I’ve been sending little bits down the pipeline to Mongabay on my dig into what’s happening to Fiji’s coastal fisheries. The latest explains why you have to drink so much kava as a journalist there.
The expression “Fiji Time” is commonly used among locals and expatriates. From my island experiences, it feels as though I could insert the name of any small island before the word, “time.” But Fiji time seems to also refer to time spent on the obligatory rituals that allows one to enter a village, be accepted, and talk more intimately with the people who belong to it. Aside from navigating the proper customary channels for permission to visit a village plus transport time via ferry, bus, or 4×4 on a bumpy road, the speeches, kava offerings and its consumption are a large part of those time-taking rituals. Once all the right people are called forward, which is a group typically dominated by males, chat ensues around a large bowl full of kava. After several lip-numbing bilos, or cups, of the grog, stories start to tumble out. You hear tales of the past, Fijian adages, superstitious advice, a handful of place names that need to be spelled out, and then an open moment when you can plunge into questions such as, “How are poachers affecting your marine protected areas?”
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