Lonely winter, Japan

Culture and Ecology of the Fijian Islands

by Miranda Hope Shea

We touched down in Fiji amongst a riot of colors— rich greens and yellows splashed with pink and red blossoms. The air was heavy with rain, a light mist catching our hair and clothes as we stepped off the plane and walked down the tarmac to congregate by the luggage carousel. The people before me hugged and laughed, hoisting massive backpacks over their shoulders with eager determination. I smiled nervously. Being a transfer student is a strange mixture of nervousness and excitement. A new country with new courses and new faces: a challenge I was ready to take on. I lugged my own bag, packed with essential hiking and trekking gear, and clothes suited to the hot climates we would be travelling to, over to the group to be greeted with hearty welcomes and enthusiastic chatter about the adventures to come.

A band of excited students, we piled into vans that whisked us off to our apartments in Suva, the countries’ capital. Over the next week we would get to know each other, our professor, and our student coordinator while beginning our introduction to courses like Political Economy and Ecology, International Development, and the overreaching course of Global Studies III. We would take our first Innovative Encounters with Nature and Knowledge trip to Sigatoka; a town on the southern coast of the main island of Viti Levu, where we explored the ancient burial grounds of the Lupita people, jumped off massive sand dunes, and learned about the intersection of human and nature while planting trees for forest regrowth. In Suva we visited the Fiji Museum and began asking ourselves questions about colonization, and the process of its deconstruction. This would remain a theme throughout the semester, as we delved deeper into the subject, working on creating an understanding of the roles we played as tourists, as Global Studies Students, and as Westerners. We also were able to collaborate with Masters students studying at the University of the South Pacific, discussing climate change and it’s drastic effects on the nations of the region. This experience raised our sense of urgency, making us ask ourselves how we can each make an effort to combat global warming.

Namosi: an eco-resort tucked away in the lush highlands of the island. The way we got there? On the back of a truck, packed in like sardines, jolting over the gravelly and narrow mountain roads. “Bet you never thought this would be your classroom, huh?” my professor asked, computer perched precariously on his lap, typing away furiously mid-bus ride. I shook my head, laughing as he clung to the keyboard for dear life. We arrived in Namosi, a bit hot and dusty, only to ford a river with bags over our heads, to arrive at our destination. All in one piece, the weekend commenced with a bonfire, a kava ceremony, and a brilliant sky crowded with stars. Respecting local tradition was important for our group. One of our key learning goals was to immerse ourselves in a culture, learning from, rather than about. This meant adhering to local custom such as the wearing of sulus: a length of cloth wrapped about the waist (worn by both men and women) as we passed through villages on our way to a remote waterfall. We trekked through the mud, up steep inclines, and through low hanging palm fronds to emerge at the top of an icy cascade—a welcome relief at the end of the sweltering jungle. This would be one of many waterfalls we would see, a running joke amongst us students: “we might as well call this waterfall school!” But ultimately, it would be experiences like this that would cultivate a deep appreciation for the ecology of the South Pacific, and the struggles it faces.

We would learn further about this during our homestay within the community of Waitabu, on the Island of Tavuni where we would scale more waterfalls, hike in the warm rain along the beach, and make lasting connections with the locals. Our trip to the third largest Fijian island was a twenty-hour ferry ride, after which we gratefully clambered off the boat onto the aptly named “Garden Island”. We arrived at the community near dusk, the sky turning apricot and gold over the ocean before us. The people there welcomed us with open arms, every single one of us feeling at home immediately. The village is one that has had a massive impact on the way Marine Protected Areas are incorporated, using traditional concepts to deem “qoliqoli” (fishing areas) to be “tabu” (no-take zones). For ten years now the village has been an example of how the nexus of local laws and traditions and modern science can be incorporated to create environmentally sustainable areas. We were able to snorkel and dive here, and in the breathtaking Rainbow Reef where the explosion of life and color was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The aqua water, the salt on our skin, resting in the shade of coconut trees eating soursop and pineapple surrounded by flowers—it was an awe-inspiring experience. Yet the beauty of the people and their land is threatened by the encroaching threat of rising sea levels and natural disasters. What we were able to experience might not last for generations to come if greater action isn’t taken, on an international scale. Fiji opened our minds to the realities of these issues, while also finding a place in our hearts for years to come.

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