice while it lasted.